#this s very long sorry

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint 😼

I got goth vibes and so does my AngelOC, Elodie. So it's funny to imagine this pink boy who is secretly an emo boy in disguise next to a wednesday addams esque babe lmao. Poor boy miscalculated, I like that there was an option to be like 'Oh I like that goth style' at the cafe.

But this raises a question! Would he drop the Ren persona and aesthetic if he realized it wasn't totally necessary?

⌞♥⌝ This has been answered multiple times in the past, but yes, he'd drop the light academia aesthetic if Angel wasn't into it! ^^

However, from a game dev standpoint, it'd be extremely difficult for me to include a bunch of types and aesthetics in hopes of making Ren's appearance feel more inclusive for everyone, so it's easier for me to say, "Oh, Angel likes this one anime character" and build the lore around that.

So, for those who like Ren's real appearance and would've preferred if he introduced himself as [REDACTED] (instead of his Haruko persona), I hear you!! ^^

But please understand that if that were the case, the 14DWY storyline would be a lot less interesting and would defeat the entire purpose of Ren's motives. A big part of his characterisation is that he's more than willing to alter every part of himself to become Angel's ideal type, and if their type happened to be [REDACTED], then it'd make the buildup to his reveal in Day ??? feel far less anticlimactic.

[dunmeshiminimumwage]

back when i worked at [large chain coffee store], i tried to unionize my workplace. my manager sat me down and gave me a very guilt trip-y talk. lots of "but i thought we were a family :(" and "you don't *really* know what unionization does, do you?" i played dumb and managed to avoid being fired, but. chilchuck momence.

[maximura]

[arushofbulletstothehead]

[lxvenderjewel]

Let me talk about how it's so interesting that John seems to have great people skills yet talks a lot about failed romantic relationships. And his fixation on romantic relationships themselves.

Now bear with me here. And this does mildly pertain to an episode that's not fully out yet, so there's vague allusions to that, so just beware I suppose.

I think it's very interesting that he has good people skills, but to strangers. He can talk a stranger down from violence. He can somewhat charm strangers. He's a very good stranger person, not necessarily a very good people person.

We see a pattern in a lot of his close relationships that we're told about (excluding his mum of course) where he seems to try really hard with people he's close to. In the latest mailbag he talks about having a partner who broke up with him on his birthday during quarantine, which then led him to re-enlist in the army (if I remember correctly, he enlisted at first to prove to her that he was a serious person, which also just break my heart because he deserves to be his silly self).

We've (me and a few friends) speculated that the reason for his quarantine relationship failing might've been because he suffocated his partner with affection while still somehow missing something there, maybe it was that the relationship felt forced because he was trying so hard.

I do think it's very tragic how he can connect with strangers so quickly, but he seems to not know what to do once those strangers become, well, more than strangers to him. He's very good at quick connections. He doesn't know what to do with a long term connection, or a connection that gets picked back up (we see this with Hayter in REIG, he feels immensely jealous of this person whose life he saved).

Which puts a lot of pressure on him (from himself) to do Sherlock and Mari right. Because they've stuck together for seven months now? This is another long relationship ride, and I feel like especially with the PTSD, and the general war veteran pain, he would feel the need to prove to them (and by extension himself) that he can get this relationship right, that he can keep these people close to him.

Which then loops back around to his abysmal self esteem which if I start talking about I will never stop so I'm shutting up here. And if you have things to add please do because it makes me very happy when people affirm my rants.

[noodlex]

"..."

Master/Slave AU by @kansuda2478

[drivelikeiido]

want me

(mohawk) matty can't seem to keep his eyes off of you at the bar

matty healy x f! reader 

word count: 2.8k

warnings: smoking and alcohol and a lil smutty but no actual smut (maybe i’ll write it in a part 2 if y’all are interested in that ?) BUT NO MINORS IDC GET AWAY

notes: sorry this took so so long to write i’ve been in a writing slump but i’m back !! and i apologise for edging you with not actual smut once again but that’s just how it is ! i prefer writing longing over actual smut anyways but if y’all want a part 2 i could be persuaded. also this idea originally came to me while listening to crying lightning by the arctic monkeys so do with that what you will. 

Stereotypical summer weather is a rarity in England so the minute the sun came out Matty invited you to join him and the boys and their girlfriends at the pub, which is how you’ve ended up in a rather seductive battle of wills with your boyfriend. He somehow thinks his staring over the top of his sunglasses while playing a game of pool with the boys is subtle but in reality his feelings towards the short summer dress you’re currently wearing are blatantly obvious, which means you just have to tease him a little - you play your own little game while he plays his.

You sit on a table opposite where the boys are playing, sharing a pitcher of some fruity, more alcohol than mixer, concoction with the girls, chatting and catching up in low content voices while you make the most of the golden sun that warms you and casts a glow onto your skin. You hadn’t seen all the girls in some time so you appreciated the chance to catch up with them in such a relaxed setting, everyone’s mood boosted by the appearance of the sun and the weather it brings. The stuffy British heat gradually makes you feel uncomfortable and you begin to fan yourself with an old cocktail menu sitting on the table, your hair moving with the breeze and exposing your neck and sun soaked chest more, an action that doesn't go missed by Matty’s watchful eyes. He still pretends to be fully absorbed in his game of pool but his glances over your way become more and more frequent, his hands becoming restless as he taps out some unknown staccato beat on the bottle in his hands, the beads of condensation running down his lithe fingers and dropping to the ground. The boys are far too used to Matty’s frequent musings and distracted behaviour when it comes to you so they pay no heed to his distracted state, Hann poking his side when it was his turn to play, a knowing smile gracing his lips.

At one point Matty catches your eye and you wave innocently over, your neutral appearance betraying the playful thoughts running in your head. The girls at the table have also taken notice of your boyfriend’s not so subtle staring, giggling amongst themselves and encouraging whatever mischief you’re thinking of starting with hushed voices, comments being thrown around about how obviously obsessed he is with you. However that wholesome notion is short lived as one of the girl’s nudges you and motions over to Matty, his dark eyes trained on you as he looks you up and down once more, moving his sunglasses further down his nose, his actions far from subtle as he devours you with his eyes. Ross too clocks onto this and kicks Matty’s sneakered foot in a jokey manner, his laughter floating into the air as you hear him jokingly scold your boyfriend to “Behave”, a subtle blush makes its way onto Matty’s cheeks in his embarrassment at being caught by his friend. He raises his hands, pool cue still clutched in his left, in a show of apology, grinning over to you as he mouths “Sorry, love”, however both of you know this apology is nowhere near genuine as he truly has no plans whatsoever to cease his overt appreciation for his girlfriend.

His hands return to his side as he pulls out his cigarettes, offering them to the boys and lighting one up himself, his cheeks hollowing as he inhales the acrid smoke. You have to hold in the sigh threatening to spill from your lips, your fingers finding a sudden interest in the blue striped straw in your glass, anything to take your focus off the hypnotic man in front of you. You try and think of anything else to calm your racing brain but thoughts of your boyfriend’s pretty plush lips circling around the cigarette and how his talented fingers balance it in his hands do nothing to quell the unignorable need you’re already feeling for him. The cigarette rests on his lips that now seem etched into a permanent smirk, your boyfriend taking pleasure in knowing how the sight of him smoking always has this effect on you, his nicotine addiction working in his favour at this moment in time to make you as desperate for him as he is for you.

Matty’s cigarette has since been savoured and finally put out, however the thoughts of your boyfriend's talented fingers and pink lips still occupy the front of your mind and go straight to your core. The suspended smell of smoke in the air is so resemblant of your boyfriend it’s almost intoxicating and results in your mind being only filled with thoughts of him; all social expectations and fears are quelled purely by the overwhelming distraction that is Matty. You nod and hum absentmindedly to the girls’ conversation at the table, their subtle smirks giving away that they know very well where your mind has vanished off to as your fingers begin to drum energetically on the table, your body language practically oozing unrest.

You begin to notice the alcohol’s buzz beginning to wear off, melted ice being all that’s left in the pitcher. One of the girls nods to you, breaking your attention from the realm of smutty daydreaming and gestures her head back inside the pub, “Why don’t you go inside and get some more? Give him something else to look at” her smile wide and entertained, her eyes shining with mischief as you make out a wink from behind the shadowed lenses of her sunglasses. You nod, smiling, appreciating the sudden development of a plan. You stand, brushing off your already rather short dress of imaginary lint, just giving yourself another action to use up your excess energy. As you pick up the empty pitcher and quickly drop a glance towards Matty, who of course is already looking at you with eyes resemblant of an abandoned puppy as he looks over the dark lenses of his sunglasses. You see a quick smile grace his features, (the cause of which a mystery to you) and the stray hairs on the top of his head sticking to his forehead slightly due to the sheen of sweat covering him, the sight shouldn’t have as much of an effect on you as it does, sending another wave of heat through your body as you imagine scraping your fingers through the coarse short hair at the sides and brushing back those loose hairs of his mohawk, tugging slightly as you do so. You drop your head to dispel these thoughts and push your way back through the door into the bar, dropping the pitcher back onto the bartop, ready to order another round for the girls. Your mouth just opened to speak when you feel a gentle hand grab your wrist, turning quickly in alarm you’re immediately relieved to see the dishevelled hair and dark eyes of your boyfriend. An apologetic look graces his features for a second, his hand dropping to yours and squeezing, his voice low and gravelly when he says “Follow me”. This is the first you’ve heard his voice in nearly an hour and it alone has the power to have your knees buckle. He must sense the question ready to spill from your lips, as his voice becomes more demanding “Now, darlin”. His authoritative tone erases any other thoughts you may have as you begin to follow his loudly booted feet into what you recognise to be a stall in the men’s bathrooms.

As thankful as you are that your boyfriend is as needy for your body as you are his, the public nature of this rendezvous does bubble a bit of panic into your chest, a feeling that is immediately forgotten as his toned hands grab your face and he slots his lips onto yours.  The suddenness of the action catching you by surprise but still eliciting a neediness in you as you push your body impossibly close to his, kissing him back with pent up fervour that has been brewing beneath your skin since he put on that leather jacket before leaving the flat hours ago. The residual alcohol and danger of the situation heightens your senses and you swear you could floatl from how euphoric you felt, Matty acting as your own personal drug, the taste of alcohol and smoke on his lips going straight to your head. A breathy laugh escapes your throat as you rest your head in the crook of his neck while he attacks yours with kisses and small bites that you just know will need to be extensively covered tomorrow.

“Matty someone will hear us” your voice hushed and restrained as you try your best to repress the wanton moan that has been threatening to spill from your lips since the moment he touched you at the bar.

He pulls back from your neck to deliver a quick and frenzied “Good. Let them. Once they see my beautiful girlfriend they’ll know why I couldn’t wait any longer” that is more panted than spoken into the side of your neck. His hands are like vices on your waist, forever squeezing and gripping at the skin there, as if no matter how much he touched you it would never be enough to satisfy him. His words elicit a whimper from your throat beyond your control, a knowing smirk into your neck being his response.

You move to return the favour, sucking dark bruises into his neck, his grunts and deep breaths from above you your own personal melody as your hands run through the long mop of hair on the top of his head, tugging on the strands then lightly scratching through the buzzed hairs on the sides, making sure to kiss the exposed skin behind his ear, knowing how it makes him crumble, this clear in the small restrained whimper that is only audible due to your extreme proximity; you two are practically one entity as you’re pressed up so closely together in this stall. Matty’s hands make quick work of sliding under your dress and ghosting over your ass, his fingers surprising you in their sudden desperation as they grope and squeeze at the skin there. His hips grind instinctively into yours, both of you sharing the same air as you gasp in synchronicity, normally you’d find something poetic in that action but your brain was so hazy with thoughts of Matty that nothing else would compute. Your skin burned with need for him and the more you kissed and licked at his skin the more your world began to centre around the delicious smokey smell that clung to his hands and his clothes, and you grow a little jealous at its ability to be in constant proximity to him, the smell lingering on him like it was inherent to his being, a factor you adored about him.

Your hands instinctively move to unbuckle his belt, however his lithe fingers move to shadow over your wrists, dropping a gentle kiss to your head “As much as I am desperate for you to do that darlin’, I will not be able to control myself if we go that far right now”. He kisses away the small pout that has formed on your lips, his nose momentarily nudging yours as he rests his forehead on yours “I promise I’ll make it up to us both when we get home but right now I’d rather not have both of us walk back to our friends and the rest of the pub smelling of sex, we’d never hear the end of it”. 

Your voice whispers in a poor attempt to hide your desperation and surprise at his audacity “That’s not fair Matty you’ve literally been eyefucking me all night and now you wanna be all responsible? You’re such a cockblock”. He barks out a laugh at this and threads his hands into your hair, pulling and stroking at the strands, “I’m being responsible. I’m trying out something new” he jests, dropping a quick kiss to your nose.

You drop your head to his chest, kissing the exposed ink that peeks out from the collar of his shirt. “I don’t know if I like it” you mumble with a smile, hands grabbing at any piece of him you can salvage. 

“You're so evil Matty, you’re such a tease”. He almost coos at your flustered state “Trust me I know the feeling sweetheart, it is taking every single ounce of self control I have to not flip up this excuse for a dress and have you against this wall until the only word you can say is my name”. 

You give an exasperated moan at this into his chest and hold onto him even tighter as warmth surges through you again. “You’re really not helping”, he huffs out another low laugh and lifts his finger to your chin, guiding you to look into his sparkling, lust-filled eyes, his voice earnest and seductive when he says “I promise, promise, I will make it up to you when we get home, trust me I need you too darlin’. It’s just if I didn’t touch you now I think I would have lost my mind at that pool table”. His hands now cradle your face like a precious piece of china, his slender thumb rubbing slowly across your cheek, the soothing action working to calm you both down from your shared frenzy. You lean into him again as your lips fit together, it’s a kiss filled with want and the hanging desire of what’s promised and you have to force yourself to pull away from him. You truly think he could steal all the air from your lungs and you’d let him, as long as you were kissing him you could die happy.

He gives you one last quick peck and fixes any of your smudged lipstick and smooths out any wrinkles on your dress, his hands ghosting over your skin a little longer than one would deem innocent. You too try to get him presentable, giggling as you wipe away the lipstick on his lips with your thumb and run your hands through his mohawk a few more times than necessary, loving the feeling of his dark locks passing through your fingers. 

Together you exit the bathroom, your skin already turning red with the fear that people will know what you’ve been up to. Matty tells you to wait by him while he orders another pitcher for the girls and drinks for himself and the boys, his hand absentmindedly grabbing yours while you wait at the bar, empathising with how embarrassed you must be feeling but also not so secretly revelling in it, his dominant streak momentarily taking over.

You pass through the door to outside once again, squinting at the sun that threatens your vision as you emerge. The girls whistle at your reappearance, giggles floating through the air at your flushed appearance and nervous smile. You avoid all the staring eyes, the boys too grinning knowingly in yours and Matty’s direction. You separate from him as you set the pitcher down at your shared table, your blush definitely giving away the answer to any question as to what you were up to.

 “Sorry for the wait guys, there was a queue” you hurry out, still refusing to make eye contact, knowing you’ll crack and start laughing as soon as you do. Charli laughs and nods unconvinced, her voice mockingly slow “Yeah, sure there was”. This sets the girls off laughing, you soon join in, your head falling to your hands in embarrassment. The boys too now looking over your direction and laughing, George patting Matty on the back, his cheeks now matching yours in their cherry pink state, the blush creeping all over your chest adding to pigment you’ve already gained from the sun’s heat. What you don’t see in your all-consuming fit of embarrassment is Hann reaching over to Matty’s neck to wipe off some remaining lipstick that stains there, his smile is infectious amongst the boys as they poke fun over Matty’s flustered state. Once you all recover from your fit of giggles you look up from your hands over to Matty who is, of course, already looking at you. He mouths the words "I’m so in love with you", his bright smile is back and so contagious that the blush on your cheeks immediately becomes immovable, a smile in your words too as you mouth back back, "I’m so in love with you too, Matty". His perfect smile graces your eyes as he returns to his game with the boys, his attention more focused on the game than before, his hands only ever leaving the cue to push the dark strands of hair that fall in front of his vision back into their assigned place. He only ever looks up to you every now and again to wink, an action filled with so much desire and expectation for when you get home, the subtlety making your whole body flush with excitement and the impatience to get back to the flat to see what awaits you grows even stronger.

[1980ssunflower]

🏡💙So Good to See You!💛☔

[berryblu-soda]

they should invent a me that doesnt do everything excruciatingly slow...

[gotchibam]

Just wanna say I finally updated the trello queue for the ko-fi doodle requests! Sorry it took so long but also thank you sm for being patient w/ me ;_;

[solar-halos]

for this mood board monday, i present yet another ficboard. the board in question is of franka by @ongreenergrasses

[pokimoko]

Listening to instrumentals from the silly doo-wee-ooo show is actually something that can be so painful.

[deus-ex-mona]

my five surviving braincells when something remotely good happens:

[revvywevvy]

ive been into time loops lately idk what it is about them that just has me so. RRRRRRRRR.

anyways this is myrelle/c-311 and shes a silly little LOSER who got backrooms'd into the pressure universe from classic era roblox and is now stuck in a time loop of which there seems to be no end (spoiler the escape criteria is freeing everybody from the blacksite like its some un/dert/ale pacifist type shit not that anybody involved knows that yet) and she and sebby are friends besties even(?) friendsies.

backstory blurb transcript/more complete entity(/monster) logs under the cut

{ Backstory transcript }

'C-311 is a resident not of this reality. A Robloxian citizen of the early 2000's, C-311 had one day tripped and no-clipped from one world to the next by chance. Mere days after entering this new realm, C-311 was arrested and falsely convicted of murder, having been mistaken for the true culprit and sentenced harshly. 93 days into her sentence, her cellmate forged her signature for 'The Expendable protocol', not wanting to partake themselves but also wishing to be rid of the 'nuisance' in their cell. Having minimal option and seeing the perks of success, she ended up accepting her circumstances and departing with Urbanshade employees, hoping to perhaps find the time to find a way back home. She would come to regret this decision, as she would be killed early on into the expedition. Yet, she would then have a strange 'dream' post-mortem before awakening back on that day, just hours prior to the expedition- with all memory of the beings that lurked intact. Not even this knowledge could quell the ever-present terror. An un-ending nightmare, things would merely repeat. However… she would soon learn that even escape proved futile. Luckily for her, she wasn't the only one trapped, memories of the incessant loop untouched.'

{ More Complete (Relationship?) Logs }

Z-13 { The Saboteur / Sebastian Solace } : 'Sebastian viewed her like any other expendable initially, however, became suspicious upon experiencing a time-reset of sorts upon her first death. This suspicion grew with the deaths, him quickly linking the time-resets to the deaths. This suspicion then became coupled with annoyance and irritation as these deaths intervened with his search for an escape from the Blacksite- due to any research he'd gain being revoked upon reset, essentially sending him back to square one every time. He did NOT like how this seeming little coward, someone who was nothing like the typical criminals who passed, was the difference between progress and a total halt in any plans. Even worse, there was nothing he could do about it. If he killed her himself- a reset. If he tried to snatch her up, her PDG would be detonated immediately. If she escaped, he'd most likely be trapped forever. As nice as a challenge was, this was not that. It was just impossible!

However, a good chunk of this irritation was quelled upon finally meeting her face to face. (Not all of it, obviously.) She was quick to recognize him from those post-mortem 'dreams', and upon learning that he was also privy to the time loop became immensely apologetic. She was thankful for the information he'd been giving her regarding the monsters lurking, and to his surprise, was more than willing to turn over ALL of his data scavenged, even if there was nothing in return. Though, it was rather pointless if any deaths reset everything anyway. He pondered that he could keep the data if she lived, but if she escaped the Blacksite, then, again, his time could very well run out just as quickly as she would depart. C-311 felt awful knowing Sebastian was trapped down there, and was stuck in such an impossible situation- and naively decided that she wanted to help free him and anyone else down there that could be helped. Not the brightest light-bulb, if she couldn't immediately realize there would be no safe way back down for her once she left. He wasn't sure how to take the hopeful declaration that there was always a way. Oh, how naive. Knowing he couldn't kill her anyway, he bitterly resigned that his future escape just became much more difficult, opting to send her on her way. When the crystal was eventually retrieved and the power shut off, his bitterness returned. The power eventually returned, and he braced for the worst. Yet, that bitterness was replaced with shock when, soon enough, another reset occurred. There was no death, this time.

The next time Sebastian and C-311 encountered one another, the expendable was in a frenzy, frantically explaining that even ESCAPE ended in a reset. He was flabbergasted at this. What the hell was going on??? What did any of that even mean? Why was this happening? However- this could be a good thing. This meant that maybe, he had time! If there were no consequences save for a reset upon death or escape for C-311, they could use that to their advantage! The expendable was quick to jump on-board, offering to help Sebastian any way he could in his plans to escape. From there, their alliance began, going on strong even if there were ups and downs to the situation at hand. A lot of experimentation had to be done as to what they could get away with before C-311 would die, or how far she could go post-escape before resetting. Though, as time went on, the two grew from mere allies to friends.'

Sebastian is intrigued about this little weirdo. Its a miracle to him that he hasn't been nabbed for experimentation by Urbanshade. Her antlers seem to phase through walls and ceilings, as though they aren't a tangible object. Yet, they're obviously solid to the touch. She can 'glitch' on and through various surfaces (her words), but only at certain corners and wall setups- and depending on the 'glitch' she ends up briefly stunned in some capacity. Even stranger, she can 'equip' and 'unequip' items as if its a game, and if done fast enough and facing a thin wall makes her clip right through. And, back home, people could apparently 'reset' and 'respawn', rendering death mostly useless. He's glad she's smart enough not to demonstrate anything outside of SCRAMBLER range, knowing that they'd probably be taken for experimentation if caught on CCTV. She can make computer noises and other strange SFX, but it seems he (and one other person are)/is the only one(s) who can notice it (and can somehow understand her?)

Oddities and quirks aside, she's one of the more respectful expendables, one who is nowhere near as irritating as the rest. She actually respects his boundaries, is cooperative, and kind. Even if she's on the more sensitive side, she handles his sass and snark well, and has a silly streak that mirrors his energy. Plus, when she appears with other expendables, she actually tries to hold them back from harassing Sebastian. Of course, you can't save everyone, but he does his best and is somehow mostly unbothered any time Seb ends up killing one (Perhaps the time loop is getting to her head?). He had given up on most people, but C-311 is like a weird, endearing little light in the dark.

Z-779 { p.AI.nter } : Another individual C-311 wishes to help free. Upon discovering the documents regarding him, she was mortified at what she learned, and enraged on his behalf. Due to a lack of recollection regarding the time loop, cooperation is made extremely difficult. Sebastian would need to tell p.AI.nter of C-311's assistance every time a reset occurred, which became extremely redundant at some point. C-311 opts to just try her best to evade death from fake doors, speaker hijacking and turrets as a result. She does not encounter p.AI.nter face to face often.

Z-96 { "Good People" } : C-311 vaguely pities the workers that compose this mass of flesh, knowing they were consumed without remorse or chance to escape. However, due to the fact that many people smashed into this glob were Urbanshade employees, her sympathy is low. She is glad they choose to hide in fake rooms- such a monster is terrifying to her.

Z-367 { Pandemonium } : A monster that, understandably, fills C-311 with immense fear. Any time she encounters Z-367, she departs drained and in shambles. Having to fight off such a thing in the suffocating confines of a locker never fails to inflict extreme anxiety and paranoia.

Z-317 { Eyefestation } : A monster that somehow does not faze C-311 much. Knowing she is in another world, she is not as susceptible to any manipulation via vocal mimicking telepathy- though there are times she feels herself about to break to this. Due to the communication possible through this telepathy, he tries to soothe Z-317 with thoughts that he is not their enemy, nor does he want them harmed- but this seldom works as they are too focused on revenge for their experimentation. On the occasion that this does work, Z-317 merely watches C-311 go through the room with intrigue, though she does not look into their eyes either way. Nobody is immune to radiation!

Z-90 { Wall Dwellers } : A monster that fills C-311 with immense fear and terror. Being the paranoid type, this entity is one of her absolute worst nightmares. The mere idea of something being in the walls- watching, stalking- it fills her with dread. She tends to stay glued to Sebastian any time she reaches him due to this, needing long breathers to cope with its mere existence in the facility dragging her down. In the presence of other expendables, she copes much, MUCH better. Loneliness is her kryptonite, mentally- but the paranoia Z-90 inflicts makes her less susceptible to attacks due to her constantly watching her back.

Z-V06 { Void Mass } : A monster that fills C-311 with unease. The idea of being trapped in a locker with those things, digested alive, is horrifying. She's cautious around lockers due to them, especially when alone- so she is mostly safe on that front.

Z-283 { The Angler } : A monster that inflicts anxiety. However, due to its lack of sight, evasion is easy enough. She is careful to avoid straying too far from lockers.

[ Froger ] : Same as the default Angler- but with an added nervousness at her rebounds. C-311 stays glued to lockers until her 3rd round, always.

[ Chainsmoker ] : Same as default Angler- but with an extreme added anxiety due to the green smoke it spews, akin to that of Paranoia's Box. She tries to be as patient as possible with it, but its hard when the smoke triggers her fight or flight so quickly when in lockers.

[ Pinkie ] : Same as the default Angler- but with an added anxiety due to the lack of warning signs. C-311 does not like straying far from safety solely because of her. Even a moment out in the open could mean death from her.

[ Blitz ] : Same as the default Angler- but with an added anxiety due to just how fast the damn thing is.

S-Q { Squiddles } : For some reason, C-311 finds all instances of S-Q cute. Yes, even when agitated (most of the time.) Of course she's going to startle and jump if she's caught off guard by one, but something about them is just so... silly, to her.

Vultus Limunaria { Searchlights } : She dreads any encounter with the Searchlights, especially following the Ridge. C-311 isn't the best swimmer, so you could guess why- as you'd need quick reflexes to hide if its lights approached. She has been hooked by it once- and it was one of the most painful experiences she'd had down there (if you exclude any deaths from Z-367, Z-90 or the Z-V06.)

Z-538 { Abstract Art } : It freaked her out initially, but upon learning they were completely harmless, she now merely vibes with them.

Z-432 { Limited-Time Imaginary Friend } : As nice as having a friend would be down there, that is just NOT it. Her disconnected and random statements trigger her paranoia, even if the words have nothing to do with her environment. No matter how gentle or soothing a voice may be, being told something's coming when nothing is is a gut wrenching experience- especially if you suffer from paranoia. One time using the remote was more than enough.

Mr. Lopee : An entity she has not encountered or noticed the presence of before. Despite his potential involvement in the grand scheme of things, she is left clueless.

Styx : An entity she has only ever encountered once. Upon opening the door and being jumpscared by it, she not only screamed so loud that a nearby Z-V06 was practically startled from its locker, but she stumbled backwards, tripped, and fell through a massive hole in the room, down a connected cavern and to her death. One of his more embarrassing deaths. (And as much as Sebastian could or would want to mock them for said death, he probably would have met the same fate had he encountered the damn thing so close to en environmental hazard)

J-123-4 { The Man from the Mindscape } : An entity C-311 has never encountered before.

[solar-nightengale]

helloooooo, if you feel like it, 'defending the other when someone says something only slightly criticising about them' or 'comforting the other as soon as they're alone' from the protective prompts list for the two betrothed idiots please? :)

HI HELLO!!!! Ngl I leapt for JOY when I saw the choices for this ask!! And, most unfortunately, I couldn’t decide between either. 👏 So lucky you!! You’re gonna get both of them just for the hell of it JHDGKU like another one done previously, this’ll also be from the past. Which part of said past, well… 😏, you’ll find out 😉

~ I GOT YOU ~ PROTECTIVE PROMPTS

1. defending the other when someone says something only slightly criticising about them. AND 14. comforting the other as soon as they're alone

!! CW !! : There's hints at manipulation and childhood trauma

Lampwick had to admit: while he had been ready for as bothered of a reaction as they got, the Blue Fairy was taking the news pretty well.

He had expected very loud protests and public degradation, given what she had just been told. But they were neither in any public setting and no shouting had yet to be heard from the kitchen. Perhaps that was him simply wishing she’d give him a reason to bite back just as hard. Despite Pinocchio’s displeasure of him doing so, Lampwick loved getting on the Fairy’s case whenever he could. Someone had to do it—he felt—and he knew Pinocchio wouldn’t dare try his luck with her, so it was up to him. A task he so gladly took on.

Unfortunately, it looked like the Blue Fairy had no intentions of giving him that satisfaction today. Instead, what stood before them was the pest, silent and stoic as ever, her expression just barely withholding her displeasure on receiving the news. He wondered how she’d take it if she found out she was the last to be told.

“Well, this is quite the-,” she paused with a huff, “shocking development.”

Lampwick cocked a brow up from where he sat at the table, taking a quick peek at his, ah, newly proclaimed boyfriend. Pinocchio stood by the edge of the table with his arms crossed. He reclined warily against the wood, his fingers digging into the fabric of his dark shirt. His pale face, even whiter than usual, held a tame frown on it, Lampwick unable to tell if the man was more frustrated or more terrified.

The fairy stood across them both, pose straight and unmoving as though she were made of stone. Her gaze had yet to leave Pinocchio’s face, Lampwick seeing the subtle way that Pinocchio tried to avoid looking at her properly. The red-head scoffed as he leaned back against the table, kicking his leg out and crossing it over the other.

“Really? You’re tha’ surprised.” he asked, finally drawing the gnat’s attention to him.

He pretended to not see the look the woodcarver gave him, as the fairy bristled.

“Well, no, of course not. Seems Pinocchio has always had a strange intrigue in you.” she explained, glancing between the two of them. Her words sounded almost bitter, Lampwick’s smirk only widening as he sighed wistfully.

“What can I say? I’m both a charmer and a good-looking guy, am I right?” he asked, cocky grin shot at the woodcarver. But Pinocchio gave him no response.

“Right.” the fairy deadpanned, looking back at the woodcarver once more. “Pinocchio, are you sure this is the right choice for you-”

“Yes.” Pinocchio responded curtly, finally glancing up, “Yes, I’m sure. I’m as sure as I was the last three times that you’ve asked me that question.”

The fairy seemed as surprise as Lampwick was by the tone, but her shock faded away quickly enough as her expression melted to something softer once again. “I just want to make sure you’re doing what’s right-”

“And I feel that what I’m doing is fine.” Pinocchio continued, is tone equally as terse as before. Lampwick noticed how tightly he gripped at his arms, the nervous tension from the young woodcarver visible from even a mile away. “Is-is it so wrong to love? He’s not as bad as you’re making him out to be.”

“I’m not saying he’s a bad person, but-”

“No buts! I don’t want to hear anymore buts, you’re not even listening to me!” Pinocchio interjected his voice pitching upwards, as he ground his teeth together. “I said I was sure about my choice, so why can’t it be left at that?”

“Pinocchio-”

“No, I’m- I’m done listening to all of this! Like I didn’t call you over and-and tell you this stuff for you to go on about how wrong it is. I’ve made my choice and I’m sticking to it. I’m sticking to him.”

Lampwick couldn’t help but grin. He was almost tempted to reach out and give the man’s arm a reassuring squeeze as he continued to talk, held back only by the tenseness of the man’s poise. Maybe touching him at all wouldn’t be all that helpful right now, he wasn’t entirely sure. Still, it was nice to see him holding out on his own for once. A rare sight to see but one that made him feel proud of the man when it did happen.

Blue sighed that typical sigh of hers that Wick could only understand as “I’m gonna say something no one is going to like here.” And whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t help but brace himself for it, spotting Pinocchio do the same out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not saying that it’s wrong, dear, but understand that what may be a good choice right now could go south still. And I know how easy it can be for either of you to take a less pleasant route that’ll lead to them-”

“Blue, that’s enough.” Pinocchio cut in, steely eyes on the fairy. “Please, I’ve heard this time and time again before any of this. And you’re still not listening to me! Lampwick is here to stay for as long as we’re happy and I don’t plan on changing anything here. We’re not suddenly going to dive off a cliff into darkness for fun for goodness sake!”

“I understand. And your intentions are well-meaning, but even with the best intentions it’s easy to fall astray without someone there to guide you down the right path. I only want what’s best for you, you know that. I wouldn’t say what I’m saying if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do.”

Lampwick’s smile dropped, peeking up at the woodcarver curiously. Much as he was eager to hear if the man would have anything to say on that matter, he knew that face. He knew that daunting gaze and the silent gaping that it all came with. He knew far too well that the man had little else to say on the matter; not so much because he didn’t want to but because he simply couldn’t. And judging by the sudden patience that the Blue Fairy seemed to flair, he wondered if he knew what she had been doing the whole time.

He slammed his hand hard on the table, watching both jump as he stood up, his expression carrying a strained but polite smile as he stared the fairy down.

“I’ve reason t’ believe you’ve outsayed your welcome.” he stated, watching her bristle.

“You have no means of-”

“Yeah yeah, though you seem to have forgotten that this ain’t your house.” he retorted as he led her to the door, feeling her grow more tense under his hold. “Maybe come back once ya’ve aired out your aptitude!”

“Pinocchio is-”

“A grown ass man and doesn’t need babysitting when it comes to the choices he makes, aight?” Lampwick cut in, his grin widening all the while the fairy seemed to grow more frustrated. With a wave of his hand he shooed her past the threshold and leaned against the doorframe. “Take your leave.”

“You-”

“Good day, Reul Ghorm!” with a final cheery grin he slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure.

Lampwick let out a breath, his smile still plastered on his face as he turned back around and moved to the kitchen. “Well! I’d say that went pretty well!”

Pinocchio peered up as Lampwick drew closer, ice blue eyes holding a haunted look on his ashened face. “Yeah?”

“Well, given all things considered about her!” Lampwick snorted with a half-hearted shrug. His smile soon vanished, as Pinocchio only hummed in response and returned his gaze back to the ground. “You okay?”

“Sure.” he heard the man mutter tersely.

Lampwick hummed, as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Mmmmmm yeah don’ really believe ya.”

“You just asked me the question and now gonna doubt my answer as well?!” Pinocchio snapped as he looked up, the irritation once more alight in his gaze.

Lampwick looked taken aback, even as Pinocchio ground his teeth together with his shoulders drawn in as he pulled his gaze down to their shoes again.

“S-sorry.” he heard him murmur, Lampwick taking the time to scoff this time around.

“Geez it’s fine, no need t’ use any of those wit’ me. You know I’ve said worse.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I-” the man shook his head, Lampwick withholding a frown as the words sunk in.

Doesn’t mean what? That he wanted to do the same? Wanted to stoop to his level?

He shook his head, revoking the thoughts any chance of taking further hold as he looked down at the man.

“It’s no big deal,” he shrugged, “B’sides, not so much I’m doubting your words jus’…” he trailed off, his hand hovering over the other’s shoulder.

It was strange how until he started dating him, things like gentle touches and hugs still felt normal. Now, even just the thought of doing that or Pinocchio trying to kiss him had his heart beating faster than any festival drum and his face warmer than the summer sun. He pulled his hand away and rubbed at the back of his neck, clearing his throat and avoiding the blue eyes that were now looking up at him. Fuck it should be illegal to look this pretty, shit.

“L-listen,” he cleared his throat again, acting that he didn’t stammer. Keep it cool, Wick. He was your best friend only three weeks ago, remember? “I can’t pretend to know what’s on your mind, bu’ given who w’s just here—” he paused and gestured towards the door, the brunette sighing as he hung his head.

“I don’t regret it. What I said I— I don’t take it back. Not really.” Pinocchio glanced up once more. “I don’t regret having what we got.” Aaaaand the look paired with the words has the older boy’s heart leaping to his throat again. “But at the same time–” The woodcarver ran a hand through his hair, the movements growing more frantic and expression more tense, “Fuck me, Lampwick! I knew she would take it like this but that doesn’t mean— I-I still wanted—”

“You were still hoping for a better reaction.” Lampwick finished, as Pinocchio huffed. Though the frustration sounded less angry now. He face, previously paler than snow was growing red, the brunette blinking rapidly as he gripped at his arms once more.

“Was that too much to ask of her?” Pinocchio murmured, glaring off to the side. “Have I- Have I sunken so low in her expectations that I can’t even get a smile out of her or what?!”

Lampwick’s eyes narrowed. “You know what she’s like.”

“But is it really too much to ask of for her to be proud just once? To approve of-of anything? To be happy with me? Am I really that much of a screw-up?” The man’s voice was barely above a whisper by that last point, his bottom lip trembling.

Fuck!

“No!” Lampwick gritted out. “Cut that shit out, you hear me?!”

“I just want to be enough for her for once.” Pinocchio’s eyes had dropped to the floor as he gripped at the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re enough. You are enough.” the red-head retorted, his eyes widening as Pinocchio’s eyes screwed shut, his shoulders shaking harder.

“Not for her!” The young woodcarver choked out, the grip still tight around his arms.

“Then forget her!” Lampwick exclaimed, the previous flutterbyes forgotten as he pulled the man closer. “Just… forget her. Her opinion matters as much as… m-much as- as rotted through wood!” he finished off, feeling a jolt under his hand as Pinocchio hiccuped.

“It matters to me! And that’s more than enough!”

Lampwick’s gaze narrowed, ignoring the thoughts that spun around in his head as he instead focused on the man he was holding. He sighed, cupping the crown of the woodcarver’s head and rested his chin on top of it. He tightly held onto the woodcarver, as the storm of emotions waged on, soaking into his vest as he listened to the man quietly sniffle. “You need a chance to grow, Pinks. Without her dictating every step for you.” he murmured.

“It’s not been easy without Jiminy. Or Papa. I don’t- I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Pretty sure half th’ realm doesn’, it’s not that huge of a deal.” Lampwick muttered quietly, “B’sides, was it really easier wit’ either of them? Be real with me here right now, was i’?” Lampwick asked, looking down at the other man. “Cause I feel you were more often left to your own devices back then as well. And if not,” He held a finger up in protest at the glare Pinocchio’s eyes were already forming as he peered up at him. “Even if I’m wrong, ya still have others. You don’t need t’ rely on her, Pinou. You’ve Eugene, Kin—dare I suggest—. That other fairy… and that ruddy Woodcutter friend—or whatever he was—of your dad’s that’s still alive somehow. Fucking…. Anthony was it?”

“Antonio.” Pinocchio corrected bluntly.

“Eh, close enough!” Lampwick shrugged, smirking as Pinocchio rolled his eyes. “Bu’ yeah you’ve… several behind ya. And you’ve,” he glanced up just a touch, just barely meeting those pretty azures as he felt his stomach turn to knots. “You’ve… you’ve me as well.” Awkward pause. “Grace, Isk and Jefferson too I guess.”

He didn’t think he hid the noise in his head as much as he would have liked to. It took all his strength to keep his leg from bouncing, yet the proximity meant Pinocchio could still hear how hard his heart was hammering in his chest.

One thought escaped containment, rolling around in his mind as he watched and waited.

Would that… be enough? Could they be enough?

“I wish I could rely on her too though,” Pinocchio murmured, Wick letting out a breath.

“Well, you can’t.” He shrugged, watching the other deflate even more. “I know tha’s not the answer ya wanna hear, bu’ look at her. She can’ even give you a congratu-fucking-lations all because that stick’s so far up her ass and she needs everyone t’ know about it.”

The sad look vanished as he glared up at him once more. “Don’t be so rude!”

“I’m just saying how it is.” Lampwick chuckled, cheekily sticking his tongue out the moment Pinocchio scoffed. “Maybe she’ll eventually suck her shit up and be nicer but for now you jus’ gotta– Jus’ gotta keep going on you’re own. Maybe that other one will be nicer ‘bout it.”

Pinocchio carded a hand through his hair and nodded. “’m sure she would. Probably already has my letter about it.”

“Then I say fuck the first fairy and get ready for what the hell the other will put ya through, yeah?” He asked with a lopsided grin, watching as the other sadly nodded. “But for now, how’s about a visit to The Pear, eh? Food’s good t’ chase all the bad shit away, and heard Gene’s cook got something new on the menu.”

Pinocchio groaned as he rubbed at his face and exhaled heavily. “It’s not ‘food poisoning’ again, is it?”

Lampwick waved him off with a snort. “That was one time and that was ‘Kin at the pot. Trust me, b- Pinks. It won’ be the death of ya. Heard it’s something good.”

The woodcarver hummed and shook his head. But his eyes seem to lighten a touch as he gazed up at the red-head once more. “I’ll hold you to your word.” A gentle smile spread across his lips, something that Lampwick felt like he hadn’t seen since last night, yet it rendered him utterly frozen to the floor. Worse yet, the tease took the opportunity that Lampwick was still close enough to stand up on his tip-toes, and press a kiss to the corner of his lips. Lampwick felt the air leave his lungs entirely.

“And if you’re wrong, good luck with dealing with my current patron.” the woodcarver whispered, any response gone from Lampwick’s head as he grew completely aware of how close they were. The startlingly blue eyes that peered up at him, cheeks still red but gaze so gentle and warm; to the breath Pinocchio exhaled close enough for him to feel it; to the hand still pressed against his chest, as Pinocchio worked to keep his balance. He even felt the weight leave once the brunette pulled back.

Lampwick’s brain was still working to catch up, even as stars danced in front of his eyes from the lack of oxygen, the one thing clear to him being the warm smile the woodcarver held on his face.

Pinocchio passed him by, fingers brushing softly yet so carefree against over his arm, Lampwick still unmoving from his spot as he felt his ears burn. The part of his arm he ad been touched on tingled, the man still feeling the touch as though it was still there even though it no longer wasn’t.

He inhaled deeply, nonchalance gone the moment the other was out of sight as he leaned against the table and looked behind him in stunned silence. He saw Pinocchio looking back curiously, though he was so fucking sure the man knew exactly what he had done. Despite having a breakdown almost moments ago, that puppet sure knew how to work his strings whenever.

Gods, fuck the bad food. This man would be the death of him first.

[missingn000]

Omg you're officially starting an ace seraphim project.. Wishing you strength and inspiration!!! I remember you vaguely mentioning an idea along these lines in your tags a month or two ago? and it was like an epiphany in my brain and I was patiently waiting to see if you'd ever post more about it so really excited now (but also no pressure at all!) :))

yeah, i am!! ahh that's so sweet that you remembered :')) it's something i've been planning since like…early april lol, but i took about a month away from it to write my sanji vs king fic and now that it's finished, i'm back babey. i too was super compelled by the fandom's collective idea of seraphim ace, and since no long fic exists exploring what a trainwreck this little angel has the potential to be, i decided to take it upon myself. i'm honestly really excited too :D and PLEASE pressure me lmao i gotta get out of my own head and start writing this monstrosity

since you reached out (tysm for doing so <3) i'll give you (and anyone else reading this) the elevator pitch i've given my friends when i first introduce this fic idea to them!

elevator pitch below cut :)

alright. the general premise of the seraphim ace fic is that vegapunk created seraphim ace (s-flame) in secret with the aim of him being like -- a safety measure, made to stop the other seraphim if necessary. since vegapunk can't produce logias, s-flame has charlotte oven's devil fruit: the heat-heat fruit, where he is able to superheat his body with virtually no upper limit due to his increased lunarian & pacifista durability. this gives him an advantage over all the other seraphim, because his fire is exponentially hotter than theirs.

the whole thing is....extremely poetic in a twisted way. vegapunk knows that hotter fire can beat less hot fire because akainu's magma is what killed ace. so he created s-flame to stop his own brothers & sister in the very same way the person he was made from was murdered.

eventually, s-flame meets luffy and the SHs when they arrive in egghead, and learns even more about the original ace. he's always been a lonely, angry kid like ace, but now he has even more turmoil towards his own existence. essentially: he doesn't want to be ace, but he knows that if he isn't ace, he isn't loved. everyone he meets mourns him and he's not even dead. he has the same relationship with ace that ace had with roger: he resents and blames ace for the way the world feels about his existence. so the more he rejects ace, the more he becomes ace.

the whole thing is one very long existential crisis about individuality, the interconnectedness of healing and grief, and s-flame reverse-engineering why ace was loved through learning about his interactions with others. it's a struggle between wanting to live up to ace's memory while also separating himself from ace's identity itself. he wants to be loved for himself, not who he's made from, so it's his journey discovering who he is, who ace was, and where to draw the line between them while forging new bonds along the way.

i'm really looking forward to this project, so thanks for the encouragement!! <333