The DE brainrot is real, HCs and occasional drabbles, i dont take unprompted requests but contribution and discussion is more than welcome. 18+. I will kill for that Computer.
Welcome to the sideblog for my Date Everything fixation! So i may one day live in peace without the brainworms.
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I make short drabbles, concepts and imagines. This space is also for me to curate specefic content i am interested in. Feel free to engage me on here trough discussion or questions.
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Blog info and rules of engament under:
This space is going to be very much a "create what you want to see in the word" place. I enjoy wierd metaphysical stuff and situasions that straddle between wholesome and vaugly horror-ish. Additionally while i dont indetify as Objectum (all respect to em tho), my interests in fiction aling in such a way i often stray into their territories (Im into the idea of sentient objects the same way some people are really into monsters). And Date Everything grabbed me by the throat and collided into them at mach speeds. The situasion the game creates demands to be experimented with. I will be almost exclusively exploring the relationship of the dateables as objects so dont expect any post-canon here. I am also a dramatic creature so it wont all be fluffy.
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About the Author:
21+, Aroace and Nonbianary (they/them). if you wanna call me anything then call me Curator. Long-time creative, but are a bit unused to engaging with fandom directly.
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What you WILL find here:
Nsft themes, wierd and unsual forms of intimacy/relationships, power dynamics, existensialism, metaphysics, more sfw stuff (they're neat in all the ways).
What you WONT find:
Underage, Ince*st, beastial**y, unhygenic kinks, sub reader, breeding kinks.
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I try to tag everything properly so people can filter, but please let me know if i miss anything.
Pre-dateviators scenario idea with touch-starved player x Johnny Splash, involving that statistic about lonely people taking longer showers to simulate human touch.
Man's just forced to watch while you sob your eyes out about wanting a hug. By the time you get the dateviators, bet that sweetheart of a shower would be absolutely vibrating to hold you while singing, – you have been unknowingly using him as a source of comfort after all – but way too polite to just pounce.
I keep thinking of like, quiet intimiacy with various dateables involving their object forms when the homeowner isen't wearing the glasses. Kind of showing that you dont just forget about them just cause you cant see their more humanoid form. Might write a part 2 with more dateables if anyone want.
Chance 🎲
- First to come to mind just cause hes so portable as a D20. You can pick him up and carry him with you practically at any time.
- i honestly think he would actually enjoy being fidgeted with, especially when you do it gently. Its a bit like someone messing with your hair or hands, but on a more encompassing scale.
- hold him enclosed in both hands and it becomes a full body hug. that dice would just melt at the gesture.
- It might take some time to get him to admit it but he finds it fun when you just do some rolls for the heck of it. Dice are made for it and to him its a bit like a rollercoaster, just dont be overly rough with your throws.
Mac 🖥
- Pat the computer pat the computer pat the computer–
- You allready spend a lot of time with them due to being your PC, which they were perfectly happy to begin with, but i think they would be so joyful to have you acknowledge them every once in a while when working or browsing. Type some nice words into the command prompt for your hardworking desktop everybody.
- If you have a setup like mine then you can rest your leg against the pc tower while sitting at the desk. Leaning up at their side essentially.
Mateo🧺
- Ever wrapped yourself in a blanket like a cape? Yeah, another carryable dateable. He can often be quite busy with the inanimals so i think he would appriciate being able to spend time with you in some way even if the dateavators are out of charges.
- If you like soft textures you can keep him next to you too, dragging your hand across the textile while focused on something else. I bet he would find it equally as soothing as you.
- Bundle him up close to you in a hug, mabey take a nap. Like quite a few of the others he allready enjoyed the times spent with you even pre-dateavators, so a lot of the same just more intentional and loving. And when you feel the blanket settling just a little closer to you than before? Getting even cozier than though possible? Thats just him returning the sentiment.
Johnny🚿
- like the other dateables that are either too stationary or out of the way you would need to make your gestures count when youre there instead of just the silent time spent togheter.
- whenever youre passing by for whatever reason take a little detour to your shower to give him a pat on one of the glass walls in greeting. Make the touch linger to fluster him a little. The extra attention is new to him as you woulden't have had any reasons to touch a shower more than the breif times required when in use.
- He woulden't mind it if your daily showers took a bit longer than before, the extra work is more than worth the additional time with you. And of course he would be serenading you the entire time regardless if you could hear it or not, mabey a faint echo from the pipes?
- When you're done feather your hand across the metal of the knobs when you go to shut the water of, just as a little gesture of thanks. This gentleshower would be so giddy afterwards.
Dorian🚪
- Opening a door? Lean completely up against him everytime as you push the door open. Might even make him crack his composure juuuust a little.
- On your phone for something? Consider taking a moment to sit down leaned up against him while scrolling instead of your usual spot. Keep him company while hes so busy gaurding the house.
Thinking of pre-dateviators Amir and how, after taking a hot shower, the steam on the mirror has fogged it up and made a perfect doodle pad for you! You can’t help but use your fingers and draw out simple hearts, phrases, smiley faces.. etc!
After the fact, hes left a melted mess. The way your fingers felt trailing across him—a feeling he can never get used too!!!
After you’ve received the dateviators, one time you instinctively drew out a heart. You felt bad—did that bother him? It wasn’t until you realized he absolutely adored it that you ended up doodling every time you got out of the shower <33
Warnings: Mentions of being sick. That’s… kind of it? Just general cold-like symptoms like having a sore throat, congestion, and a fever, and other things but nothing too specific or graphic.
Author’s Snip: I was also going to add Parker and Skips but I generally don’t know what to write for them. You can feel free to say your thoughts if you want about those two and maybe I might write about them in a sort of part two.
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
Amir
Amir tries his best to assure you that you are still beautiful, even if your condition for the past few days has gotten in the way of some of you lovely features and makes you a little less well kept
He wishes he could do more for you in terms of taking care of you, but he can only do so much as a humble mirror. He is glad that you do have the rest of the house to tend to you. He does still try his best to do what he can though
Amir lets you know that he still thinks you’re divine regardless of if your nose is all red and stuffy and you’re in some sweats.
“It’s all temporary, azizam. It will pass and you will return to your naturally beautiful state. All you must do is rest and not overwork your body while it tries to recover.”
He does tell you that you look good in your sweats too, even if they’re just plain ones or some old clothes that are comfortable
Amir also offers to sit you down and brush your hair for you if it’s all messy from laying in bed and around the house all day and night
Amir is very gentle and thoughtful in this process. He holds it and brushes it with the tenderness and care like he’s tending something precious and fragile. Making sure to brush with thoroughly but also slowly, avoiding the possibility of snagging any knots or clumps and gently working them out and starting again.
He will usually hum something softly or talk to you while he does this so that there isn’t just pure silence
Once he’s done, your hair is as good as new, if not slightly better
And if you want (and if your hair is long enough) Amir will offer to braid it so that it doesn’t run the chance of getting messy again
If you say yes then he’ll do this with the same amount of care and attention
He still wishes that he could watch over and tend to you better. Technically he can if you’re in bed or in the bathroom. Be he gets that you might not want to lay in bed all day since there’s nothing there to do but just lay there, and also, if you’re sick and spending a lot of time in the bathroom that’s usually… not a good thing
But he’ll gladly let others take care of you and watch over you when you’re else where
Hector is actually Amir’s closest confidant when it comes to this since Hector will always follow you around to make sure the rooms are to your liking, so he’s able to give Amir updates
Amir: How are they?
Hector: They appear to be fine. They’re sitting in the living room watching TV, cuddled up with Mateo and eating the soup Stephen and Mitchell prepared for them.
Amir: Good, good.
Chance
Oh man, he really feels bad for you
Chance does his best to help you get through and over being sick but there’s only so much a little D20 man can do
He cuddles with you and tells you about all of the things that he’s thinking about for his campaign ideas and asking about your thoughts and suggestions about them. It’s his best way to soothe you and get your mind off of being sick
Don’t worry about him getting sick, he’s literally a D20 he can’t get sick lol
He just sort of acts as your entertainment while the others who have the ability to tend to you and take care of you do their work
He actually goes out of his way to thank them too. He’s so sweet and friendly.
The Hanks
Bless their sweet little hanger hearts
When they find out you’re sick and that the house is taking care of you they’re like group of well-meaning children who are like “We wanna help!” and they do their best but like… they’re the Hanks…
They also act as your entertainment and company-keepers but they’re still a little rowdy and can’t agree on what to do. Obviously they can’t do anything extreme or gnarly with you since you’re sick but since they’re all about doing gnarly stuff, they kind of don’t know what to do
They are very entertaining on their own just by talking though so that sort of how they keep you entertained if you’re really going through it and bedridden
You do end up on a big ol cuddle pile though. They’re keeping the cold away but they might actually end up increasing your fever with all the warmth
Also, they’re like really excited to help with anything
Stephen made you soup and when the Hanks asked about what they could do he told them that the soup either goes to you or you go to the soup…
They then picked you up out of bed and all carried you like fucking Pikmin downstairs to where your meal was waiting. They didn’t need to all carry you. You didn’t even need to be carried. But they all got so stoked and were like “I wanna carry them down. No I want to carry them down. We can all carry them down!”
It also works vice versa. How many himbo hangers does it take to bring a homeowner a bowl of soup and bread? Five… apparently because they all carried it like ants bringing food back to the colony
They’re very stupid but they have the spirit. Please tell them they did good
Hector
Similar to Amir, he wishes he could do more for you in this trying time of you being sick
Yes, he can make the room whatever temperature you want in order to help keep you warm when you get the chills and cool you off during your fevers, and he can always keep a close eye on you throughout the vents of whatever room you’re in
But he wants to do more. Be more ‘useful’ than he already is
He wants to be the one who holds you when you’re getting rest. He wants to be the one to change out the damp rag on your head when it’s not cold enough anymore. The one who makes and brings you soups and breads, and gently serve you your medicine. He wants to be at your every beck and call. He knows that he already is with being your AC. But he wants to do more damnit
He actually gets so passionate about this that he was able to alleviate you from burning up from a particularly nasty fever completely on accident
Like I mentioned in Amir’s part, Hector makes sure to keep a close eye on you at all times. He was already watching you even before you were sick but you get what I mean. Hector watches you closely for any signs that some symptoms might be giving you a hard time or you look more unwell
“You seem very drowsy, my love. Maybe you should lay down and have some rest.”
“Let me turn up the temperature for you, please. You’ve chrysalized yourself in all of the blankets and you’re still shivering.”
“Maybe it’s time you take some more medicine, yes? It’s been some time since you last did so and it looks to me like your ailments have returned.”
It’s even worse when you realize him. He goes from being your boyfriend/husband to your bellboy and nurse at the same time. He’s always beside you and asks you if you need anything if you do so much as lightly groan or sigh
He’s great at soothing you to sleep though if you’re feeling restless at night. Either by just serenading you or talking about something else that comes to his mind. He can actually get you to fall asleep like this very easily. And he will gladly do it over and over again if you keep waking up in the night
Mac
Oh they scour the entire internet for all sorts of remedies and ways to combat your symptoms other than just taking even more medicine. And when I say they scour, they scour
And the they relay them to you for you to try
“Pinch your nose closed and hold your breath and puff the air back from your lungs to your nostrils a couple of times. It should relieve the congestion for a bit.”
“Chew some gum it. Says that it stimulates your sinuses during the chewing and it will make your nose clear up.” (Don’t know if this is true but my aunt told me this)
“Gargle some salt water.”
They say some ridiculous ones but they assure you that they’re only saying the ones they found that have feedback claiming that they worked
They do tell you regular ones though like suggesting that you order some groceries of various things and put it in your food
Of course they know they aren’t a doctor and there’s a chance that not everything is going to work for you. They leave most of the medical suggestions to Farya but they’ll be there to throw in a new remedy the found
They also are happy to just interface with you and go down all sorts of video rabbit holes and watching people read reddit stories to kill time and get your mind off of being sick
You guess have opinions about some of the people on r/amItheasshole and other stories
Sometimes the whole office gang joins in on the conversation (in general, not just when you’re sick, y’all being JUDGING people)
It’s actually really nice. Mac does like working alongside you when you’re working but just getting to be with you and binge watch some old internet series and silly little videos is nice. You guys can obviously do that outside of you being sick, but these moments feel extra tender to you when you are
You wake up to find your air conditioner to not be working. And damn, are you too broke for a repairman. Welp, better get a manual and start learning yourself, then!
You don't know that every touch of the sensitive wires is very strongly felt.
It had been almost a month since this new human moved into the house, solo. And Hector has had his eyes firmly fixed on them since.
He didn’t know what it was that originally drew him to them. Perhaps it was just out of pure loneliness, his yearning for another’s touch latching on to you the moment you pressed the buttons of his thermostat. Or perhaps it was out of a sense of kinship. You lived alone. He had never seen you talk on the phone with another, nor have you had anyone over since you moved in. It made him wonder if you also felt the same solitary ache he felt, the same yearning, or if you were simply that much of an introvert. He wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about you. Perhaps that was the reason after all— plain curiosity. All he knew is that he gleaned a type of pleasure he’d never felt before just watching you go about your day, learning your habits, your hobbies, your likes and your dislikes, all of which he dutifully wrote down in detail in his various journals. At first he told himself it was only work, that he was doing all this to help him care for you better, that noting your favourite colour and what brand of toothpaste you buy would certainly be relevant to his job in the future. But it didn’t take long for him to just accept the truth— he was in love with you. Madly so.
In love with the disgruntled expression on your face when you wake up in the morning, the early sunlight framing your beautiful face perfectly. In love with the furrow of your brow as you typed on your computer, and the shape and dexterity of your fingers as you did so. In love with the curve of your lips and the slight skip in your step when you come home from a long day’s work, the relief on your face when the cool air— his cool air— hits your flushed cheeks. Above all he loved when you used him, gave him purpose with a flick up or down of temperature, and fulfilled him with the relaxed expression on your face. It made something within him jump just imagining it being his influence that made you feel so.
The unfortunate reality that you would always be human and he would always be… this settled in shortly after the brief pseudo-honeymoon phase he had when you first moved in. And even if you did magically gain the ability to speak to and see him, what chance did a man like him have with a person like you? Only in literature could he have you. Only in the midst of ink and paper, where his eyes were brighter and jaw was defined, where his nose didn't curve sharply and he had more than a few wisps of stubble on his chin would you be able to touch him, would he be able to imagine you loving him. So he wrote, and he wrote, story after story of the two of you falling for each other every way two lovers could. And it made him happy.
He still remembered when he heard your voice for the first time. It was a few weeks into your move, where he had already developed quite the fascination with you. And there you were, bare form obscured by the misty glass of the shower, humming.
It was a tune he didn’t recognize, but a rather beautiful one, if only because it was your lips which formed the melody. He found himself closing his eyes, the air whirring through his vents faster. He found himself, as he was so often before, suddenly extremely envious of Johnny, who had a front row seat to such exquisite beauty.
He couldn’t stop the disappointed sigh he let out when you stopped, only to realize that that meant you were stepping out soon. His whole body flushed when the door began to open, and he immediately crawled back into the ventilation system, cheeks burning. He wasn’t that far gone yet. He was sure that if he saw you at that moment, he would’ve died.
The first time he heard you say actual words was much later. He had been looking forward to you coming home that entire day, to see you step through the door with that look of relief on your pretty face… only for you to immediately stub your toe on Dorian’s frame.
He immediately jolted, hands gripping the frame as he watched you suck in a pained breath through your teeth, face twisting as you shook out your foot and moving to sit on a nearby seat. You had hit it hard enough for it to bleed, a few drops of dark red hitting the tiled floor beneath you.
Hector found himself transfixed on them.
“Fuck…”
When you cursed under your breath, his heart skipped a beat.
He felt even more vile than usual, gleaning a strange, dark sense of satisfaction from watching the way the blood dripped slowly down over your skin, settling in the cracks of the floor below. He suddenly imagined kneeling in front of you, taking your leg in his hands gently and slowly moving his tongue up the wound, gathering the metallic taste and staining his teeth with it. He swallowed thickly, watching the irritated look on your face as you put one of Farya’s bandages over it. With your brows furrowed and your lips pulled back ro reveal your teeth, you looked beautiful. He was convinced that any expression that formed on your face would be the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.
After that, and a night of decidedly covering his mouth with his hand while his other slipped lower, he stopped trying to pretend that what he felt for you was anything innocent.
So started a routine. Watching you turned from quick, stolen glances to a full on obsession, and so did helping you. It was no coincidence the coldness of your house woke you up just in time for work when your alarm failed to go off. It was no coincidence a blast of warm or cool air tickled your neck every time you groaned about the weather, or how it always seemed to adjust itself on days you were sick or tired. It was no coincidence you hear a distinctive whirr coming from your vents every time you took a piece of clothing off in the sweltering heat. He lived to please, but he had some needs too.
Until one fateful day, when he woke up with a pounding in his circuits.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. He knew the moment the day started. He was overheated, dizzy, he felt as though he was disconnected from himself. He was having a mechanical failure.
A wave of panic hit him at the same time as a wave of guilt. You would soon awake to a hellish heat in the house, realize he was busted… and then what? Replace him?
The thought sent him careening.
A groan caught his attention. His heart dropped. There you were, sitting up in bed, a confused and irritated expression on your face. No doubt because of the heat. Because of him.
He gripped the bars of the grate, head spinning as you got up and walked over to the thermostat. He watched as you went to touch the buttons, only for it to not work. He didn’t feel the touch. That meant one thing… a wire had snapped.
The expression on your face was one of annoyance. Of… disappointment. He felt like sobbing. It took everything in his power not to break down right there. If he couldn’t even fulfill his one purpose to you… what good was he? And when you walked away again, preparing for your day, muttering about money, he was left to stew in his own despair.
He crawled back into the confines of the vents, curling up into himself. Not only did the faulty wire make his mind go into overdrive, it ached, like a part of him had necrosed. You had gone outside… why? It was your day off. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand. The only reason you’d be going outside now is… to find a replacement for him.
He no longer felt like crying. He just felt a sort of hollow bitterness in the center of his chest. He always knew, deep down, that his usefulness to you would not last forever. His only tie to you, his only way to serve you was gone in an instant, through no fault of his, and he will pay the ultimate price. Being separated from you.
When you came home, he expected the worst. But instead, you only flipped open a book. He leaned closer to the inside of the grate, trying to get a better look. …’HVAC repair’?
He didn't have much time to process this, because you were already making your way to the attic. To him.
He didn’t know what he expected. A moving crew, a pair of pliers? Certainly not you sitting down next to his main system, a toolbox in hand. His heart suddenly raced for an entirely different reason. You were attempting to fix him. Him! You weren’t going to throw him out? He supposed being the one who’s cared for for once wouldn't be so bad… especially if it's by your gentle-looking hands.
His breathing got heavy as you opened up the small latch, revealing the inner workings of him inside. You muttered something under your breath. Your words sounded annoyed, but he could barely process them. Not when you had begun to touch his wires.
He felt his body jolt, and his hand flew up to grip his hair, trying to keep himself grounded as he felt electricity spreading through his every synapse. The pads of your fingertips gently pushed aside some of his wire work, the soft touch making him squirm inside the cramped vent. He was, for once, glad you couldn’t perceive him. You would have for sure heard the deep whine that just fell from his lips. He felt his hips press down into the meral beneath him, desperate for friction.
You finally found what you were looking for, a red wire, bent and showing the exposed, frayed circuits inside. The broken little thing had fried some of his systems, the leaking coolant gathering on your fingers, making them slick. The sight made him swallow, his mouth salivating. You were reaching into the deepest parts of him, stopping occasionally to glance at the manual, which only served to deny him. To tease him. Your wandering touches grew a little bolder as you figured out what you needed to do, and you touched the broken wire.
He almost screamed, back arched as his hips slammed into metal below. He held onto the grate for dear life, eyes wrenched shut. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through him like you had gently kissed an exposed nerve. You might as well have been fucking him properly with the way his hand involuntarily moved to free his aching cock from the confines of his pants, his forehead pressed pathetically against the bars.
You began to work slowly, agonizingly slow. Using tools and your deft fingers to run over his failing innards. He had begun to rut desperately into his palm, imagining you were able to touch this body instead of his mechanical one. Tears pricked his eyes when you used a pair of pliers to straighten out the wire, the feel of the clamps on the sensitive metal going straight to his weeping cock. He felt that familiar tightening in his lower abdomen, a blooming heat spreading out over his whole body, from the tips of his fingers to his lower extremities. He had spent many nights wishing he could touch you. Imagining himself running his hands down the body he watched from the shadows, over your stomach, your thighs, entangling his legs with yours until you couldn’t tell which one of you started and which one of you began, but in this moment, this lovely, torturous moment, he needed if. This wasn’t a simple craving anymore, not a fleeting want or a wish. He would die if he never got to have you. If he never got to hear you whispering his name against his neck, kissing it, maybe biting down. If he never got to hear you giggle between desperate, open-mouthed kisses, or groan at the feel of his tongue between your legs. He needed to kneel in front of you, hold onto your legs as you stroked his hair like a prized pet. He needed you to tell him you loved him as you buried him within you or shoved your fingers inside him. He would go crazy at just a touch from you, but he’s sure he’d go mad without it. Your fingertips rubbed his wounded wire, feeling the heat that had gathered at the frayed ends. He bit his free hand, hard, trying to spare himself the embarrassment of the whole house hearing, though he’s sure the other attic-dwellers are well aware of what was going on.
The taste of blood was tangy on his tongue, but he continued to bite down, imagining for a moment it was the inner flesh of your thigh. He whimpered into it, letting the pain ground him from the intense things he was feeling. Tears rolled down his cheeks, a mix of pleasure and bitterness at the knowledge that he could never have you as properly as he wanted filling him. But your hands, your sweet, loving hands, were too good to ignore. and when you finally managed to fix the wire, he came, a sob ripped from his throat as the pleasure buzzed his brain and painted his hand.
The HVAC system whirred to life, cold air filling the room. You let out a sigh of relief, wiping sweat off your forehead as you sat back on your ankles, closing him back up. He trembled within the vent system, little aftershocks of his orgasm racking his body, making his muscles twitch and spasm. He weakly reached for the grate in front of him, holding onto the bars as he watched you gather your things, a little satisfied smile on your beautiful face. He fell in love all over again.
Crawling out of the vent to clean himself up was embarrassing, but he had some new fantasies to add to his ever-growing book about you. He wiped the blood off his hand, still a little shaky on his legs.
He would watch you that night with a newfound dreaminess to his eyes, unable to stop himself from kicking his feet a little as he laid on his stomach in the slightly less lonely vent system.
summary: chance has never been so entirely focused on your hands before, but he loves it. he was absolutley smitten. he hopes that you feel the same.
warnings: slightly suggestive(?), yearning, gay panic, a pair of dorks. grammatical errors, english is not my first language.
a/n: my first time posting a fic in tumblr to improve my writing because i suck at it and romance in general. so i thought i'd give it a shot. all because of a game that lets you goon to objects. i love this silly nerd sm <3
Chance really loved your hands.
Right before you received the dateviators, he always considers himself lucky when he has your undivided attention even if it takes place in your office. It's been a while since you've played G&G with others and became more focused on your work. And he was kinda left out when he sits there on your desk and watches you type away on the keyboard with a bored look on your face.
But, that's where it would start.
From the moment something was bothering you, he would often watch you lean back on your chair and let your hands fidget. Whether it would be your own fingers or the other objects around you. Sometimes the ghostly touch of your fingertips would hover above the keyboard that Mac loves so much, or your fingernails tapping on Dasha until it created a calm rhythm.
Most of the time it was him. The die rolls under your touch once you extend your hand absentmindedly to reach for the small object. The warmth as you rolled him on your palm and fingers engulfed him to no end.
You both didn't know when it started, but it immediately became a habit of yours and Chance was embarrassed to admit out loud that he loved it. It has become a perk when you're working. It felt like you sought out for him when something frustrates you, and worst of all, he can feel it.
Embarrassingly so.
The way your hand would always find him just to trace your thumb onto the engraved numbers, one by one while you sorted out your files. Often placing him in between your index and ring finger, or shaking him under the curve of your hand. As if you were rolling for nothing but luck to get through this.
He can feel the shivers running through his spine whenever you do that, and would always savor the moment. Your hands alone make him smitten. It's as if your hands caressed his face, softly squishing his cheeks together. Tracing them to every crevice on his head; it could be his jaw, his scalp, his nape, and the back of his ear.
Oh. Chance can always feel himself flush just from your touch.
Time skipped to now, and the dateviators can finally grant you access to talk to anything in the house. Mac was talking to you about the serious amount of self-insert fanfic to delete to upgrade the computer's system. Again.
While Chance was uninterested in the other things you both discussed, he couldn't help but overhear your conversation. Especially when the computer would mention your boxer purchases and many other things that make you flush to no end.
Heat would blossom on his cheeks. He couldn't even exit the room when he was waiting patiently for you to finish up. That's why he occupied himself to write an extended scene for the oneshot you both played last week while the die waited. He was supposed to write, but now all he wanted was for you to reach out to him. He thinks you'll pass out from the computer's advances of how beet red you've gotten and Mac was completely enjoying it.
Chance was fully aware of how the inanimate people in this house found you endearing. He has an equal share of jealousy whenever you're with someone other than him and now he can only look at you sympathetically. He watches you fidget your hand and immediately knew it was time for him to step up.
He pushed himself in his unmoving state and rolled until your hand picked him up as he was engulfed with warmth once more. Your discussion with Mac continues and Chance knew you could never say no to them. After all, you're trying your best to help around the house and its problems due to the ability to speak to them, hearing them out the best you can.
It didn't take long for Mac to upgrade, and with Chance in your hand, the die discovered a new perk of yours while you fidget. Tossing him in the air was clearly new despite how he liked the breeze brush against him and fell safely onto your hand. Even if your conversation with Mac ended, you kept tossing him while you were lost in your thoughts.
With your self-insert fanfics gone, of course you would be distressed. You're devoted when it comes to it and you would resort to seeking comfort writing it. Especially with your job taken from you. But he knew you were always glad to help others.
He snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed he was high up in the air for the nth time. It was concerning since you've never done this before. Chance’s moment to stop you was cut short when he slipped from your touch. That’s when you realize your mistake, you can't reach him in this distance.
“Shit. Chance-!”
Your office chair swerved harshly and you immediately felt the tingling pain knocking the air out of your lungs. You found yourself on the floor, with your side and arm tensing from the fall. Putting yourself in an uncomfortable position whilst your eyes trailed over to your extended fist.
You were so engrossed on the sight of it by a bated breath that you didn't notice the shadow looming above you, or even the dateviators still on the bridge of your nose. The pain had subsided to worry when you noticed subtle movement and you turned to face where.
There he was, Chance, looming over you with such incomprehensible eyes as his brows furrowed in worry. You didn't waste any time when the warmth of your hands slowly returned to his face. Shifting it to the side to see if he was hurt as your thumb traced to his cheekbones.
“Dude… Are you okay? I didn't mean to space out, I'm sorry...” You muttered with such guilt in your eyes.
Chance didn't respond which worries you, and instead he sunk in your touch and let himself be bathed with it. Somewhat entranced the way your hands trailed to his jaw. Calloused but gentle. Is it wrong for him to crave more? He didn't even realize how starved he was of your touch when his hands trailed to cup your wrists.
“Chance…?”
You felt the edge of your breath hitch when your pupils shook from the sight in front of you. Chance held your wrists in a gentle grip and leaned into your hands, caressing himself with it. It felt too hot, his face burned and slowly but surely, yours too. You tumbled over your words and internally cursed at yourself when words betrayed you.
How can you even form the right sentences when his hands took yours and began to pepper kisses? Every peck felt electrifying, from your fingers to your palms. You didn't even imagine him being this bold. You always perceived him as an adorable person who wanted to make friends easier and has a firm love of G&G.
You don’t know anymore, but one thing you do know was everything just felt right. He couldn't help it. From the moment you became his friend through your first meeting, the campaigns, and hang-outs, Chance couldn't help but become putty in your hands.
And he knows he wasn't the only one. His ruby eyes would watch you stare at his hands that was thicker than yours and if he looked closely enough, you would squirm under him due to the rapid beating of your ribcage. And him in-between your legs wasn't helping the both of you either.
He chuckled under his breath and you snapped out of your blushing stupor.
You meekly raised a brow under him. Grumbling softly. “What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing.” He says but it didn't look like it was nothing when he intertwined his hand through yours. Your face blew a fuse once more when he planted a firm kiss on your knuckle. He didn't waste any second and looked at you so tenderly.
“Do you love my hands that much?” He asks tenderly.
Chance fought a laugh when you short-circuited. Stuttering words that were difficult to make out. You don't have to say it. He already knows by the way your teeth chewed the flesh on your bottom lip. It was a rare sight to behold as the homeowner. A rare sight indeed just for him.
You really loved his hands too.
a/n: i have a habit fidgeting my dices especially my d20 and thought i'll make a short out of it. i'm already regretting my decision posting this while i was editing stuff in. but i'll do it for the m!readers (and kinda for myself). i'll try to do dorian next if my writer's block isn't out to get me!
So i saw this idea when browsing the Date Everything tag (edit* found it!) about what if realizing the dateables sent the player into a coma and welll it made me think of some angsty ideas...
What if: for each dateable realized a part of your lifeforce went with them, unknowingly making you weaker and weaker. You did it so fast that nobody noticed what was happening until it was too late and everybody had allready left. Over time (about a year or so) the player gradually deteriorated. It was subtle, whenever a dateable visited you would assure them you're just tired or under the weather, but as time progresses they start to become increasingly worried. That is until; everybody is contacted by a frantic Skylar saying somethings happend to you and to get back home STAT.
A large amount arrives almost at the same time, stumbling over each other demanding to know whats happend- are you okey?!? With more to come soon after.
Not letting anyone see you just yet Skylar breaks the news: you have fallen into a coma and aren't likely to wake up on your own anytime soon... possibly ever. That –as can be expected– causes an uproar that has to be calmed down by Florence and Celia, before Skylar explains the last part in a shaking voice.
With the help of Franklin (tinfoilhat) they figured out that the Realizing process is the cause– and if they want to save you, someone has to give up their newfound humanity and go back to being an object; so that you may regain enough energy to wake up.
(Insert dateables of your choice) volunteers in a heartbeat, their dreams out in the world aren't worth the cost of your life. More agreements follows shortly, but Skylar informs them they need to take it slow and monitor you. With the first voluteers picked they are given a time limit to wrap up any loose ends in their current lives and everyone –friends and lovers alike– visits your bedside the whole time in between.
Finally the volunteers are gathered togheter in your bedroom. Gazing at your barely breathing form, resolve settles around them, they would gladely give up everything just to see you smile, or hear your voice, –or just, simply be alive and awake. You've given so much to them. Now its time for someone to give back.
The reversal process take place, and as they fade back to the plane and form they occupied before, they see your eyelids flutter and ever so slowly open.
I think the end game in this au would be something bittersweet- in the end you end up awake and no longer slowly dying, but weaker than before. And a few dateables back as they were pre-realization, needing the dateviators to be interacted with in humanoid form. But if you want it slightly happier we can add a little twist: they can choose to manifest for a short time as a human every few days or so to go outside and do with as they wish, (as long as they stick close to you when in the house; their essentially "borrowing" your lifeforce). Its not the same as before– but you have each other and thats enough.
Imagine having some mock argument with Chance (consecutive bad rolls, e.c.t) during GnG so you jokingly put his die into dice jail only to recive the absolute saddest, most kicked puppy look in existance.
