carlthecloakedartblog

[carlthecloakedartblog]

AO3 IS DOWN???

[carlthecloakedartblog]

my personal designs and headcanons for them :D

i was gonna draw them in my other artstyle, but unfortunately my art block didnt want that :')

[carlthecloakedartblog]

freaky chance anon here: I FUCKING HATE HOW SOME PEOPLE MISCHARACTERIZE CHANCE. i’ve seen some people say that chance is an incel who would host the nastiest podcasts UNIRONICALLY and I was so confused?? like, DID WE PLAY THE SAME GAME??

chance is one of the sweetest characters in the entire game (not the sweetest overall since teddy exists), he always treats the mc with such kindness and offers so many nice things and only ever crashes out to them when THE MC GOES OUT OF THEIR WAY TO BE MEAN.

even when the mc friend zones them, he apologizes for being to forward, happily becomes friends with them, AND EVEN OFFERS THEM SNACKS ANYTIME THEY COME BY TO VISIT. THAT MAN HAS A HEART OF GOLD.

i feel like people only hate on chance because they think all nerds with being weirdos, when in reality, most nerd are NOT like that at all

the utter passion behind this ask made it post four separate times into my inbox

[carlthecloakedartblog]

i love D&D (G&G) playing nerds ‼️‼️

seriously they're my type

[carlthecloakedartblog]

5 Times Elliot Refused Service and the 1 Time He Didn't

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [+1]

you can also read on my ao3 <3

+1

It was raining.

Not the fun kind either—no gentle tapping or soft storm ambiance. This was the ugly, sideways kind. The kind that slapped windows and turned the sidewalk into a soup of wet leaves.

Sideways sheets of water pounded against the windows like the sky had a personal vendetta, and thunder growled low over the rooftops like a warning. Elliot had flipped the sign to “Closed” fifteen minutes early. There wasn’t a soul outside foolish enough to order pizza in this weather.

At least, he’d thought.

The bell above the door jingled—muted by the rain, but unmistakable.

“You’re—” he started, turning on instinct.

But then stopped.

c00lkidd was shivering, water dripping off the edges of his hoodie. 007n7 stood just behind him, just as soaked, hair plastered to his forehead and neck, his shirt clinging to him like it regretted every decision it had made. They both looked like they’d been caught in the kind of storm people warned each other about.

“We’re not here for food,” 007n7 said quickly. “My car broke down this morning, and the bus stopped running early—we were walking and this was the closest place open. I know we’re—”

“Sit down,” Elliot said, already turning for the back room. “You’re dripping everywhere.”

He returned a moment later with two paper cups of warm water in one hand and a pair of clean towels slung over his shoulder.

He set the cups gently on the table, then he handed the towel to c00lkidd, and the other one—softer, slightly worn at the edges—to 007n7, meeting his eyes for just a second before looking away.

He sat down across from them without another word, folding his arms and leaning back like he’d always intended to be there.

Not service. Just decency.

c00lkidd beamed. “We’re not blacklisted anymore?”

Elliot narrowed his eyes. “You’re still blacklisted, but this is an emergency exception. This doesn’t count.”

007n7 offered a faint, tired smile. “Thanks.”

Elliot just shrugged, leaning against the booth's seat as c00lkidd wrapped himself in a towel like a little burrito. The rain was louder now, hammering against the roof with chaotic insistence. The power flickered once, like it was considering giving up.

For a while, no one said anything. The kind of silence that felt warm. Shared. Not empty.

007n7 sat a little awkwardly, towel draped around him, eyes flicking between the window and Elliot.

Then he asked, quietly, “You’re not going to make us leave?”

Elliot shook his head. “It'd be cruel to send anyone out in that. Even you.”

007n7 huffed a soft laugh, surprised.

Another beat passed. Then Elliot spoke again—this time, quieter.

“What I said. Last time. About you setting him up for disappointment.”

007n7 looked up.

“I shouldn’t’ve said it like that,” Elliot continued, eyes fixed on the tiled floor. “I was… pissed. Tired. Doesn’t excuse it. It was a crap thing to say.”

A soft breath, almost a whisper: “Sorry.”

007n7’s expression shifted—subtle, but there. His shoulders relaxed just slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

007n7 huffed a quiet laugh, barely there.

“You don’t gotta apologize,” he said. “I’ve heard worse. And… you weren’t wrong.”

He nodded toward c00lkidd, now poking at the soda machine like it owed him money.

“I’m not always great at this. I know that. Still figuring it out.”

Elliot’s gaze softened.

“He’s a good kid,” he murmured. “Even when he’s wrecking my soda machine.”

“You’re a good parent,” he added before he could stop himself.

007n7 blinked, caught off guard.

Elliot suddenly looked like he regretted saying it. He straightened a little too fast, bumped his knee on the underside of the table, and started brushing imaginary crumbs off the table. “Just—just saying. For the record. Or whatever,” he added, voice a touch too high, eyes very pointedly not looking anywhere near 007n7

Outside, thunder cracked close—too close—and c00lkidd flinched, letting out a little yelp.

007n7 looked over at c00lkidd, “You okay?”

“I’m not scared,” c00lkidd said into the towel. “I’m just respecting the thunder.”

Elliot snorted.

007n7 crossed the room and knelt beside the kid, steady hands adjusting the towel like it was something delicate. “Respect it a little quieter,” he said.

Elliot leaned against the booth's table, arms folded.

From where he sat, he could just make out the way 007n7 moved—methodical, careful. He dabbed the towel over c00lkidd’s soaked hair, patted down his back, wiped off his cheeks like it was something he’d done a hundred times before. His voice was low, too low for Elliot to catch the words, but whatever he was saying seemed to work. The kid, jittery and half-soaked, had started to relax under it.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. 007n7 had always been like this, hadn’t he? Under the noise and posturing and whatever chaos he dragged in—there was this quiet thread of care. Like no matter how much of a mess things got, he’d still stop to make sure the kid wasn’t shivering.

It was… annoying.

And frustrating.

And—Elliot exhaled through his nose—kind of admirable.

He wasn’t putting on a show. Wasn’t trying to prove anything. He just was like this. Steady. Thoughtful. Like he didn’t know how not to be.

Elliot’s gaze lingered, tracing the way 007n7’s hair clung to his forehead, damp and curling slightly at the ends. There was a crease between his brows—focused, but soft. His lashes were darker from the rain, and for a second, Elliot caught himself watching the way he blinked, slow and tired.

Elliot’s gaze lingered. It shouldn’t have. But it did.

007n7’s hair clung to his forehead in dark, damp waves, water dripping down his temple. There was a crease between his brows—focused, careful. Stupidly nice.

The towel was draped over his back, but his shirt clung to his chest underneath, soaked through and practically transparent in places. Elliot could make out the faint shape of his collarbones, the slope of his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.

He blinked. 007n7 did, not Elliot. Though Elliot might’ve forgotten how for a second, watching those slow, tired blinks, lashes dark and heavy from the rain.

This was fine. Totally fine.

He looked away—immediately, sharply, like that would erase the past ten seconds. He was just—observing. Not staring. And definitely not thinking about the way 007n7 looked like that. That would be insane. Deranged, even. Ridiculous.

Elliot crossed his arms tighter and stared at the wall like it had personally offended him.

It was fine. Everything was fine. He wasn’t thinking about anything at all, especially not the fact that he was thinking about how 007n7 looked soaking wet.

He shifted, restless, and risked a glance.

007n7 was still crouched by c00lkidd messing around the with soda machine, quiet, steady, the towel now folded neatly beside him. His shoulders had relaxed a little. There was a softness in the set of his jaw, in the way his hands rested loosely on his knees.

And then—like he’d felt the look—007n7 turned.

He met Elliot’s eyes.

It was a small glance—unassuming, quiet—but it lingered just long enough to feel like something more. There was a stillness in it, a calm kind of attention. Like he was seeing Elliot, not just looking at him. Like it mattered that he was there.

Then, without a word, he turned back toward the window. “We’ll go when the rain lets up,” he said, voice low and steady.

Elliot nodded. “Yeah. Take your time.”

Thunder rumbled again outside.

But inside, it was warm.

[carlthecloakedartblog]

5 Times Elliot Refused Service and the 1 Time He Didn't

[1] [2] [3] [previous chapter] [5] [+1]

you can also read on my ao3 <3

5.

It started with a bang.

Literally.

A crash echoed from outside the front window, followed by a clatter that made Elliot instinctively wince. He didn’t even want to know what it was.

He looked anyway.

Outside, a garbage bin had tipped over, its contents scattered across the sidewalk in a sad sprawl of greasy paper bags and crushed soda cups.

Elliot pressed his lips into a thin line. He’d deal with it later. Probably.

Then came the jingle of the bell.

“You’re—” Elliot began, eyes still on the receipt printer.

“—blacklisted. I know.” 007n7’s voice was a familiar sigh, but today it had a… tone. Not defeated. Not tired.

Just… resigned.

And behind him?

c00lkidd.

Wearing a handmade cardboard pizza costume.

Complete with googly eyes.

And glitter.

Elliot blinked.

c00lkidd struck a pose in the doorway, arms wide. “TA-DA!”

Elliot stared. The costume was definitely a triangle, sure. But it looked like it had been made with a glue stick and the reckless abandon of a child with no sense of limits. Pepperoni blobs were crayon-scribbled red circles. The cheese was... yellow yarn.

007n7 sighed. “He’s making an entrance.”

c00lkidd struck a proud pose, triumphant. “Nailed it.”

Elliot raised an eyebrow. “You crashed into a trash can.”

c00lkidd pointed a finger at the door. “That was a tactical distraction.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Elliot snorted. Just once. Sharp and sudden. He immediately looked like he regretted it.

007n7’s eyes flicked toward him, a blink of surprise—like he wasn’t used to hearing it. Like it startled him more than the crash.

“I brought a peace offering,” c00lkidd said, pulling out a ziplock bag with two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches stacked inside. “Made ’em myself. No crusts. That’s the fancy part.”

They were uneven, slightly squished, and the jelly was already starting to seep through the bread.

Still, they didn’t look too bad.

Elliot stared at the bag like it might explode. “Are they… safe?”

c00lkidd grinned. “Mostly.”

Elliot sighed and took the sandwiches anyway, setting them behind the counter. “This doesn’t fix anything.”

007n7, from beside him, offered a quiet shrug. “He spent all morning trying to make them perfect.”

c00lkidd perked up. “And putting glitter on the crust!”

Elliot didn’t even ask how or why the crust had glitter. He just leaned back slightly, arms crossed. “And what exactly is the goal of all this?”

c00lkidd puffed out his chest. “To win your heart!”

007n7 choked on air.

007n7 turned bright red. “He means your forgiveness. For the blacklist. That’s what he meant.”

“Sure,” Elliot muttered, biting back a laugh. “That’s what I assumed.”

Another beat of silence.

Then Elliot said, “...You’re still blacklisted.”

c00lkidd nodded solemnly. “That’s fair.”

“But,” Elliot added slowly, “if the pizza prince here wants to parade around in that thing for the next ten minutes, he can stand by the window and do mascot duty. Free advertising.”

c00lkidd gasped. “I accept this noble mission!”

He bolted to the window and started doing half-remembered Fortnite emotes in the pizza triangle costume, nearly taking out a chair.

007n7, meanwhile, stood awkwardly by the counter, hands in his pockets.

“Thanks,” he said, quietly. “You didn’t have to—”

“Didn’t do it for you,” Elliot replied, but he was watching the kid with the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

The bell jingled as another customer walked in, casting a confused glance at the child-dancing pizza in the window.

Elliot just handed them a menu like this was totally normal.

[carlthecloakedartblog]

5 Times Elliot Refused Service and the 1 Time He Didn't

[1] [2] [previous chapter] [4] [5] [+1]

you can also read on my ao3 <3

4.

The rag moved in slow, even circles. Same rhythm. Same motion.

The counter was already clean. Had been for a while. But Elliot kept wiping anyway.

He told himself it was habit. Muscle memory. Something to keep his hands busy.

But the truth sat heavier than that—settled low in his chest like something left out too long.

He shouldn’t have snapped. Not like that.

Not with the kid right there.

He’d replayed it more times than he wanted to admit. The way 007n7 hadn’t even flinched. The way the kid still looked hopeful. Like none of it had landed.

Or maybe like it all had.

Elliot sighed and scrubbed harder, like the motion could erase something more than just sticky fingerprints.

So when the bell above the door rang again, his hand stilled.

That same silence followed. The kind that always came with them.

And somehow, he already knew who it was.

He didn’t look up right away. Instead, he carefully folded the rag and set it aside.

Then, finally, he glanced toward the door.

They hadn’t moved.

007n7 stood just inside, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, same work uniform as always. He looked tired in the way people only did when they stopped trying to hide it. And beside him, c00lkidd held something in both hands—a folded piece of paper clutched tight like a note passed across a classroom desk.

Elliot waited.

No words. No pleading this time. Just the kid standing still, like he didn’t know what to do next.

So Elliot leaned slightly on the counter, voice dry but not sharp. “You’re not even going to try today?”

007n7 blinked, caught off guard. “Didn’t think it’d help.”

It wasn’t sarcastic. Just honest.

“Right,” Elliot muttered. “Smart.”

A quiet beat passed.

Then c00lkidd took a few small steps forward and placed the paper on the counter. He unfolded it carefully—deliberately, like it mattered.

It was a crayon drawing. Three stick figures, drawn with thick, uneven lines. Elliot’s name was written in shaky handwriting under one of them. He had long spiky hair and a big smile.

In the middle: c00lkidd, holding both their hands, wearing a crown that looks like it was made of pizza.

And next to him was 007n7, taller, with comically large glasses that took up most of his stick face.

Elliot stared at it.

“He wanted to give you this,” 007n7 said quietly. “Even if we’re still blacklisted.”

c00lkidd nodded. “You don't have to keep it, but... I wanted you to have it.”

He looked at the drawing again. Then at the kid.

Then at 007n7, who shifted his weight slightly, eyes lowered. His hand moved to scratch at the side of his neck—casual, but a little too timed to be nothing. There was a faint pink at the tips of his ears, like he wasn’t sure if he should be proud or apologetic.

Like he hadn't expected the kid to draw that. And definitely hadn't expected him to look at it like this.

His lips didn’t quite move, but there was something there. A soft flicker. A ghost of a smile. But something in his chest turned over. Just a little.

“You’re not getting pizza,” Elliot said.

“I know,” 007n7 replied quickly. “He just wanted to—”

“But…” Elliot reached under the counter and pulled out a sealed paper bag. “The place across the street dropped off samples earlier. Garlic knots. I was just going to toss them.”

He slid the bag across the counter.

“They’re not pizza,” he added, quieter. “And I’m still not un-blacklisting you.”

007n7 looked at the bag like it might disappear if he blinked. “We can pay—”

“It’s garbage,” Elliot said. “They’re going stale.”

c00lkidd was already grabbing the bag with both hands like he’d just been handed treasure.

“Thank you,” 007n7 said, voice softer this time.

Elliot didn’t reply. He was already pretending to go back to wiping the counter.

But after the bell jingled again and the door closed behind them, the drawing stayed on the counter.

He kept it in his drawer later that night.

[carlthecloakedartblog]

5 Times Elliot Refused Service and the 1 Time He Didn't

[1] [prev chapter] [3] [4] [5] [+1]

you can also read on my ao3 <3

3.

It had been a shit day.

The kind where nothing worked the way it was supposed to—not the ovens, not the soda machine (Well, it didn't even work half of the time.), not even the sauce dispenser, which decided to throw a tantrum mid-shift and flood half the floor with marinara.

Some kid spilled a whole pitcher of cola, then stood there watching it puddle like it was a science experiment. No apology. No parent in sight. Just a blank stare and a slow shuffle away, leaving Elliot to clean it up with the one mop that squeaked every time it moved.

He was the only one on shift. He was always the only one on shift. Between answering the phone, taking orders, making them, boxing them, cleaning tables, fixing the sauce dispenser (again), and dealing with three different Karens yelling about things that weren’t his fault—he hadn’t even had time to breathe, let alone eat.

One of them had snapped because he was “too slow” bringing out her breadsticks, like he wasn’t single-handedly running an entire pizzeria. Another got mad that he wouldn’t let her toddler stand on the counter. A third told him to smile more.

By the time lunch rush ended, he felt like a ghost haunting his own body.

He was halfway through wiping down the counter when the bell jingled.

“You’re still blacklisted,” he said, deadpan.

Silence followed—the kind that stretched, not the kind that meant someone was leaving.

He finally glanced up.

007n7 was standing just inside the door, c00lkidd stood beside him, eyes big, hands clutching the strap of his backpack like it might anchor him in place.

Elliot straightened up slowly, already feeling the tension start to knot in his jaw.

007n7’s voice was calm. Tired, but calm. “He asked if we could try again.”

“He said maybe you’d say yes this time,” he added. “I told him not to get his hopes up.”

Elliot scoffed. “Great,” he said, sharper than he meant. “So we’re setting him up for disappointment on purpose now?”

The words left his mouth faster than his brain could catch up.

Instant regret burned at the back of his throat.

He could’ve let it go. Could’ve just let them leave and pretend it didn’t matter. But now he’d snapped at a man who already looked like he hadn’t slept in days. A man standing there with a kid clinging to the hope of something as simple as a slice of pizza.

Elliot hated that he recognized the look on c00lkidd’s face—the kind of look his sister used to wear when their dad forgot her birthday.

He didn’t take the words back. He couldn’t. But they sat there, heavy, sour in his mouth like something spoiled.

The shift on 007n7’s face was small—just a subtle flattening around the eyes, the way someone braces for something they already expected. He didn’t argue. Didn’t get defensive.

He just gave that small, tired smile again. The one that didn't reached his eyes. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”

It sounded like a joke.

It wasn’t.

Elliot looked at the kid— sad but still hopeful, still holding out for something Elliot knew he wouldn’t give.

He wanted to take it back. Or say something less harsh. But the moment passed.

007n7 gently nudged c00lkidd’s shoulder. “Come on, bud.”

They turned to leave.

The bell jingled softly as the door swung closed behind them.

Elliot stared at the counter, then down at the rag in his hand. He didn’t move for a while.

The place felt quieter than before.

And heavier.

[carlthecloakedartblog]

5 Times Elliot Refused Service and the 1 Time He Didn't

[previous chapter] [2] [3] [4] [5] [+1]

you can also read on my ao3 <3

2.

They came during the slow hour—when the ovens were humming, but no orders had come through in twenty minutes.

Elliot had just finished fixing the soda machine when the door opened.

He didn’t look. He didn’t need to.

007n7’s footsteps were easy to recognize. Careful. Cautious. Like someone afraid to take up space.

He didn’t bring excuses. Or apologies. Or that strained, hopeful smile that usually flickered across his face like static.

He just walked up to the counter and placed a plain white box on it.

“I baked these this morning,” he said quietly. “It’s nothing fancy. Just… something I thought you might like.

Elliot didn’t answer.

He didn’t even glance at the box.

007n7 hesitated. He looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t figure out how to make it land. How to make Elliot hear it without it sounding like begging.

Behind him, c00lkidd waited near the door, swinging one foot back and forth like he didn’t know what to do with the silence.

“They’re still warm,” 007n7 offered, like that might tip the scale.

It didn’t.

Elliot stepped away from the counter without a word. Went to the back, the way he did when he had better things to do. He didn’t say you’re blacklisted. He didn’t need to.

The silence said everything.

007n7 stood there a moment longer.

Then he nodded to no one in particular, turned around, and walked back to the door.

C00lkidd looked up at him as they left. “You forgot the box,” he whispered.

“No,” 007n7 murmured back. “I didn’t.”

The bell jingled as the door shut behind them.

Elliot came back out ten seconds later. He didn’t look toward the door. He didn’t look at the box.

He picked it up like it was trash.

Set it aside without opening it.

And went back to work.

[carlthecloakedartblog]

5 Times Elliot Refused Service and the 1 Time He Didn't

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [+1]

you can also read on my ao3 <3

1.

The shift was slow—the kind that made time feel like it was dragging its feet. The hum of the ovens in the back was the only sound competing with the soft scratch of pen on paper as Elliot filled in the crossword from the back page of the newspaper. The lobby was clean. The counters were spotless. Everything was in its place.

Peaceful. Finally.

And then the bell above the door jingled.

Elliot didn’t look up, he didn’t need to.

“You’re blacklisted,” he said, voice flat. “Leave.”

It was instinct by now. The routine had carved itself into him.

Silence answered him. No protests from the kid. No begging from 007n7. Just quiet. That was different.

Against his better judgment, Elliot glanced up.

There they were. 007n7 in a slightly wrinkled work uniform, standing still just a few steps inside the threshold. He looked… tired. Not dramatically so, not falling-apart tired—just the kind of exhaustion that clung to someone’s posture when they didn’t have the energy to hide it.

And beside him was c00lkidd.

For once, he wasn’t bouncing with energy or immediately trying to burn everything with his tablet. His hands were behind his back. His eyes were wide but not wild—just hopeful.

“He missed lunch today,” 007n7 said quietly. “We were hoping to grab something simple. We won’t stay long.”

The words weren’t said like a challenge. Not like the kind of excuse someone used to guilt their way past a boundary. Just a calm, simple statement. Like he knew it wouldn’t work, but still had to try.

Elliot didn’t move.

His pen hovered slightly over the crossword.

He wasn’t mad. Of course not. That would imply he was surprised. At this point, it was almost expected. The blacklist? Apparently just a polite suggestion now. And sure, maybe c00lkidd only nearly destroyed half the lobby last time—but hey, who's counting? The soda machine still sputtered like it had PTSD, but sure, let’s give him another chance. Why not.

He said nothing. Just stared.

007n7’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He nodded, once. A quiet acceptance, like yeah, I knew that would happen.

He turned to go.

c00lkidd looked back at Elliot once. Not annoyed. Not confused. Just… curious. As if he were confused on why they couldn't stay.

The bell jingled as they left.

Elliot stared at the crossword for a long moment.

He filled in a word. Got the spelling wrong. Scratched it out a little harder than necessary.

It was quiet again.

But it didn’t feel peaceful anymore.