carbon-dating-everything

[carbon-dating-everything]

Hii! I'd relaly love to see your take on kissing headcanons for Daisuke or Cabrizzio so thanks a lot if you're doing this req <33

hello!!! i could not decide between the two of them so, surprise anon, you get both >:)) hope that’s okay, and hope you enjoy!!

drink me in; steal my air

pairings: daisuke x gender neutral reader, cabrizzio x gender neutral reader

content warning: suggestive

word count: 1 k (536 / 500)

daisuke

I feel as if Daisuke presents himself differently depending on whether you’re in public or alone.

In public settings, he’s certainly a gentleman through and through, and his kisses are nothing short of chivalrous - always to the forehead, cheek or the hand, feather-light and fleeting, enough to show his care and appreciation for you and the time you devote to the dishware together.

Though it’s no secret that you two are in a relationship (word travels fast in the house, and the Scandalabra is too nosy for his own good), he maintains this reservedness out of respect for you and himself - when you’re among the more fragile objects, it’s natural to put up a stronger front.

They’re lovely, and exactly what you need to get through your day. But they make it all the more worth it later when you two are alone.

In private, his kisses have a weight to them - as full attention is turned to you, his reservedness changes into intense, quiet focus and passion as he captures his lips with your own with a force that could knock you over, were you not already in his arms.

No action is without intention, and not a single kiss is wasteful; each one he gives you is one that is rewarded by a smile, a sigh, or a gasp from you. He is particularly fixated on your lips, but will also make sure to devote time to the places which he’d only lightly touched that morning - a way of making sure his touch lasts.

Of course, as we all know, this man is good with his hands (and I’m sure that that’s been explored at length in many a spicier fic) but i feel that he really puts them to work simply while he’s kissing you, too, carefully grasping at anything he can, playing with intensities - he might delicately interlace your hands to join you together, or place one at your nape as he draws on in deeper, firm and reassuring.

But above all, he always takes such care with you - you’re more precious than any of the dishware. You know this even when he sweeps you off your feet from the way he cradles you tenderly in his arms.

And whether you consider yourself the finest china, or the lumpiest mound of clay, he will still treat you with all the reverence he thinks you deserve.

He smells of tea and spices, the aromatic, perfumed remnants of a thousand meals and beverages consumed on your dishware many times before; it all blends together as he drinks you in. A hand is placed at your nape, sitting there, a presence that tells you of safety, of care taken, and the rest of you is cradled within him. His long hair frames your face like a curtain, and as his breath fans across you, you feel as if the burdens of the day lift from your chest, replaced by the weight of his lips exploring every inch of you that you have to offer. You are among the most delicate of his possessions, but you are not fragile, and he understands this perfectly well; and to you he murmurs, ‘Shall we head somewhere to continue, my love?’

cabrizzio

Contrary to Daisuke, Cabrizzio does not shy away from showing the house his affection for you at every opportunity - his kisses to you in public are to the cheeks and the lips, lingering and passionate. He’s a constant flirter and he delights in seeing your flustered reactions every time.

This isn’t to say that his energy dampens in private. Rather, it’s a case of letting himself show everything to you - his real vulnerabilities are exposed aside from his general affectations. And that vulnerability entails taking a bit more time in order to fully bare his soul to you; less plagiarism from movies and more truth from the heart.

In short, he is nothing more than authentic when you are together, and you do not need the veneer of a romance in order to love. Though he never stops speaking, you can tell that not all his lines are rehearsed, and they can come out just a little awkward, and they’ll still somehow be the most goddamn romantic thing you’ve heard in your life.

He loves planting kisses everywhere when you are together, and never in the same place at once - every inch of you ought to be treasured, tesoro, after all, and he cherishes each part of your face, praising them so that none are left out. Although I believe he has a particular affinity for the areas where your skin is thinner, such as your neck, your ears, and your eyelids - a tradeoff for letting him show the thinner parts of himself, he wishes only to devote his time to yours.

And when his kisses are wild and spontaneous and deep, not out of a fit of passion but of a desperate need - a need for you to see him as everything that he is rather than what he wishes to present to the world, a need to see beyond what he’s only observed in movies.

During these moments, you know that you are in the presence of someone who will get the most out of any experiences the real world will have to offer him.

His thumb brushes your bottom lip, and when he kisses you, it’s slow, languid, reminding you of lazy summer days as the sunbeams warm your face; you are transported back to that environment as he steals the air from your lungs. The light catches his lacquer and shines, and you can see faint images of yourself in him as your tongues dance together - steps that are not always perfectly attuned together, but no less real. His stubble scratches you gently as he pulls back, nipping the shell of your ear as he embraces you further, and he whispers that ‘to sit with you like this, vita mia, is but one of the many flowers in my garden, ah… but one of the many beautiful flowers in my garden of life.’ You smile against him, and you sit there on the kitchen counter, and oh, you know that you are in love.

a/n: i was trying to find sprite poses for them i liked that weren't just them hogging the space with their elbows lol, and then i gave up

[carbon-dating-everything]

Listen hear me out

Eddie and Volt (kinda established relationship?) with a fem!reader who went to medschool during her first few years of moving into the house. And now with a medical degree and while she's still trying to find a job in the medical field she spends her knowledge on educating the dateables and treating any injuries they may have (pretend for a second that's how it works). One main victim of this is Eddie because of his maintenance work. Hands always bruised and rough so reader often comes to treat it despite his protests. And ofc whenever Volt has accidents and injures himself she's right on the case.

(Farya def loves her)

hey!!!! love this request - was wondering when i’d get an eddie and volt one!! they’re two of the most popular characters in this game for sure (and i can def see why ;))

supplying aid to the power supply

pairing: eddie and volt x female reader (referred to with she/her, no physical features described)

content warnings: injuries (description of bruises and cuts; fic is set after the injuries happen)

word count: 1.4 k

‘She’s going to fuss over you, you know.’

Eddie groans and turns to face Volt. ‘She’s not going to be worried about shit unless you tell her. I’m fine. My hand’s already healing.’ Grunting, he raises his very much not healed right hand with difficulty, a large red bruise staining the skin near the wrist.

He manages to grab his glass on the third try and, ungracefully, downs it in one gulp. ‘See?’

At this, Volt arches an eyebrow. ‘Very convincing, Eddie. Should I go tell her that you’re feeling peachy, or do you want to let her see for herself?’

Right on cue, you duck into the Breaker Box, wearing your fantastic red shirt and your Dateviators perched on your nose. ‘Hey, guys - how’s it going?’

Volt waves at you. Eddie waves and winces. 

You stop in your tracks and your eyes narrow, spotting Eddie’s hand immediately. ‘Explain.’

Eddie sighs. ‘It’s really no big deal this time, live wire. I fell off the ladder repairing a cable.’

‘One of the rungs hit his hand. I believe it requires attention,’ Volt sings out.

Eddie glares at him, and the white-haired man smirks.

You frown. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? I’m going to the fridge to get some ice from Freddy, I’ll be right back.’

And with that, you do an about-face and vanish back out of the electrical cupboard, just as quick as you came. Eddie sighs in frustration, placing his head in his good hand.

Volt hums. ‘Didn’t I tell you that would happen?’

‘Shut up.’

With a clatter, the cupboard door flies open again, and before either of them can register it you’re swooping towards Eddie with the first aid kit and a bag of ice in your hands. 

Eddie blinks. ‘That took shockingly little time.’

‘I’ve been fixing up objects all day with Farya,’ you reply, sitting down next to him and setting the first aid kit on the counter. ‘I figured getting help from a literal med kit couldn’t hurt.’

You turn, and business-like, begin inspecting Eddie’s hand. ‘So. What happened?’

‘Well, like I said, I was trying to fix one of the cables and solder it back together, when I fell and caught my hand in one of the ladder rungs-‘

‘And after that, Eddie couldn’t complete any of the other repairs,’ Volt interrupts him. ‘He wasn’t able to move his hand.’

‘Mm, makes sense. When you hit something that badly, you’re not able to move it for a while - it’s surprising that you’re able to at all right now. Sort of like when the power fizzles in the Breaker Box and everything stops working for a while - the power supply is gone.’ You begin gently prodding the bruise, feeling for a reaction. ‘Anywhere you’re most hurt?’ 

One spot in particular makes Eddie suck in the air between his teeth in a sharp hiss, and you wince sympathetically, ‘Ooh, yeah, that’s closer to the bone, which is why it also has more obvious swelling. You’ll definitely be feeling that one for longer, and it’ll fade slower, too - probably going to get stiff for a few days.’

‘Great,’ Eddie deadpans, and leans back as far as he’s able in the bar seat, tangling his good hand in his hair. ‘How long until I can get things going again?’

You take one of the clean dish rags from behind the bar and wrap the ice in it, pressing it to Eddie’s bruise. When you’re done applying it, you stand back. ‘Well, you don’t need any serious medical treatment - all you need is some ice packs here and there for the first day or two, and then keep it elevated and close to heat so that the blood circulates better. You should be able to get back to work soon if you follow those instructions. Got that?’

Eddie mock salutes with his good hand. ‘Aye-aye, captain.’ He points to the other things you’ve set out on the bar - bandages, antiseptic, and. cotton swabs. ‘What’re those for?’ 

You stare at him incredulously, gesturing to what he might deem as no big deal, but what you estimate are a dozen other little cuts and scrapes littering his forearms, some healed and some raw. ‘Eddie. You can’t be serious.’ 

Volt chuckles. ‘Our Eddie is certainly bad at taking care of himself, isn’t he, live wire?’

You round on him, poking a finger at his chest. ’Don’t laugh at him when you’re no better. When was the last time you actually closed the Breaker Box’s performance section for a day?’

He stares, taken aback. ‘Er-‘

‘Right. You don’t know because you don’t, Volt,’ you scold. ‘I swear, getting sick’ll be the death of you both. If you can even die.’

‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ Eddie deadpans.

And maybe it’s because you’ve tired yourself from helping people all day, but something in you seems to have had enough. 

‘No! No, it’s not fine!’ 

The sudden volume in your words stuns you all into silence, and both the dateables’ eyes go wide, staring at you. You flush, coughing lightly before continuing in a normal tone of voice.

‘Injuries are no small thing. You might take them lightly now, but what happens if they pile up? What if you have another incident where the power blows? Don’t you remember how close you guys came before?

‘And one day…’ Something in your face falls, and you look a million miles away, as if you’re contemplating an impossible reality for them. ‘One day you might get hurt, really hurt, and I might not be around to fix you anymore.’

They look at each other, having an invisible conversation, and Volt reaches out to you apologetically.

‘Live wire-‘

As soon as he says that, it’s as if a mask slips back on and you suddenly seem to loom over them - a towering figure crackling with electricity of your own.  ‘What you need - what you both need - is rest. And whether you choose to take rest or let it take you by force is up to you. Make sense?’

They nod slowly in unison, and you lean back, satisfied, turning back to the bar to clean Eddie’s scrapes. ‘Good.’

There’s a few moments where no one says anything, listening to the gentle sounds of you patting cotton on Eddie’s arms. 

It’s Volt who finally breaks the silence, peering closer at what you’re doing. ‘How do you know all this, anyway?’

You hum. ‘Well, this is basic knowledge in med school, and I’ve had to deal with plenty more tough patients than you. I wanted to work for Valdivian’s Health Division when I got out, but got stuck in customer service instead. At least I’m putting it to use again.’

‘Sounds tough,’ Eddie says as you press another cotton pad soaked in antiseptic into his arm, trying to pretend like it doesn’t affect him. ‘Taking care of so many people, and doing even more of it here.’

‘It really was. And is.’ Even still, a small smile appears on your face. ‘But maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to get back into it one day.’

With that, you give one generous dab to the bruise, and sit back. ‘These should heal soon enough, I think. Although you need to let that hand heal before you even think about picking up a screwdriver again.’

‘Thank you so much for curing him, darling,’ Volt says, adding teasingly, ‘Shouldn’t you kiss it to make it feel better?’

You roll your eyes, but relent, pressing a quick kiss to the bruise. ‘How’s that, Eddie - does it soothe?’ 

‘It sure does.’ Eddie gives you a grateful smile - one you know is not won easily. ‘Thanks.’

‘Excellent!’ You hop off the bar seat, grabbing your kit. ‘I’d better go - the Hanks have their wing suits on today and it never hurts to be on standby just in case. I’ll see you tonight for the live show.’

‘And we can’t wait for you to come back,’ Volt replies, giving you a kiss of his own to the back of your hand. ‘See you tonight.’

As you exit, he turns to Eddie, looking at the latter’s hand. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light, but already it looks as if it’s faded from an angry red to a sullen purple, softening with your touch.

‘The live wire certainly cares a lot for everyone, doesn’t she?’

‘Yeah. She’s a keeper.’

a/n: apologies as i’m on mobile so this may not have formatted super well - will fix when i can! also this means they get double the tags whee

[carbon-dating-everything]

hm. au where once a dateable is realized and leaves the house, the player forgets about them? is there potential there?

[carbon-dating-everything]

just curious-- would you consider writing for jean loo? i wanted to ask because i know not everyone likes him ajsgjsgaj

hi!! i'd be willing to write for jean loo right now, yeah :DD as long as it's not like an openly nsfw request (or bigoted etc) anything's fair game, so feel free to send something in!!

although he's not one of my absolute favorites, i really appreciate how he has a genuine thought process behind his crapping (note: cool rapping), like syllabic structure, etc! that's something i'd be interested in exploring sometime :))

[carbon-dating-everything]

the bored game board game l parker bradley x reader

pairing: parker bradley x gender neutral reader

summary: parker has one final game for you before the dice roll - a game that consists solely of asking each other questions until one of you quits out of boredom. he's confident that you won't be able to best him this time... but you're one determined player.

content warnings: suggestive (you kiss and it gets heated)

word count: 2.6 k

a/n: this is by leaps and bounds the longest thing i've written so far, and it started as a creative exercise in seeing how much i could get just through questions! call it a sort of 'one week of writing x readers' special lol. i hope you enjoy this :))

For the past three days, you’ve sought to gain Parker Bradley’s affection by playing his games according to his Rules. Yes, some might call it tedious. Some might even call it unfair - what kind of love route requires you to utilize strategy just so they might have only a better shot at winning the man’s heart?

But you - you’re different. You may not be a stickler for the rules like he is, but god damn if you don’t love a good challenge, no matter how impossible the odds. And if these odds can be tilted by any means necessary, then hell if you won’t try your best to best him!

Though you've resisted the temptation to cheat at every opportunity, you admit that you have given him some trouble - you recall stripping down at Sandyland, and blindfolding yourselves during chess, each of which provoked a deliciously entertaining reaction from him. But he seems to not have taken those as cheating, given that you managed to abide by the rules of the game anyway.

After your fierce round of Cream Capitalist - a narrow victory you’d assured by, you think, being fortunate enough to have picked France instead of England and staunchly avoided the Carl card - you had thought this would be the end of the game, but it seems that Parker had one more in store.

No matter. You’d get through this one, no matter what it took.

So it is that you find yourself for the fourth day in a row sitting down on the attic floor, facing Parker. The multicolored-haired man seems to have been eagerly waiting for your arrival, fingers drumming in a harried rhythm across the floorboards as you had approached.

The game is already set up in front of you. To your surprise, this time the board is… relatively minimal, if you’re being honest. Indeed, it seems to be deliberately crafted to appear as inoffensive as possible: it’s colored only in various shades of tan and brown, blending with the floor. Frankly, it looks dull, out of place against the eccentricities - it’s almost as if you’re not meant to use it at all.

‘Welcome - to the Bored Game!’ Parker sings out at you as you make yourself comfortable. ‘Are you ready to play?’

‘Yeah, I guess this is a board game.’

He waggles a finger at you in correction. ‘No no no. Bored Game. As in the state of being bored. It’s a Bored Game board game. It’s a pun!’

You blink. ‘…Oh. Okay, so what are the rules?’

‘That’s one of them right there! You’re a quick learner.’

‘One of the rules is asking what the rules are?’

‘No, asking!’ As you stare at him, nonplussed, Parker holds the box aloft, turning it around to you like a prized work of art - it’s no less interesting than the board. ‘The Bored Game is all about asking each other questions, and only questions. No other kind of sentence allowed. We take turns, and whenever one of us starts getting tired, the other will ask them "Are you bored yet?". If the person responds with "I’m bored" - signifying their willingness to accept defeat - then the game ends.’

He curls his hands into fists. ‘In other words, you either win - or you lose! And no one’s made me lose yet.’

‘That seems simple enough to me. I thought you loved overly complicated games?’

He grins at you deviously. ‘Ah, but despite there only being two rules, this is one of the most fiendishly complex games of all! For you see, it’s not about how well you can play, but how long you can hold out for. It’s a game of endurance as well as grammatical skills.’

He points his finger at you, teeth bared. ‘And your distractions won’t work on me this time, so good fucking luck, buddy.’

‘You mean the last time when I-‘

He slams his palms on floor in front of him. ‘NO MORE SEXY TRICKS! Only questions. I’d like to see you flirt while you’re trying - and miserably failing - desperately to twist a pickup line finisher into something that doesn’t make you sound insecure.’

Although he says it as aggressively as he can muster, you can detect the way his voice wavers just slightly - the way it sounds less confident on the words "sexy" and "flirt." Interesting.

‘Whatever you say….’ You narrow your eyes, remembering a party game you used to play in middle school. ‘You know, this sounds an awful lot like Questions Only.’

‘No it’s a trademarked and officially licensed game called the Bored Game because that’s what it says on the Board. Game. Box. Do you want to play or not?’

And because you’ve never been one to turn down a challenge, and you’re certainly not letting Parker get the best of you now - not when you’ve succeeded in all three challenges so far - you think to yourself, hell, what’s another one? ‘Bring it, Bradley.’

‘Excellent!’ He crosses his legs, brings his hands up to his face as if scheming, and waits.

You’re not sure what to do. He stares at you unsettlingly - you’re reminded of a nature documentary you saw where a cat stalks its prey before catching it.

Eventually, you decide to break the tension so he’ll stop it. ‘…So, do I start, or…?’

His eyes light up with mischievous glee - you’ve clearly fallen into his opening trap. ‘Did you think we hadn’t already started?’

Oh boy, this is about to be long. You sigh, adjust yourself comfortably, and prepare yourself for what’ll be an endless series of you slingshotting questions with no answers. —— It’s been two hours of playing this infernal game and you swear your eyes are about to slam shut every other second. Your head threatens to fall to the ground like a bowling ball, both your legs are pins and needles, and you’ve fully given up in attempting proper posture, slouching as you try to come up with something to say yet again. It doesn’t help you that there’s literally nothing to do in the game besides ask questions - you’ve exhausted all possible topics of conversation by this point and, short of asking what the weather’s like, you're straining to come up with a coherent sentence, much less twist it into a question.

Parker himself isn’t nearly as smug as he was two hours ago - he’s clearly not used to someone holding out this long against him, and he’s sweating, brows furrowed in concentration as his brain works to conjure up a rebuttal to yours. But every time he even looks close to closing his eyes, you’ll try to catch him out with an "Are you bored yet?" and immediately, his eyes will fly open and he’ll hit you back with another "Wouldn’t you love if that was the case?"

You’re sure he still has more energy than you and determination out of the love of the game, but you have the power of love of love, damn it, and that’s worth persevering through it even if it takes you all night.

Even so, you really hope it doesn’t. ‘Isn’t there some way that we can just end this game in a draw?’

Parker’s eyes widen in outrage. ‘Do you want me to taint my streak of victories by only accepting a half-win?’

‘Wouldn’t it just make things easier, so that we can both go to sleep already?’

‘Isn’t it bold of you to assume I sleep at all?’

‘Do you?’ ‘HA!’ He laughs manically, although it seems to be slightly more hysterical - more forced - than it usually is. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

With that, it’s your turn yet again, and you mull your options over. Parker’s right - any of the smooth talker lines you’d learned from Dante haven’t worked, and have just made you seem as if you don’t know what you’re doing. You contemplate just giving up and throwing in the towel, because literally anything would be better than just staring.

Suddenly you have an idea. A wonderful, brilliant idea, and one that enables you to pull a brilliant excuse to fluster him again. You can’t believe you didn’t think of it sooner.

Your lips curl into a smile. Parker seems to take your idea as a sign of renewed determination, and he seems to harden with resolve yet again, sitting up and arching a brow at you. You hum as if still thinking, looking at him questioningly.

‘Parker, is anything fair game here?’

His eyes flick up and down your face as if sensing the shit you’re about to pull. ‘What would you presume wouldn’t be allowed?’

‘Well, anything’s fine as long as it’s in the form of a question, right?’

‘Isn’t that what I said before we started this game?’

Confirmation secured. Here it goes, then - your ace card, putting all your chips on the table.

‘Can I kiss you?’

Silence. Absolute silence, settling in heavy like the dust around the attic, and charged with the weight of what you’ve just said. Parker starts, hands jolting up and eyes comically widening - a blush blooms on his cheeks, scarlet against his fair skin.

‘What?’

Damn. You thought that would have gotten him to break out of question mode - yell at you again or something - but instead it’s your turn again. It’s time to escalate this a notch.

There are only a few inches between the two of you. Slowly - slowly - you bridge that gap and reach for his wrist, grasping it in your hand. Parker’s flush reaches his ears in record time, and he gasps, the sound choking off in his throat - seeming so unlike the manic madman from just a few questions ago.

Delicately, with all the precision of a bomb defuser knowing that any wrong move could make it all blow up, you ask, ‘Do you - Parker Bradley - want me to kiss you?’

He sputters. ‘This is another one of your attempts to win, isn’t it - do you honestly think it’s going to work on me this time?’

You lightly squeeze your hand, and he shudders. ‘I don’t know, you tell me - will it?’

At this, Parker looks away, his eyes darting wildly around the room at anything else but you. He’s sweating bullets now, and you can see the twitch in his jaw as he bites his lip, feel his trembling hand in yours, as he tries to compose himself, remembering to focus on the game.

Finally, he nods once, staring off to the left, and then looking back hesitatingly as you proceed to go no further. Your hand has not moved from its place, and you haven’t said a word - why would you when it’s not your turn to speak yet?

‘Are you just going to keep looking at me like that?’ His voice cracks several octaves.

’Are you actually sure about this?’ you ask him quietly. ‘You know that I’d stop if you wanted me to, right?’

‘You already know what I want, so why don’t you just - y’know?’

‘I need to hear it from you,’ you murmur, ‘don’t I?’

It takes him a little to formulate his answer into a question, but eventually he does, in a voice that is unlike the overzealous front he presents to you normally. ‘C-can you? Please?’

When your lips meet his, lingering there tentatively - waiting for a signal to continue - he gasps, and there it is, that shy side of him that you’ve been able to glimpse twice before. His hands drift up to your shoulders, sweaty palms coming to rest around your neck, and you let the hand on his wrist skirt lightly up, tangling in his holed jacket and digging its fingers into them, bracing as you pull him closer.

You bring your other hand up to his hair, letting it rustle in his hair - it really is made out of play money, you note, and you tug experimentally at a lock of it. He jolts at the feeling, his breath hitching, and the tiles in his shirt fall flat, letting out soft clacks! at the sound as if to accentuate the rush. You chase his reaction, doing it again, and he lets nondescript, choked-off syllables tumble out of his mouth to yours - you think for a moment of teasing him that they’re not in the form of a question, but toss out the thought in favor of eliciting more of the noises.

It’s deeply intimate; it’s a lot, it’s too much, and you love it - and you can feel all too well that Parker does too.

——

When you feel like the kiss has run its course, you draw back, observing your handiwork. There are indents in your fingers from where you gripped Parker’s vest, and you feel dazed, adrenaline and desire coursing through you in equal measure. Parker looks no better: his pawn hat is askew, his hair is mussed and wrinkled, and his face is still flushed red as a tomato.

Neither of you says a word for a bit as you try to figure out who spoke last, ending in you remembering that it’s your turn and searching for something to say.

‘…So?’

Parker’s voice is breathy, unsteady. ‘Um, now - now what?’

‘Depends,’ you tease, leaning back and feeling the splintery boards underneath your fingers, so unlike the heat of the moment you were just in. 'Are you bored yet?’

‘Yeah.’ He swallows. ‘Yeah, I’m bored. You win.’

‘Wait - actually?’ You’re nearly stunned into silence - as clever as you think you were in gaining the advantage, you’re shocked it actually worked. ‘You don’t really have to give it to me if you feel like that counted as cheating, Parker. I’d rather have won it fairly from you.’

‘No, you did win it fairly - just like the other two times. You played by the rules, even if you did manage to shake me, Parker, uh, Parker "Unshakeable" Bradley!’ He coughs once, then another time forcefully as if to push the eccentricity back in, and gives you a wobbly smile. ‘That’s, ah, one victory for you - I’ll add it to the dice roll. Come see me tomorrow for our relationship’s ultimate roll!¨

‘If you’re sure…’ You look at him, concerned despite your joy at your recent win. ‘You don’t want me to stay longer or anything?’

‘No!’ he yelps. ‘No, I need - I need time. Time to recover from the loss of my winning streak.’ And he looks suddenly sad, his face falling slightly. ‘And to prepare for any possible outcome.’

You think of saying more, but the look on Parker’s face tells you that leaving would spare him a lot of further embarrassment, and you get to your feet unsteadily. ‘Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Dusting yourself off, you head for the attic doorway, and pause.

‘For the record - I’ve wanted to do that for a while. And I’d be up for that again and more, even if I end up on your bad side. So - even though I’m gunning for love - I’m looking forward to tomorrow no matter what happens.’

And with that, you smile. ‘See you tomorrow, Parker.’

He’s silent as you leave, although you catch a glimpse of his face as you descend the attic stairs; he’s staring down at the Bored Game board, cheeks still flushed and hair still crumpled with the marks you'd left behind. But, more than that, he looks contemplative - as if he doesn’t want this to end.

——

(The dice ends up on Love on the final day, because why wouldn’t it? And as Parker hugs a somewhat reluctant Chance in ecstasy, you don’t miss the way he looks at you - despite your relationship status officially being determined today, you know that yesterday’s events impacted him much more than he could have thought. You think that you might be seeing a rematch of the Bored Game very soon, and see just how long you can outlast each other this time.)

a/n: parker is a freak and i love him for it. but boy do i also love a flustered man if you got this far, thanks so much for reading!! ^^

[carbon-dating-everything]

hi! could you write realized!hoove x reader where they go on an astronomy themed date? (yk based from his ending)

hi!!!! tysm for your request - i admit that i'm slightly less familiar with hoove's love route, but this was really fun to write as i wanted to develop an idea as to why he might have chosen space in the first place and i tried adding more descriptory material to the scenario :)) i hope you enjoy it!!

the observatory

pairing: henry hoove x gender neutral reader

content warnings: spoilers for hoove's Realized route (obviously), lightly suggestive at the end

word count: 1.5 k

Normally, when you stargaze with Hoove, it tends to be somewhere local - your backyard or a nearby hill, for example. You order pizza, spread out a picnic blanket, and have a wonderful time staring up at the sky.

This time is different, though. Hoove had invited you to stargaze a couple hours away from your home, far away from the major center of the population, stating he wanted to ‘show you something cool,’ and sounding as happy as he’d been when you first Realized him. You had eagerly accepted - who wouldn’t want to be shown something cool from the country’s (and your) hottest new cosmologist? - and had marked your calendar for when you were next free.

It’s sunset when you finally arrive, stepping out of your car with your belongings and gazing around at your surroundings. You’re not quite sure what to make of it all, honestly. What is there other than a vast plane of dry grass and sand? At first you don’t think this is the right location, and are about to reach for your phone - maybe you mistyped the coordinates somehow - when you hear a faint noise and crane your neck upwards to spot Hoove waving at you, a small dot on the top of the hill with some kind of building behind him. You wave back, windmilling your arms to signify you’ve seen him, and begin what appears to be a long and arduous ascent.

——

It takes ten minutes to get to the summit, and you’re panting by the end of it, hands on your knees. Who knew staying in your house for months on end and never walking outside would affect you physically in any way?

Hoove grins and jogs over as you stagger the final few steps. ‘Hey, you made it!’ ‘This - is - really high up,’ you wheeze, looking down at how far you’d come. He chuckles sympathetically. ‘Yeah, I get that. Sorry for making you walk up so high - when we’re up here, the Earth’s atmosphere is thinner, so there’s better views.’ ’No - problem,’ you gasp, giving him a thumbs up from where you’re hunched over. Hoove pats you on the back. ‘Well, no matter how much time it took, you’ve used just enough of it. The sun’s setting, which is perfect timing for us to set up.’ When you’re finished being short of breath, he takes you by the hand and walks over to the entrance of the building you’d earlier spotted. It’s an observatory, you realize - a building made up of various box-like structures topped by domes. Though it’s subtle, you notice that there are red and black accents on the doors, and that several of the connecting pathways are ribbed - just like a certain someone’s former outfit. ‘Is this… yours?’ You can hear the pride in his voice when he speaks. ‘It’s nice, right?’ ‘It’s great. Very you!’ ‘Haha, I’m glad you think so.’ He squeezes your hand and leads you towards the entrance of the building. ‘Come on, let me show you around!’ —— The inside of the observatory is no less impressive than the outside: it’s circular and smooth, the walls supporting a huge dome of glass with rectangular panels that allows you to see the reddening sky above. In the center of it all is a massive reflecting telescope, and it stands poised to attention with its lens pointed up, and the other at you - ready to show you anything you’d like. You ooh and ahh reverently, and you can see Hoove’s smile widening as he shows you around. The sun is still dipping low into the horizon, so you and him decide to catch up for a while. As you talk, you settle into your familiar dynamic with him, leaning in and hugging his torso as you two lie on a picnic blanket he’d brought, eating snacks, trading stories, and quizzing each other on your knowledge of the sports teams you’d gotten into since the Hankees. Time passes in a flash. The sky slowly fades to black above you, and the stars - ‘There are so many stars here!’ you gasp, jolting up and staring above at the white dots that have suddenly appeared above you you. ‘There’s less light pollution here! That’s why we’re so far out - you get a really clear view of the skies this way.’ ‘Does that mean the stars’ll have more detail?’ ‘Yeah! Wanna check out the planets?’ He gets up, waving you over excitedly to the telescope. ‘We should have a great view of Venus right now.’ You peer inside - and yes, Venus is there, caramel-colored and suddenly massive in your eyes. You didn’t think it could be any more beautiful than it already is, but now that you can see each detail so clearly, you feel like you’re once again reminded of the majesty of the universe as you step back and wonder how it could possibly be mistaken for anything else. ‘That’s amazing.’ ‘I know, right?’ He takes a look through the telescope himself, whistling once he looks back up. ‘That’s a beauty. Definitely a good night for this.’ You spend some more time looking at the stars, shifting the telescope around to marvel at all the different kinds of stars the sky has to offer on this night.

——

Eventually, you fall back onto the picnic blanket, simply gazing at them for a while. A question forms in your mind. ‘How did you manage to get your own observatory, anyway?’ ‘Well, since I got some attention a while back -' ‘Understatement of the century, Hoove. You’re literally famous.’ He chuckles. ‘Well, I do have all the time I need now, I guess. I think there’s a good chance I’m nominated for a Known Bell Prize in the future. Not that I want to jinx it, of course.’ ‘Oh, no, you should definitely flaunt it, my man. Show the world what you’re capable of.’ ‘Well, if you put it that way…’ He laughs. ‘Honestly, I really wanted to try having a place where I could stargaze full-time whenever I need a break.’ You hum appreciatively, turning over another thought in your mind. ‘Speaking of that, I don’t really know if I’ve ever asked you, Hoove. Why did you end up going into astronomy?’ ‘Like what? Space?’ You nod. ‘Well, think of it like fulfilling my true purpose - the vacuum of space to replace the space in my vacuum.’ You snicker and gently bat at his shoulder. ‘Shut up. Seriously, though. Is there something more than that?’ At this, he pauses, and there’s a moment before he replies, voice wistful. ‘Its vastness… it’s just so alive, you know? It’s alive, and always there - something that we gaze into every single night, and we almost always take it for granted. We’re too wrapped up in our own stresses to see what’s in front of us, until it’s too late and we break. I have my own passions, obviously, but I was also pretty held back by what I couldn’t let go of, which just made everything worse for me.’ He looks at you, propping himself up on his shoulders. ‘And then… you helped me see that you can still hold onto things while figuring out what actually mattered. And that let me have more time for myself. Time to better do my job, but also time to enjoy what I like outside of it. When I started reading about space, and the event horizon, it reminded me there’s still so much out there that I could find to treasure the same - whole new worlds in which I can decide what can fill up my space.’ Realizing that he’s talked for a while without interruption and that you’ve been staring at him without saying anything, he shifts a little. ‘Well, that’s what I think, anyway. Does that make sense?’ You sit up and press your hands to his face, leaning in, your eyes shining. ‘I think it’s wonderful.’ When he kisses you, it’s slow and steady, his lips warm against yours - he’s been waiting for this moment all night, you can tell. His hand grips your waist, dipping under the fabric of your shirt, and you close your eyes, savoring his touch as you breathe in each other’s air again, and again, and again. When you finally break apart, you collapse together on the picnic blanket and admire the sight above you once again - the vast expanse of stars that shine, each one promising a new discovery to be made. You couldn’t be happier in this scenario. But there’s one last thing you need to officially complete your date. ‘Hoove.’ ‘Hm?’ You tap your finger to your lips as if in thought. ‘Can we still order pizza here? I forgot to bring some over.’ He laughs, interlacing his fingers in yours. ‘Any kind you like, babe.’

a/n: oh to be taken on a space date...

[carbon-dating-everything]

hmm i've been thinking about making a set of sprites for the player (or You) for my layouts if a scenario calls for it... i'm thinking of the classic 4 poses with different expressions / variations, and they'd be free to use with credit! what do you all think?

(to clarify, it'd be how the player's represented in game - dark blob with the expressions drawn in white)

[carbon-dating-everything]

hinits that Timothy requestor hehe, another amaxing fic! ty for it :3 i was also super confused on why amir of all dateables was there and then i saw ur note at the end and giggled lols, good catch!! i didnt even intend it in that way but it was a super nice surprise! ☀️

glad you enjoyed!!! i couldn't really resist haha - since timothy can also be found on the dresser next to your bed, i thought it'd be an interesting matchup to do :3

[carbon-dating-everything]

MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHA TIS ME AGAIN! FREDDY ANON!!! >:3 Could you please write some hcs for Freddy x Business partner! Reader? Like they help him run his ice scream shop? Cuz I hc that while he's great with food and running a restaurant he kinda sucks at running it as a business so they help crack down on prices and business ventures and whatnot ^^

- Freddy anon

why hello again, freddy anon!!!! lovely to see you ^v^ i hope you enjoy this!! was fun coming up with what i hope are profitable ideas haha

ensure you're insured

pairing: freddy yeti x gender neutral reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

content warnings: none

word count: 888

The Yummy Yeti is certainly yummy - there’s no doubt about that. It’s nostalgic to its core, and you always feel welcomed when you step in, the cold air washing delightfully over your face as you prepare for a sweet treat.

Mitchell’s review certainly says as much; his 5-star rating has had dateables flocking to the fridge from opening until closing hours.

Freddy himself is a big part of why everyone loves it. Not only is he great at serving food, he’s so personable - through introducing each of the menu items, enthusiastic no matter what you pick, he makes everyone feel right at home. No one has any complaints in that department.

That being said, it’s a little… lacking in the actual business side of things.

You’re quick to notice this when he runs out of ingredients completely one day and has to close temporarily until enough ice is restocked to let him whip up a new batch of ice cream. Another time, the house’s power goes out and his parlor is the one most affected, the menu leaking everywhere and turning into a soupy mess.

It begins to get a little troubling, not least because it’s eating into your own proper finances. Your deliveryman has started to look a little concerned lately with how much ice cream you’ve been ordering.

You bring Monique in to give Freddie a crash course on financial planning and projected revenue but, surprisingly, you end up understanding much more of it than he does.

And that’s when an idea comes to you - what if you were to be his business partner? You never thought that you had a particularly good business acumen, but in comparison to him you think you’ve got a significantly better shot at it, at least.

So a deal is struck between the two of you: he can provide the goods, and you can conduct the behind-the-scenes!

‘If you want to actually run this in the long term, we need to have a fail-safe for if something goes wrong - like if the ice melts and your menu goes all over the place. Have you gotten insured yet?’ ‘Eh, I’m not totally sure of what insurance I need to get. Or… how exactly insurance works.’ You stare at him. ‘Freddy.’ ‘Well, can you blame me? I’m a fridge, cool kid.’

First things first, you decide to crack down on the Yummy Yeti’s pricing. Freddy lets customers treat themselves to whatever you like, an idea that’s certainly charitable, but you also actually need to make a profit from it in order to survive as a business.

So you set about to work actually giving prices to each one of the flavors and to the Every-Day-Is-Sundae, highlighting them alongside the menu. Individual scoops aren’t expensive at all, but they’ll let you stay in good shape.

Because he still wants to let people sample all the flavors they want, you come up with the idea to have a buffet-style option added to the choice of course: for a specific price, guests can treat themselves to whatever flavor they like for their meal!

You figure that you could involve other business ventures into the mix, as well, and decide to involve some other food-oriented dateables. Mitchell, Kopi, and Beverly are three such collaborators and provide him not only with interesting ingredients and flavor combo, but with context of their own around their pairings, so Freddy can present them with all the more enthusiasm.

You even get involved in graphic design for a short while, getting tips from Phoenicia on how to make the marketing for the place a little more eye-catching. You decide to lean into the quirky, janky aesthetic of the parlor by adding fridge magnets that represent dateables as a sign of their stamp of approval, as well as a little whiteboard to see what’s next in store - the latter suggestion enables the Yummy Yeti’s stock to be seen by all in the kitchen, and they spread the word to even the most standoffish of folk.

In a couple weeks, you manage to exceed your wildest expectations - you’re beginning to make some serious profit! It’s safe to say that business is booming. (Sadly, it’s not much profit for yourself, but you’re the breadwinner of the pair anyway since you’ve got a Hashtag Real Job so it’s not like you mind all that much).

Through it all, you think that you’re lucky to have Freddy as a partner, and you hope that you’ll be able to see him even when he’s Realized. You’ll miss working together, you know - and more than that, you’ll miss being able to open the fridge to an echo of Freddy’s laughter even without your Dateviators on.

But you’re feeling peckish now, and you're craving something icy. You stow away the thought for later, getting up to visit the parlor once more and have a trademark sundae - just another one of the many delightful ways you pass your time within the house.

(On some days, you can’t help but give yourself a little discount on the ice cream. Freddy winks at you and says he’ll turn a blind eye.)

a/n: i'm with freddy in that i know nothing about how to run a business

[carbon-dating-everything]

I'm the anon who asked for the Chance cuddles and?? HELLO?? THEY WERE SO CUTE OUGH,,, As someone who also fidgets with their hands, the part where he runs his hand over your knuckles was so GOOD, TYSM FOR THE FOOD! I especially loved the pillow fort, I'm a huge fan of soft things and was pleasantly surprised by the reader's cozy little fort! You made the whole thing so soft and intimate too?? Thank you again for your hard work! I hope it'll be okay if I maybe put in another request soon, I absolutely ADORE your writing and you're one of my favorite DE x Reader creators!!

- 💤

АААНННН I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT!!! i had a lot of fun writing it ^o^ thank you for letting me create this scenario for you!! i do love soft intimacy hehe

and i'm floored that i count as one of your favorites already?? a week ago i'd never written any x readers of my own, so hearing you say that is so incredibly touching!!!

feel free to send in your next request anytime!! i look forward to it ^^ <3

[carbon-dating-everything]

wait im back :3 loved the holly piece ty!!!! i just thought of this while watching someone's play though but-

post-love route Timothy x gn reader ,specifically towards the beginning of their relationship. maybe on a cute date! i had in mind maybe something ti do with cleaning his watches! and then maybe we put one down a bit to hard or do something wrong and it breaks :( something unable to be fixed. I imagine him in the moment being very upset and even getting angry at reader. Sending them away, and for a couple days not speaking to reader– to absorbed in trying to fix his beloved watch.

Then one day when reader visits him he has a very apologetic look on his face. saying hes done some reflection and is very sorry!! he isnt used to having someone. (perhaps an other object pointed out that he made reader upset so thats what caused the reflection)

yeah thats it idk where this was going but i thogubt it was cute hehdbx, again thanks for the holly work!!! it was super cute :3 (may i add that i LOVE ur formatting and layout style uggghh) ☀️

welcome back, and i'm glad you liked the holly piece!!! i love the amount of thought you’ve put into this prompt - i hope you enjoy this :))

(and thank you for the compliments on both the work and on my formatting / layout style!! it’s really fun making these for the characters :DDD)

asynchronous

pairings: timothy timepiece x gender neutral reader, timothy and amir

content warnings: angst (reconciliation at the end)

word count: 1.4 k

It’s as if time slows to a standstill as the pocket watch slips out of your grasp.

Everything had been going well this morning - ‘capital’, as Timothy would say. You had arrived for a scheduled date at nine, and had planned to care for his timepieces - a necessary routine of his day-to-day upkeep, and one that you’ve been following along ever since you managed to snag him as a partner.

Timothy had explained to you that all the watches you were caring for were hand-wound, different than quartz as they required constant maintenance and turning of the crown in order to function Though technological progress had allowed for self-winding watches (‘and,’ he had reluctantly added, ‘smartwatches’), the mechanical watches meant the world to him, which is why he had amassed so many. You had praised his devotion, touched that you could share this moment together. It was a perfect plan for a perfectly planned date.

At least, that was what you had thought.

You’re wiping down the brass exterior of the pocketwatch with a microfiber cloth, just like you had been taught, when something just happens. You’re not able to tell exactly when you lose your concentration, but in the next moment the watch is teetering on your palm and tips over the edge.

You try to catch it, but are nowhere near fast enough, powerless to watch as it topples out of your reach, hits the ground, and splinters. The sound is delicate, like ice, but it is nonetheless deafening in your ears. You gasp in shock.

In front of you, Timothy stiffens, his ears flattening back against his head. He whips around and screams as he sees one of his beloved timepieces on the floor, rushing over and kneeling to examine the damage done; it lies in a dozen pieces, shattered in what no amount of tinkering or time will ever fix.

When he finally turns to you, his face is pale and his hands are trembling. His lips press together in a thin line, but his eyes give away how he feels - they are blazing with rage, his irises narrowed to slits.

‘I think you should leave,’ he says, voice clipped, barely controlled.

You stumble, take a step forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. ‘Timothy, I’m so sorry, it slipped out of my hands and it fell. I didn’t mean to -‘

‘Just LEAVE,’ he spits at you suddenly, the tension breaking, his shoulders hiking as his hands curl into claws, inches away from sinking into you. ‘Go anywhere but here.’ He turns away from you, beginning to sweep up the mechanisms and the glass, as if he still believes - or desperately wants to believe - that it can be fixed somehow.

So you leave. What other choice do you have? You have a couple more charges on the Dateviators left that day, but elect not to use them, staring numbly out the window as you wonder how things could have gone so wrong.

Questions race through your mind: how did it come to this, how do you fix this, and - most prominently - how could you betray his trust?

—— ‘Oh, that is the look of someone who has deeply messed up.’

Timothy flinches, snapping his head around to face Amir; the silver-clad man is staring daggers at him, scowling from where they stand in the bedroom.

‘I saw them today. They looked like they had been crying, you know? They did not get enough sleep last night, and it has pushed down their self-confidence even more than they usually do. What in god’s name did you do to them?’

Timothy scoffs, trying to project bravado while avoiding the hurt expression he can see in every inch of Amir’s clothing. ‘They broke the pocketwatch, not I. They have not apologized even once - they have been staying away from me.’

‘You are the one who told them to leave. Did it not even occur to you to check if they were hurt? Did you think about them at all?’

‘I-‘ Timothy’s expression sags, contemplating this. You’ve been avoiding him lately, yes, but you still look at him without the glasses on, and the look on your face each time you did so - expression not joyful as it normally is, but pained - made him ache. You’ve been giving him time in an attempt to make up for what you cost him, something you should not have to put yourself through for at all.

‘You’re right,’ he whispers, ears drooping. ‘It’s my fault.’

‘Na baabaa.’ Amir narrows his eyes even further, but his expression is one of firmness rather than mockery, betraying real concern in his gaze. ‘You are the one who needs to apologize.’

‘But - goodness, Amir, what would I even say? How would I be able to make up for such a wrongdoing?’

Amir directs Timothy to sit and stare at him and the mirror at once, a mind-melting conceptualization that forces him to look at nothing but what is directly in front of him - someone searching for answers to express his faults.

‘Look in the mirror. Face yourself. What do you think you should say?’ —— Inevitably, you go back to talk to Timothy. You can’t really afford not to - even though you try to keep yourself busy, from force of habit, you check the clock every day and it only serves as another reminder of him each time you gaze at the hands, each tick its own little reprimand. If nothing else, you need to talk to him for peace of mind - whether he accepts you back or rejects you is for you to find out.

You find him in the living room, gazing over his collection as usual, and approach, padding softly over the floorboards. His ears prick at your presence, but he does not turn around - his hands seemingly busy themselves with their work, although they seem to ghost over the mechanisms of the watches as if he is waiting for you to speak.

‘Hi, Timothy,’ you mumble.

It is then that he turns, shifting uncomfortably from where he sits. ‘Good morning.’

A stretch of time passes between you both. Timothy seems to be deliberating what to say, eyes darting around the room. Finally, he speaks hesitatingly: ‘Are you… were you hurt?’

‘No, I wasn’t,’ you say. It’s the truth, after all, even though you both know that there’s more that goes unsaid in that sentence.

‘I’m relieved.’ His face twists once again, mouth working, as if he were struggling to get something out, the words stuck in his throat. You wait for him to speak anew, your expression carefully blank.

‘I’ve done some… reflecting… lately,’ he finally manages, his words labored. ‘I am not accustomed to a life with another person, and I am someone who can be rather… hesitant to trust in others. When the watch fell, I reacted as if it were the only significant thing in my life, and I neglected you, choosing to try and fix something that could not be saved instead of asking if you needed fixing yourself.’

‘It hurt my feelings,’ you say, quietly.

‘Yes.’ He looks down in shame. ‘I want you to know that I am truly, deeply sorry. I have told you that my heart beat in time with you, and I have cherished it - but over the past few days, I have felt mine slip out of rhythm with yours. And, if you’ll allow me, I would like to sync it again by making up for my mistake in any way I can.’

He looks at you, then, eyes shining with guilt. ‘Will you still accept me? Accept my love?’

You move to him and embrace him around the middle. His breath hitches, reflexively raising his arms, before lowering them to circle yours in kind, and you hug, his tail twining around your leg, his whiskers brushing your neck.

‘I’m sorry again about the pocketwatch,’ you murmur. ‘I really didn’t mean to - I know how much these mean to you.’

‘It’s alright,’ he responds, his voice a grateful whisper, and he clutches you tighter. ‘I’m more relieved you’re not hurt - and you matter more to me than my watches; there’s only one of you, after all. Thank you for having me back.’

You stand there for an indeterminate amount of time - minutes, hours, you're not sure. In this moment, you feel like you have all the time in the world.

a/n: since you mention timothy did some reflecting… the perfect character was right there lmao

farsi word (apologies if i’ve used it incorrectly): na baabaa = no, really? / no shit (sarcastically).

[carbon-dating-everything]

masterlist

there are enough fics now that i can make a small masterlist!!! woah!!

individual characters

cam

oscar the grouch

chance

citadel of comfort

eddie and volt

supplying aid to the power supply

freddy yeti

chillin' the stress

ensure you're insured

henry hoove

the observatory

holly

rest day, sugar plum

jerry

the human wing

fruit leather

parker bradley

the bored game board game

timothy timepiece

asynchronous

multiple characters

drink me in; steal my air (daisuke, cabrizzio)

[carbon-dating-everything]

fruit leather l jerry x reader

pairing: jerry x gender neutral reader

summary: you and jerry are in the Junk Drawer. you're struck by a sudden thought - what if you kissed?

content warnings: very very lightly suggestive (?)

word count: 1.2 k

a/n: hrhghhh just thinking of kissing jerry... this is entirely self indulgent, forgive me

Up close, Jerry smells like a mysterious combination of leather, rubber, and artificial fruit from a myriad of scratch’n’sniff stickers of times past; a combination you wouldn’t ordinarily expect to find so appealing, but one that you’ve quickly grown accustomed to nonetheless.

The two of you sit on the floor of the Junk Drawer, surrounded by crafting supplies; you’re folding a number of grocery recipes together into a makeshift flower, while Jerry eagerly fills you in on all the details of the denizens populating the space, always as if seeing a second layer of objects your Dateviators aren’t able to pick up on. You’re practically sandwiched together, knees touching - if you were any closer, you think you’d have to fuse somehow, a mix of flesh and… wood, plastic, paper, and all other sorts of items, you’re sure.

You’re reminded of parties from years past where you played Seven Minutes in Heaven - how the chatter from the others faded as the closet door closed behind you, muffled in between the rows of clothing that enclosed you and the other party goer, and the darkness enveloping you both, signifying every possibility imaginable. Although you had never gone very far with them, the interaction echoes in your mind, and you can’t help but draw a parallel to the scene you now find yourself in.

It’s maddeningly intimate in a way that feels dizzying. You feel the need to say something, at least, lest you miss out on this moment - there’s no better opportunity to do it than now.

Jerry must notice that you’re distracted, because he trails to a stop in the middle of discussing the complex relationship between Pierre and Claude, who sound like they are having another row over their shared fence. ‘Are you alright?’ He fidgets with one of the several pairs of earphones that erupts from in his pockets, winding the cables around his fingers. ‘I don’t mean to disturb you. We can move on, if you want. I know you’ve got quite a lot to do today, after all.’

‘I’ve got plenty of time, don’t worry.’ You pause - there’s not really any unsubtle way to approach this - before slowly continuing, trying to seem nonchalant. ‘I was just thinking - have you ever been kissed before?’

For a moment, you think Jerry’s not heard you properly - his mouth opens without speaking, gapemouthed like a goldfish out of its aquarium. When he does emit a noise, it’s incredulously, incredibly high pitched - the sound of a teakettle about to blow its lid.

‘Me? Why would you ever ask me about that?’

‘I was just curious, is all,’ you respond. Doesn’t Holly deliver you roses each Valdivalentine’s?’

‘Well, although I always appreciate the roses, and keep them in the collection…’ Jerry trails off, searching to find the right words. ‘They’re not romantic material, exactly. I very much doubt that many objects have that kind of affinity for me.’ He chuckles self-deprecatingly, tugging at his shirt collar. ‘And there’s not an awful lot of willing company to be found in here, either, haha. Except for Lorena, who’s sometimes… a little overzealous.’

His eyes shift to meet yours nervously. ‘Why the interest, though?’

No way out of this now. Your question erupts out of your throat before you can think of how to reword it. ‘Well, I was hoping to - if you’re up to it, I mean - kiss you?’

There’s a moment of silence that feels as thick as the dust in the air. Jerry still doesn’t respond - it looks as though his brain might be short-circuiting. You’re in too over your head, you think - what made you so sure you’d be able to talk about this smoothly?

Hesitatingly, you press on. ‘I’ve been thinking about it lately, and I’d really love to. Though we obviously don’t have to, of course,’ you hastily add. ‘I’m happy just being here with you in any case.’

That proposition was so horribly worded, you think, that your Charm Stat must have crawled back into the gutter. Your eyes turn to the paper flower in your hands, pretending to examine it for faults. ‘Sorry, that must be - just forget it,’ you mumble. ‘It’s just a thought I had.’

You’re still kicking yourself when your thoughts are broken by Jerry’s reply.

‘No, I think I’d - I think I would really, really like that. From you, I mean.' His voice cracks a little. ‘Please?’

His method of asking was just as awkward as yours - but who are you to deny such a request?

Slowly but surely, your fingers find the place where his jaw softens, and you tilt his head slightly upwards to fit his lips to yours, pressing them together as delicately as anything.

Jerry kisses like you’re one of his museum pieces, and he’s afraid to hurt you - it’s soft. His breath hitches, and he lingers, not daring to move further. But underneath there’s a sentiment of something more desperate, more eager, and you take that as a cue to deepen the kiss further, cupping his face and parting your lips.

He tastes like he smells, too - combined, it reminds you a bit of fruit leather, in a way. You’re aware of your heartbeat picking up speed - no doubt Jerry’s is jackhammering in his chest, as evidenced by how his fingers run over your arms, scrabbling for anything he can use to bring you closer to him. Once he manages to clutch a fistful of your shirt, he reciprocates in kind, catching your lower lip between his own.

You close your eyes, wanting to savour the moment. And - for that brief moment at least - it’s as if you do melt together, in a way, where nothing exists except for the two of you.

——

It’s not long, but by the time you break apart, still clutching each other, you’re more than slightly out of breath. Jerry’s lips are swollen, his face is beet red, and his eyes are blown wide - his hair is as mussed as ever, but you’re sure you managed to knock a few of the pencils askew here and there.

Guiltily, you think that may have overcompensated in the heat of the moment. But he doesn’t seem to have minded it at all - he breathes out a laugh, unsteady, seeming to sway from where you hold him.

‘Golly,’ he finally manages, stammering. ‘That was - uh, it was sure something, huh? I - I’m -'

You take his hand in his, patiently, and he quiets. Bringing your hands up to his hair, you brush the excess strands out of his face, working out some of its tangles. He hums in appreciation as you work. As a finishing touch, you locate the paper flower on the ground - a little misshapen now, but nonetheless beautiful - and place it in his hair, tucking its ends under one of the stray rubber bands.

‘There,’ you murmur. ‘I’ve finished our newest art piece.’

The smile Jerry gives you - a look full of love, longing, and most of all happiness - warms you for the rest of the day, long after night falls, and you find yourself very much looking forward to seeing him again next time.

a/n: it's really tame compared to basically any other fic out there, but i felt so, so flustered myself when conceptualizing it, hence the question mark? idk ^^;

[carbon-dating-everything]

Could I perhaps ask for some cuddles from Chance? I think it'd be cute if the reader helped him relax after finding him doing some pretty intense campaign planning! Also, he seems like he gives really good hugs. Bonus if he gets flustered about it, heehoo :3

CHANCE YAYYY I LOVE THIS MAN... i hope you don’t mind, but i made this a mix of headcanon and ficlet (putting the first part into practice, hehe)! enjoy :DD

citadel of comfort

pairing: chance x gender neutral reader

content warnings: none

word count: 1.3 k (568 headcanons, 723 ficlet)

Chance tends to be more of a passive snuggler than a thoroughly active one, but this doesn’t mean he’s not affectionate - he’s just usually got his head in the game (the G&G game, that is)!

Your favorite ways to cuddle during the daytime tend to be positions where you can easily move into a cuddle session; ones you particularly enjoy are when one person supports the other, such as you laying your head on his shoulder and draping the rest of your body over his lap, or him resting your head on your lap. You often alternate who supports who. It allows for conversation to be had easily, and is a nice way that you can fit yourselves together - but at the same time, it allows you to show each other vulnerability, a way of saying I’ve got you without words.

At nighttime, a preferred way you like to cuddle is one of you hugging the other halfway down their chest, head tucked into the crook of their arm. It takes a while to fully get him out of Chronicler mode when during this, but it’s not something that’s an ordeal - rather, there’s a gradual shift from him gently tracing the lines of a new map he’s drafted on your skin to simply caressing you.

Location-wise, it can really be anywhere - though the bed is the most obvious option, you’ve often found that you spend just as much time on the couch or the rug, wherever it just feels right (and for days on which it’s needed, both of you appreciate you having the foresight to plan multiple comfortable spaces around the house for conveniency’s sake).

If there’s enough around, I think that Chance would really enjoy having a lot of pillows and blankets to nest in - it makes it feel homey to him, and he likes the feeling of the weight, the same as how he enjoys wearing his cloak. Maybe better yet, a blanket or a pillow fort - not only is it super comfortable and welcoming, it’s a perfect place to have your own little stories to tell in!

He does tend to naturally steal all the blankets away from you, although it’s not like you mind too much - you can always use him as a pillow anytime. Though it makes it fairly warm to cuddle, and Chance himself doesn’t run the coolest, it’s a comforting feeling. (Although you make a note to tell Hector to turn up the AC during the summer months.)

Can talk to you about anything, from outlining his massive campaign plans to simpler stories like Teddy’s. His wide array of voices always makes it entertaining, and it’s sometimes even hard to go to sleep because you’re so invested in what comes next!

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking (and almost certainly it’s because this author fidgets a lot with their hands), but I think a thing he does unconsciously is gravitate towards your hands a lot: interlacing your fingers, running a thumb over your knuckles the same way you’d absentmindedly run your fingers over his edges when in his regular D20 form. It’s a special sort of intimate connection - a way for your everyday affectations to be reciprocated when he can. (You did tease him about it when you realised it felt familiar, and he immediately turned red, the dork that he is.)

Sometimes, during a particularly intense session of G&G, Chance will get really into it. It’s one of the things you love most about him - it’s how you first got together, after all! - but it can take a lot out of him, and you’ve caught him staying up much too late much too many times lately.

This time is one of those; from the doorway, you watch as his glasses glint with passion in the light of the desk lamp, chuckling to himself as he creates another boss enemy or magical item, not registering your presence at all. It’s passionate, and incredibly hot. But you also see the way he’s getting tired in the ways that his shoulders slump and he restarts the same miniature twice, his eyes having unfocused and brushed red paint all over its face instead.

You know there’s no way you’d be able to drag him up to the bed in this state; he’d protest, only to then fall asleep face first onto the desk surface, which would no doubt be more uncomfortable for him.

You’re suddenly struck by an idea and begin going to talk to a few other dateables and assemble your plan. —— ‘Really, I’m fine. I just need five more minutes. There’s just a few more touches I need to make-‘

‘I know, Chance, I know,’ you say lovingly, tugging him along to the living room. ‘Why don’t you just come and see what’s over here?’

He stops in the entryway, as if he can’t believe his eyes. When he turns to you, from the look on his face is the same as when you agreed to play through a campaign with him the first time. ‘You made a pillow fort?’

‘Technically, it’s the official “Citadel of Comfort”, fortified with only the purest grade couch cushions, pillows, and blankets,’ you state with pride. ‘I even gave it a little moat with a drawbridge, although it’s a welcome mat and easily the most uncomfortable bit of it. The rest is better, I promise.’

‘Is all of this for me?’ You nod, and he wavers. ‘Well, I guess I can stay for a little while…’

Giggling, the two of you crawl into the fort and spread yourselves out on the mountain of pillows you placed at the back, assuming a position familiar to both of you: you tucked underneath his arm, him stretched out and weighed down with a mass of blankets around him as if in his own little fortress. You ask him if he wants to tell you what he was working on, and he beams like all the rays of the sun, launching into it immediately with enthusiasm.

You look at him. Under the canopy, the light is dim, and the blanket you’d chosen for it reflects the softness in his expression, his eyes staring upwards as he enthuses about the new challenges he planned for his players in the upcoming adventure. You hum along; it’s always nice to see him in his element, and you know his passion is unfettered by his sleep until he’s able to recount everything. —— Eventually, he drifts into silence, and you can feel a change in the way his touches are farther drawn apart, imprecise; his breath fans over your skin, a mechanism slowed to a halt.

‘You didn’t have to,’ he says at last.

‘I know. I wanted to, though.’ You move your head next to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. ‘You’d do the same for me.’

‘Mm.’ Absentmindedly, he runs his fingers over your knuckles, a gesture it seems like he’s made many times over; it’s strikingly similar to the way you roll his die form between your fingers during your work, a comforting action when you have nothing to do with your hands.

‘You’re doing it again, you know,’ you tease lightly.

He flushes, the blush spreading like wine to the tips of his ears. ‘Am I? I hadn’t noticed,’ he laughs sheepishly. ‘Force of habit, I guess. I’m so used to you doing the same to me, it must have carried over somehow.’

‘I like it, though,’ you say. ‘It’s cute. You’re my lucky die, and I’m yours - isn’t that nice?’

He lifts your arm, presses a kiss to it, and envelops you even tighter in his arms, protecting you. ‘It’s perfect.’

a/n: i played my first actual session of dnd today and i can definitely get the hype - i tried to write this pretty soon after :)) hope you enjoyed!!

[carbon-dating-everything]

YIPPEEEEE LOVED THE SHORT FIC!!!! Freddy is real cool teehee tyvm for writing him expect more from me once I can word the prompte correctly <3<3<3

- Freddy Anon

aaa hello, i'm honored you loved the fic!!! :DDD

i owe you my thanks once again for being the first person who requested from me - fulfilling it was such a new experience!! i look forward to seeing what you request next ^^

[carbon-dating-everything]

hihi!!! can you maybe do a post-love route Holly x male or gn reader! she still overworks herself very often, and i feel this could be a cute lil thing of reader and her cuddling while shes in one of her "long naps". and then her waking up in the arms of her lover :3 overall a really fluffy thing!! i dont have any ideas for the in between stuff so thats up to you! please and thank you!!!! ☀️

hi!!!! :DDD of course - this is a really sweet idea, and i love it a lot!!!! i hope you enjoy!! (note: it ended up being gender neutral, as i didn't write any gender-identifying descriptions for the reader :))

rest day, sugar plum

pairing: holly x gender neutral reader

content warnings: none

word count: 1 k

It’s a rare moment of quiet in the house; though your mornings are usually filled with activities, you've been oddly productive today, which gives you more time to check up on your beloved holiday girl.

This is one of the only times Holly isn’t making a sound. Indeed, it’s one of the only times she isn’t awake; rather, she’s in a deep sleep, sprawled on your bed and entangled in the sheets like lights on the branches of a tree. Although bedecked in her usual attire, it feels as though the various holidays weaved throughout it have themselves decided to rest for a while; the skeleton on her shoulder slumps along with her, and the ornaments in her hair rustle softly, as if leaves in the wind.

She’s been like this for half a day now, you muse. It reminds you vaguely of a bear during hibernation - conserving and replenishing energy in order to last until the next winter. You had remarked to her that, given Groundhog Day, it should have come to her earlier that she might need to take a break every once in a while. Holly had countered with the fact that such a thing didn’t exist in the dateable world, although ‘we did have FoundDog day for a while, I guess? But Mateo got too worried about his inanimals running off for good, so now it’s a name we use for whenever you save a new video of a dog doing a funny trick online, which is often’.

‘You really have a household equivalent for everything, don’t you?’

She had laughed at that.

As if on cue, she shifts in her sleep, hands reaching out loosely away from you as if to grab yours and tell you all about a new flavor of the month. You smile.

Carefully, so as not to disturb her, you approach the bed, sinking down onto it, and swing your legs over the edge so that you lie on your side next to her. Edging closer, you outstretch your arms, loosely wrapping her in them gently so she’s cradled next to your chest. You can feel her snoring quietly as her chest rises and falls.

Wrapping the blankets around you, you nestle the both of you in the bed so that you’re wrapped snugly in, welcoming the sensation how a teapot might readily accept a tea cozy, or a human might a warm wool sweater.

Slowly, the warmth envelops you. Your eyelids begin to droop, and you drift off to sleep. —— As you dream, your mind thinks about Holly.

Life with Holly is truly a joy - each day you’ve spent with her has been unrelentless, cheery wonder, and you’ve been taken from the start with how she greets every one of her friends with a smile (and a rose, or card, or whatever she has in store to deliver). Not only do you feel blessed that the collective operation you’d dubbed “Project-Get-Holly-To-Take-A-Damn-Break” succeeded so fantastically, she’s truly been a gift to you - pun intended in every way and more.

Regardless, she still overworks herself too often at times; as she likes to convince herself, she’s always got to be “on that grind”. Though it doesn’t happen as frequently as it used to, after a while her body will inevitably gives out after one shift too many, and you’ll still find Florence, Betty or Kopi letting you know that she’s taking another one of her long naps.

This time, however, you were the one to catch her as she burnt out, noticing something was wrong when you went to talk to her; the way the pep in her step seemed less… peppy somehow, how she greeted you with a slightly less chipper tone that betrayed distraction, and most of all the sparkle in her eyes - what was normally ever-shining like a Blissmas star - dimmed to dull. You had just enough time to catch her when she staggered and collapsed onto you, easing her onto the bed and tucking her in. After you asked Betty to keep a close watch while you took care of the house for a little while, you had pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before drawing away.

‘I’ll be back soon, sugar plum,’ you whispered to her. ‘Rest well.’ Though she was already dozing, a tired smile as sweet as sugar had appeared on her lips.

——

Sunlight warms your face, and you slowly peel your eyes open to see it filtering through the window. Little dust specks float through the air, shining when they catch the light. You check the clock on your dresser - it’s been around five hours.

Holly, still asleep, has turned to face you while you were dozing, your hands now loosely clasped around her back. Her face is tucked into your shoulder, and you can feel her breath on your neck - it’s warm, and you let it pleasantly spread over you as you slowly return to full consciousness, shifting your arms so that they envelop more of her body. You wait, content to lie for as long as she needs.

Slowly, she stirs, her eyes fluttering open and head tilting upwards to meet yours. She makes an indistinct set of noises, registering your presence in front of her.

‘Afternoon,’ you whisper, voice low.

Holly’s voice is fuzzy with sleep, quiet. ‘How long was I out for?’

‘However much you needed to be,’ you reply. ‘Was it good?’

‘It was great,’ she breathes. ‘I don’t think I’ve had that good a rest in… well, ever since I took the last one, at least.’ Despite this, she looks around, eyes landing on the clock and widening just a little in guilt. ‘I do have to get back to work, though.’

‘No, stay,’ you murmur. ‘With me. Just for a little longer?’ You bring your arms up, placing one hand on her shoulder, and pull yourself even closer to her. ‘Call this extra overtime, if you need an incentive.’

She tucks back into you and giggles, the sound merry and clear as bells on Blissmas day. ‘I think I can do that for a little while.’

a/n: holly is so adorable oh my gosh, she deserves all the absolute best!! let me know if you enjoyed this - i'd love to write more for her :))

[carbon-dating-everything]

hiii! just wanted to drop by here and say that your recent cam fic is very cute and i love it. there's not much fluffy stuff written about him, but i do enjoy a flustered cam. 😈

ahhh, thank you so much!!! >u< i’m so glad you enjoyed!!

as much as i enjoy others��� fics i haven’t seen any so far reference the dialogue branch where you can properly fluster him, and i wanted to fill that void >:)) it feels better to me than insulting him with no choice in the matter, at least!! love a standoffish man caught off guard hehe

again, thank you!!! <3