#sam date everything

[nephilimbrute]

go, my SamSpecs

[diminand]

Dateables and Textposts, 22/30

All: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30

[bornofthestarz]

pt. 4!!

these are so fun to make i love em

[spencerwatchestoons]

to celebrate Critical Role’s 4th Campaign starting today, i drew every Date Everything character that is played by a Critical Role member that has played in at least one main campaign!!! this thing took three weeks and my custom Procreate brushes got corrupted and deleted in the process, but i think it was worth it!

(and of course tumblr bombs the quality T - T)

[lilliesofinspirationvalley]

Clearly I have a favorite in this batch with how big the Harper & Tina one is, lol

Installments: 1 2 3 4 5

(Potential spoilers for Sam’s canon design under the cut!)

[crispy-bonnie]

Maybe the reader's friend holds an intervention and takes them out to get their mind off whatever's bothering them while another friend goes to their house and decides to lock up the dateables who hate them and get replacements. The whole time they're talking to themselves (and also the objects) that reader is the kindest person they know and that they don't deserve something that hurts them because they're trying their best, and they should be allowed to make mistakes.

OH MY GOD ???

"listen, just because they made a mistake doesn't mean that they're trying to hurt you," sam would say as she's shoving one of the hated objects into a box. it's honestly a little horrifying, but with her lecturing and how she's basically dressing them down, nobody is able to stop her. "i can't stand idly by and watch you verbally abuse my best friend. it's either you be civil or be gone, but you guys aren't capable of the first one."

[luckybunny001]

Date Everything incorrect quotes! #8

Y/n: Why have 1 bitch when you can have 5?

Sam: 5?!

Y/n: Why have 5 bitches when you can have 102!!

Sam: 102!?!!

[fatal-dr0id]

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⟢ Sugar & Spice, Love & Hate

⋆˚࿔ Date Everything! Fanfiction

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Chapter Index 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Hello !! This is a fan-fiction I’m starting to try and get back into writing again, a passion of mine I’ve let slip away from me over the years. I’m trying to have some fun with it and have a rough idea of storyline and some inspirations under my belt, but this story is mostly just going to be building along the way. I really hope you guys enjoy my little “burst of inspiration” project.

This is a Date Everything! X Fem. Reader, so Y/N will be referred to with she/her pronouns. Also, not every Date Everything character will be in this fic for obvious reasons (there’s a hundred of them, babe, that’s too much), so here’s a quick list of characters that will be included…

⋆˚࿔ Skylar, Dorian, Curt, Rod, Hector, Timothy, Eddie, Volt, Koa, Gaia, Parker Bradley, Mateo, Beverly, Mitchell Linn, Cabrizzio, Luke Nuke’m, Miranda Dulce Tostadora, Daisuke, Friar Errol, Kopi, Cam, Amir, Jean Loo, Johnny Splash, Jerry, Penelope, Chance, Rainey, Scandalabra, Betty, Washford, Drysdale, Harper, Dirk, Dunk, Tony, Lady Memoria, xxXShadowl0rd420Xxx (Skips)

These are all characters that will have main focus on them for the most part. Others will obviously be mentioned and within the story, but these are the ones with more focused on them. If you don’t like the list…whoops !! Sorry hehe :P

Anyways, please enjoy chapter one !!

Au revoir 𝜗𝜚𓈒ㅤׂ

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You’ve never quite been this alone before. Well, you have. You’re a natural introvert, but you’ve always been around people even by force. Whether being in the same house as your parents, going to school to be surrounded by friends and classmates, and even your roommates in your apartment through your college years, but this was the big change. The big change of your life where you’d be moving into a real suburban house in a real suburban neighborhood, the only person at your hip being your best friend Sam who lived miles and miles away.

Now you had no force to keep you around people…and you had no want to change that. Perhaps it was the built up stress of the movement, paying off the house, or just the fact your entire world had just changed, but your drive to hold any social circle was entirely in the drain. Just you and your house. You had your furniture to keep you company is what you could laugh off.

You roll your suitcase up to the porch. Your moving van wouldn’t make it to the house until tomorrow, so you’d have whatever you packed to get you by until then. It isn't a lot, but enough to have pajamas and clothes for the night and next morning as well as hygienic products. You can hear it rattling around as you drag it up the steps before stopping in front of the door. A nice, tall, mahogany door with a square window placed on the upper-center space of its surface. It gives you a small peak into your new home, something you haven’t seen for the most part since you toured through it with the real-estate worker. You’re most excited to see it filled with your own furniture and decor, making the house closer to home for you.

As you push your hand through your pocket, feeling for your key, you swear you can feel almost…slight impatience radiating off the door. Impatience? No…more just like the time you’re taking patting yourself down is being watched over. Something instilled makes you hurry up, grasping your key and unlocking the door. You click it open and twist the doorknob, opening the door and being hit with the scent of a new, unfamiliar house. A smell that will soon become familiar and comforting, but you’ll have to be patient.

It feels cliche, but you almost instinctively take a deep breath before stepping into your house, pulling your suitcase up with you. You stand still for a moment before nudging the door closed with your foot. You peek around, taking everything in from where you stand at the door. You are somewhat…taken aback. There is still quite a bit of furniture left behind. Nothing too out of the ordinary, but a few things that catch your eye. Mainly, a blanket left behind on the couch. You leave your suitcase behind as you walk over and pick it up. It looks knit and personal, mostly like something you wouldn’t leave behind when selling your house. Then you notice the gaming console, something that really peaks your interest. You don’t just leave your gaming console behind when you sell your house to someone? The previous home owner’s piano, an air fryer…hell, there is even non-perishable food in the cabinets left behind. Small things that make you wonder why the house was left looking…occupied. Shouldn’t it be more empty?

You haven’t been able to contact the original house owner since you officially bought the house, a red flag to you, but you had decided to brush it off at the time. You’re wondering if maybe you should try reaching out again. Maybe just make sure they won’t show up randomly to finish collecting their stuff or worse…they sold the house and were going to keep living in your attic or something in secret.

You try your best not to assume the latter and decide to focus on fully checking out the house before getting settled in the best you can with just your suitcase at the moment.

You look around, room to room. It really is a peaceful house. It’s quiet…the sort of silence you haven’t experienced in…well…your whole life. You’re really, truly alone for once. No parents, friends, roommates…nothing. It irks you a bit. You already have a hard time pushing to make friends and connections on your own without ending up in social interactions against your will. It also doesn’t help that your new job is online. Seems like you’ll be left alone for a while starting your new life.

To ease your tensions, you fall onto your bed on your back, taking out your phone and calling up your friend Sam. At least you have her. Maybe not in person, but always willing to talk over calls or messages. Lucky for you, she answers and you’re immediately met with a small squeal.

”Big girl in her new world!” Sam’s voice is almost teasing, making you snort softly, “baby’s first house. How is it?”

You find yourself letting out a heavy sigh you didn’t even realize you had been holding all day. You stare at the ceiling as you respond, the words rolling right off your tongue.

”Weird,” is the best answer you can give her. Sam responds to your one-word-response with a hum.

“Yeah…it’s gonna be weird—but I’m so proud of you!” Sam squeals again, clearly eager to pump you up. You have to admit…it is working a little. It was making you smile, after all.

”Thanks…I can’t believe I actually have my own fucking house…all to myself!” You push yourself to sit up as you press the phone to your ear, “the dude before me left all their shit here. Like, borderline all of it. Even some food. There was, probably stale, cereal in the cabinets!”

”Ew! What the fuck?” Sam laughs, “that’s so weird. Who leaves food behind when they move out? Did they think you’d want it? Maybe it’s a housewarming gift.”

You roll your eyes as you push off the bed, shifting to crouch down and set your suitcase on its side on the floor, “I’m pretty sure housewarming gifts are usually left out on the table with a card and a little bow on top.”

You begin unzipping your suitcase, beginning to unpack what you had on your for the night as Sam hummed thoughtfully into the phone.

”I don’t know. That’s really weird.” Sam says, sounding just as weirded out as you are, “what else did they leave?”

”Their air fryer, their workout stuff, their sports supplies, some makeup and beauty products, their gaming console—“

”A gaming console!? Oh hell no, Y/N, they have to be squatting.” Sam snorts in disbelief, making you sigh heavily and cock your eyebrows up a bit in frustrated amusement.

”I know, right? That’s what I'm worried about,” you sigh as you press the phone between your ear and shoulder, re-folding your laundry that got messed up in your suitcase. You stack it up in an organized manner on the floor as you speak, “they seem like a weird person. They were super…odd when I first met them. They sure as hell seemed excited to get out of this house.”

”God, Y/N, what if your house is haunted?” Sam gasps in false-horror, receiving an eye roll on your end.

“Shut up,” you scoff out in a laugh, standing up with your laundry in your arms. You walk over to your closet, your phone still nestled between your shoulder and your ear, “I just got here, Sammie. I don’t need to already be horrified of my brand new fucking house.”

As you open your closet door, you pause. There are a few items in your closet. More shit left behind by the person before you. Lovely.

”God, there’s even more shit in the closet,” you snort into the phone, shifting your laundry to one hand and sliding it onto one of the shelves to be able to hold your phone again.

”Are you serious?” Sam laughed, “free shit. Like what?”

You shift your head around to look through the closet. It’s mostly empty, but it doesn’t change the fact there are still items left behind.

”A triangle…”

”A triangle? What?” Sam scoffs out a laugh.

”Uh…a stuffed animal…a box of holiday supplies…a diary—“

”Ooo! Read the diary! Is it open? Like, can you read it?” Sam asks quickly. She’s not the one who has to live in the house, so clearly she’s much less worried than you are.

”Nah, it’s locked,” you sigh, taking the diary out and stepping to the side a bit. You lean over to set the diary on your dresser. Might as well save it for later to see if you can get into it, “and…a pair of sunglasses.”

”Huh,” Sam simply breathes out as you pick up the sunglasses to examine them. They were white rimmed with a heart between the two lenses, the lenses themselves a pink and orange gradient.

”Yeah, they are really cute. I’d wear these out,” you say casually as you fold them and toss them onto your bed. You close the closet and move away, pressing the phone back up to your ear, “well…I guess I gotta check out this house anymore. Make sure I don’t find the old homeowner trying to get free shelter. Pray for me that I don't get jumped.”

Sam laughs at your words and you force out a small chuckle, too, but you were honestly pretty paranoid. It was weird. Why was so much stuff left behind? You assumed the house being somewhat occupied while touring was fine since the owner still owned it, but now they were gone and you fully paid it off. The house should be more empty.

”Sending prayers. Good luck, babe! Proud of you!” Sam says before hanging up. You toss your phone aside with a sigh, watching it land on the bed. It lands beside the sunglasses. Your eyes linger on them for a moment longer before you turn away and focus on looking more around the house.

────୨ৎ────

You spend the rest of the day looking around the house. It’s just…strange. There's an odd air to the house and a strange feeling of being watched that follows you everywhere. It doesn’t help with your fear that the homeowner before you was a shadier person than you first thought.

You spent time making sure everything was working. You noticed the HVAC wasn’t working at all, the toilet had been leaking for God knows how long, and the damn attic was locked. Were you provided a key? Nope.

You groan as you slump onto the couch, your head falling back and thumping against the back support. Nothing can just be easy for you. This move is already stressful enough. Not only that, but you’ll have to spend all of tomorrow moving all of your shit in.

If not the attic, you decide to check out the crawlspace in the office closet. You might as well. You didn’t get a good look at it when you were touring the house and if your homeowner’s squatting anywhere, it could be down there. So, you push yourself back to your feet and drag yourself over to the office. You feel a little uneasy once rolling up the carpet resting over the trapdoor. Crawlspaces were so creepy and eerie…and God, you did not want to find someone hiding out down there.

You very slowly open the trapdoor and peek inside. It’s dark, but small enough that the light from the closet fills the crawlspace well enough. So, you slip down the ladder and hit the dusty ground and cough a bit. The air is so musty…

Your eyes scan the ground. Not a lot going on inside. A mousetrap, a time capsule, and…a key! Just your luck. You lean down to pick it up, examining it. You blow the dust off and give it a few brushes.

”Huh…cool looking key,” you hum to yourself, your eyes falling back to the time capsule. Might as well take it back with you. It looks pretty old and you bet it has cool shit inside. So, with key and capsule in hand, you shift your way back up the ladder and back into the office closet. You close the trapdoor, making sure it’s shut firmly, and roll the carpet back over the closed opening.

You leave the capsule in the living room on the coffee table, deciding it’s best to leave that for later when you have more time to unpack it. Examining the key again, you begin to head back upstairs. You can only pray it goes to the upstairs attic. You assume the HVAC is up there and if you can figure out what’s wrong with it, maybe you can get some damn air circulating through that house.

You press your hand to the doorknob and insert the key inside, twisting it and hearing a click. You slowly open the door, peeking inside the attic. Dusty as hell in here, too…

You see boxes stacking tall in the corner of the room, making you roll your eyes. Is the past homeowner using this place as a damn storage unit? You see a plastic plant by the door, a safe (God forbid if you know that code), a large canvas leaning against the wall, and…perfect! The HVAC unit.

You’re no engineer by all means, but checking it out wouldn’t hurt. You look around the large unit, dusting it off and looking for any issues. Aside from needing new filters and some dusting, it doesn’t look…horrible. So what was wrong with it? Why wasn’t the AC or heating system working? You don’t understand what was happening…

There’s something weird about the house.

You groan softly, rubbing your head as you realize you’re probably going to have to call a professional. Winter was quickly approaching and that heater would be doing wonders during the snow season. You find yourself crouching down by the unit, looking inside and letting out a frustrated whine.

”Come on, buddy…I could really use a little bit of heat right now…” you’re mumbling mostly to yourself and half to the fates that were deciding to make this move-in ten times harder for you, “just a little…I know you can do it…”

You’re met with silence. Not that it wasn’t expected. So, you close up the unit and stand up on your feet again, patting the top.

”I’ll get someone to check you out,” you sigh out, turning away to leave the attic. You close the attic door behind you and walk to your room, leaving the attic key on the small table in the hallway.

You walk to your room and sit on the bed, letting out yet another sigh as you slump onto the mattress. Maybe it’s about time to just rest for the day and worry about fixing up the house tomorrow. Just as you think that, you hear the rumbling of vents, making your head perk up. The sound of gentle rushing air hits your ears and your eyes drift to the vent above your closets. You slowly stand up and walk over to the vent slowly, your eyes glued to it with almost…fascination. You slowly stand on your tippy-toes and reach up, stretching your arm up and placing your hand gently on the vent’s metal grilles. You feel warm air, soft and gentle, but still flowing through the vents and into your room. Your eyes widen a bit and you stare at the vent silently for a long while, allowing the warmth to hit your fingertips. So, manifesting really does work, hm? Maybe you asked kindly enough or just have such a way with words that even the inanimate objects of your house pity you. The thought almost makes you snort and you can’t stop the small smile spreading across your lips.

You bring your hand down and press a gentle kiss to your fingertips before reaching up and pressing it to the grilles.

“Thank you,” you say softly, mostly just humoring yourself. You lean back onto your heels, walking back over to your bed. Well, that’s one less problem to worry about.

You sit down on the mattress, picking up the sunglasses you had abandoned there earlier and twirling them around absentmindedly as you mumble to yourself.

”Just gotta get the circuit breaker checked out…and the leak behind the toilet…move all my shit in…maybe do some dusting and sweeping around the house…” you say as you stand up and move to the mirror above your dresser. You examine yourself, taking a moment to take in how…plain you are. At least in your eyes. You then hold up the sunglasses, a small splash of color on your exhausted features. You smile and lift them up, slipping them onto your face perched gently on the bridge of your nose.

”Wow. I could rock these at Coachella or some shit,” you snort, turning away from the mirror and immediately freezing where you stood.

────୨ৎ────

Standing in front of you was…a woman…wearing the same sunglasses and grinning at you as if she’s known you for years.

“Hey, girl—!”

”WHAT THE FUCK!?”

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word count: 2,873

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