#...does dandy like. have a in world 'thing'

[forsaken-headcanons]

Inspired from Dandy's world HC askblog(it's been 1000 years since I last HC in Dandy's world cuz of my Forsaken hyperfixation 💥)

This HC can be literally used anywhere not just Forsaken,but I will share it anyway since it's not like there's a place for universal Roblox HC

Based on animal shed fur,insect/crustacean shed shell,lizard shed skin and plant shed leaves

And sorta linked to some robloxian are more code based

Every living thing in Roblox universe sheds their old codes, the rate of shedding depends on how code based are they or how much update they needed to function for each species

But some might fail to shed their old code,John Doe is one of the examples on what could have happened if they failed to shed old code (they get corrupted)

1x1x1x1 and Noli is second example(idk,they got mutated I guess)

Third example is just death,C00lkidd died to that due to using C00lgui,which made him unable to shed code properly cuz of the code mutation and eventually died (sorry,not sorry for the angst add-on)

If their own geneticode get mutated(due to being hacker or smth),each shedding has high possibilities to mutate them further more till a point,it could cause their shedding process to have higher risk (007n7 almost died multiple times in his hacker era cuz of it)

Admin never experienced much consequences from failed shedding or mutation,since they can fix their own code if it have gone wrong

That's all ig

-randomized anon

The Dandy's World finds its way back to me eventually /silly

Shedding code for updates is so good wait. Some of them probably also 'shedded' accessories or T-shirt decal stuff entirely bc Roblox moderation did a fuck up and deleted those lol (the Two Time hair...)

yoinking this headcanon

[dandy-s-dreamway-express]

Okay.

AU Lore Explanation Time

—————————————————————————————————————————

Part I: Main Summary

Dandy’s Dreamway Express is a Dandy’s World AU that tends to have two sides to it. The first side is the wholesome and sweet dreamcore aesthetic in a way. Mostly think of pastel colors and lovely things you see in your dreams. Both in the past and now. This side of the AU is kinda like the main ordeal with the normal toons being themselves. Both kinda in character and….just as themselves. Everyone enjoying their jobs and each other’s company while on an endless dream-way express. (Yes even Shrimpo enjoys his time on the train. He just cannot show it the proper way.) Anyone and everyone is allowed to interact with the entire cast, including seasonal toons. (I REFUSE to leave those beans out.) The other side to this AU revolves around the Twisted Counterparts and the Ichor itself. You could say that the ichor is more as a mix of a hive-mind substance that does make up the toons, but also can kinda leak itself into the real world. Now the funny part is this. The reason the Dreamway Express exists as a whole is due to the AU versions of the Toon Handlers. In this case, they were the first dreamers of the Dreamway express, somehow giving it life. However, due to the decline of their health, the toons were left to themselves, kinda like canon, but rather than deteriorate in public, they hide their twisted halves of their nature. They never show their true nature. Well…..not unless if they have to. But yeah. That’s the summary

Part II: Toon Roles

Okay! Time for everyone’s job/role on the Dreamway Express! 🥳 (I may not finish first try, there are a lot of toons to write for.)

Dandy: Head Conductor

Astro: Dreamway’s Observer, Dandy’s Right Hand Man

Sprout: Head chef of the Express

Shelly: Dinosaur Exhibit Cart Curator and Director, Inventory,

Vee: Gameshow Hostess, Surveillance, Head of the Entertainment Department of the Express, Head of the Security,

Bassie: She runs everything Easter related. Has her own shop and Easter Cart where the other Easter toons reside.

Bobette: Everyone knows she runs the Christmas cart as well as events and activities. She is the one who keeps up everyone’s morale during the cold.

Cocoa: The Lady of Bunbuns. Will be the baker and decorator of Easter. She also looks out for others as extra support.

Flyte: One speedy waiter that never wastes an order, despite how fast he is. Works with the other Easter toons as well as helps his sister (yes Flutter) as back up in case something happens. He also helps with security.

Eggson: The peepaw who happily watches over the younger dreamers of the AU.

Rudie:

Ginger:

Goob:

Scraps:

[nightseeye]

Ok for those who've read/unlocked shelly's description, i have a really funny story:

It's like floor 18, me (roger) and a teagan are the only remaining members of what was an initially 6 person dandy run. 6 twisted, 7 machines, and dandy and shelly have appeared (yes filling the machines were very annoying). Teagan and I are less than delighted to find out that dandy's music almost completely and utterly drowns out the footsteps and growls shelly makes, even if he's across the map and she's much closer.

Tbh you could only rlly hear her if she was pretty much right in ur area, and you were listening hard. Honestly it mightve been a lot harder without headphones

This paired with Dandy's description, and that i think during the group cardboard cutouts where his hides her slightly, makes her twisted description kinda funny and... kinda sad, too

Descriptions for shelly and dandy under the readmore for those who want to kno:

[lilythecattt]

🗺️: "Maybe I can help with these scugs in some way? I've done some research on them in my freetime."

- Chizu Locatering (toonsona I randomly made)

[🍫]: “We would appreciate advice!… Also if you have a way to keep the Red Scug out of Shelly’s room… It keeps eating her rock collection.”

[inkandpaintsnowleopard]

OH ALSO I keep forgetting to ask this

Is Vee's microphone her tail?? If so that's peak character design and I love her even more

YEEESSSSSS it looks a little awkward on her Twisted because it’s short but yes

[inkyantace7]

So now that I’ve gotten into object shows I immediately put them into my other hyperfixation (Dandy's World). In the form of voice claims

The two I switched were Sprout and Dandy

My Sprout was originally Gordon from HLVRAI, but I changed him to be Two from TPOT. But a little less British. Sprout isn’t British

My Dandy had/has two voices, because I write him as masking/acting a lot. He has an acting voice and his normal voice, which were Bill Cipher and Benrey (also from HLVRAI), respectively. Benrey was switched to Animatic from Animatic Battle

I’m never escaping object shows (/pos it’s funny)

[katiekatdragon27]

Hello Dandy's World fans.

I've recently been playing the game on Roblox with my friends and sibling, and it's been a ton of fun! Sure, I'm horrible at it, but it's the thought that counts ig.

And don't worry, I draw normal things too.

Like these things.

But it's mostly angst and unhinged things lol.

Below is a silly goofy Shiny Shrimp (that's the ship name I made up for Glisten x Shrimpo lol) AU that's just angst and tragedy and bullying Shrimpo emotionally lol:

OKAY SO CONTEXT: I thought it would be funny if Shrimpo had to keep Glisten company while exploring the floors but was also the one to witness his change into his full twisted form and almost die lol.

SO, I'd imagine it going down like this.

Basically, during one of the missions below, Glisten doesn't make it to the elevator in time. Shrimpo gets wind of this and gets very pissed. Despite everyone's protests, Shrimpo decides to join on of their runs to gain iquor, but mostly to fine Glisten.

And boy does he find him and all his shattered face glory.

Glisten: "Shrimpo!?" Shrimpo: "G-Glisten?" Glisten: "I knew you'd come back for me!"

Shrimpo attempts to leave the situation, seeing that Glisten is indeed twisted, despite Glisten's insistence that he is not. As Shrimpo tries to leave, Glisten gets more attached, constantly asking Shrimpo to not leave and to stay with him. Another person in the party (haven't decided who yet), tells Shrimpo to stay with Glisten and keep him company until all the machines are done. Shrimpo reluctantly agrees (and says "I HATE YOU" a couple times) and spends the rest of the round with Glisten.

However, the whole time Shrimpo's trying not to get attached because deep down, he knows it's too late for Glisten.

At the end of the round, everyone is called to go to the elevator. Shrimpo goes to leave. Glisten tries to block him off. Shimpo forces his way through. Glisten gets pissed and rips off his ribbons in anger, letting the infection take over his whole body. As Glisten's shifting, Shrimpo grabs one of his discarded ribbon pieces and beelines it to the elevator (as fast as Shrimpo can run). However, it is not fast enough, and Glisten easily catches up. He knocked over Shrimpo and lunges at him, ready take him out.

That's when Goob comes in. While everyone is trying to get the elevator to close faster, Goob grabs Shrimpo from below Glisten and pulls him into the elevator. Glisten hits the floor and breaks his face even more. As he gets up, he shouts at Shrimpo, who is shaking in Goob's arms watch Glisten break down.

Glisten: "YOU PROMISED YOU'D STAY WITH ME-- YOU PROMISED!"

Then, the doors close. Glisten is gone, and Shrimpo is angry and traumatized. How fun.

Shrimpo does not do well after the whole incident. He is much more reserved, but still just as angry. Except to Goob. Goob saving him gave Shrimpo a soft spot for the guy. Also, Goob let's Shrimpo vent to him like the supportive icon he is.

Shrimpo: I think I miss my partner, Goob.

But he's not the only toon Shrimpo talks to.

Vee: "Geez. This crying is ruining your "tough guy" persona."

My sibling gave me the silly idea to have Shrimpo and Vee be "friends" in this bc Shrimp hates Dandy waaaaaaaaaay more after the Glisten incident. And Vee hates Dandy in general, so boom, situation friendship. However, Vee sucks at being a supportive friend.

And some silly stuff my friends requested. Shrimpo chucking Dandy into the stratosphere and Goob being Goob. Healing the world one crappy doodle at a time.

Thank you for looking at the dooles and mindless rant of a grown adult about a Roblox horror game for 9-year-olds. You're a real one. Have a good day broksies.

[celiababy]

Ain't Right part 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel thinks you deserve better.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral f!receiving, cockwarming, size kink, skinny dipping, angsty, kinda asshole/grumpy Joel, mention of alcohol

Celia's note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG. but i threw in that much request angst i hope yall enjoy!!!!! Also happy valentines day!!! peace n luv fr

Aint Right part 1 Ain't Right part 2

Recently, life has been great for you.

Winter was gone as fast as it came, and spring started to take root in Jackson. Your favorite season.

The months that passed since Christmas had been like a dream. You and Joel's relationship had been all unicorns and rainbows—well, to you, anyway.

Finally, you were starting to pry open the gates to Joel's thoughts. Becoming close with him meant so much to you, even when he would off-handedly share information about himself by accident, you'd immediately commit it to long-term memory.

He didn't like to talk about himself much, but when he did, you were all ears.

Joel, on the other hand, didn't have to try as hard with you.

There was a constant flow of words out of your mouth, especially around him. You couldn't help it, really. You talked when you were nervous, and you were always nervous around Joel—that never went away.

But all in all, you were overflowing with happiness.

Joel, however, was feeling a little differently.

Ever since this relationship with you started, he's had this subtle ache about it.

His insecurities of being an old man were eating at him, day by day. His conscious just couldn't stop pestering him with the idea that you deserved better.

He felt that by being intimate with you, as much as he liked it, was holding you back from living your life.

By allowing you to indulge in this relationship with him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was setting your life up for failure.

He was picturing some White Fang situation where you were some wild animal that was getting too close to him, and in order to prevent you from getting hurt by domestication, he'd have to throw rocks at you and tell you to 'go on an' git'. Even though he deeply cared about you.

These insecurites really came to the surface whenever you two were in bed together.

He was 56 years old, for crying out loud. He had two rounds in him max, anything more might give him a heart attack.

He'd clock the little disappointed pout you'd make when he couldn't go again, even when you tried to act otherwise. He was just in his head about the entire thing—which was so unlike him.

You were doin' things to him, thats for damn sure.

Joel couldn't deny the affect you had on him anymore. You were starting to become a top priority; he was unable to stop himself from putting you first.

How was it so easy for you to become to important in his life?

He pondered this thought while coming back from a supply run, riding in on horseback. The sound of hooves crunching twigs and rocks was an oddly theraputic sound, one that helped stop him from thinking so much.

Upon his return, Joel drops off his supplies and guides his horse back into its stable. He gives it a few loving pats before leaving, walking down the main road with the breeze in his hair.

His eyes scan the people crowding the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of his favorite face.

And he does.

Eventually, Joel spots you, helping an older lady up her porch steps. You’re smiling, eyes sparkling like everything in the world was all fine and dandy.

It never got easier seeing you wear cooler clothes in public.

Sure, he's seen your naked body plenty of times, but there was something about you in a tank top, jean shorts and cowboy boots that just did things to him.

His heart tugs in his chest as he watches you complete the kind act, skipping back down the steps once the lady waves you goodbye.

That’s when you see him, across the street, just staring at you.

Your face lights up like fireworks when you notice. It always did. But Joel never got tired of seeing it.

He watches you jog his way, nearly running straight into him but managing to stop yourself last second.

“Hey! How’d that run go?” You ask, beaming up at him and trying your hardest not to smack his lips with yours.

“Good.” He nods, clenching his jaw.

Jesus, you looked so good right now—Joel was having a very hard time focusing on what to say when you were distracting him with your bangin’ bod.

“Good.” You copy, finding a moment to assess him. He seemed tense, more tense than usual. Joel knows you’re about to ask him what’s wrong—and he can’t face that question right now.

So he speaks before he knows what he’s saying. “You should come out with me again, next time, I mean. Actually try n' help instead of.. flirt.”

He's disgusing his intense feelings for you with an insult, because of course he is.

You scoff at his diss, rolling your eyes. “You loved my flirtin’.” You copied his texan drawl to mock him, earning you a glare.

“Well, I’d love to. Is it a date?” You purr, stepping into his personal space, prompting Joel to make quick use of his self control.

If he could act on his impulse, he would have bent you over and fucked you right there on the sidewalk.

He clears his throat before nodding. “Sure. Tomorrow. It’s a date.” He bites out like it pains him, because in truth, he'd rather take you out to dinner or something than another stupid supply run.

You’re smiling again, swaying on your feet. You make a few glances around to make sure no one’s watching before popping up and kissing him on his cheek.

“Kay, see you then." You chirp ever so sweetly, walking away in your small jean shorts.

You were really tugging on his heart strings.

When tomorrow comes, you're sitting on your porch swing, waiting for Joel to come and get you.

You were excited—mainly because you two would be out of sight from prying eyes. You could act on all your impulses.

You didn't mind people figuring you two out, you're kind of sure they already had, but you felt that Joel did care, and you wanted to respect his boundaires. Even though he never made those clear.

But, you felt you were pushing it with that kiss on the cheek yesterday, and you didn't want him upset with you.

The sudden thought made you worry.

Maybe he was upset with you. He did glare at you yesterday.

You probably did something, your anxious mind tells you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts due to the sound of hooves clopping against the road. Looking up, you're met with the pleasure-inducing sight of Joel.

He's walking with a horse beside him, holding its lead with a trained hand.

He's wearing that faded gray shirt and those jeans that seem like they're hanging on by a thread. So casual.

But, then you take a closer look at his appearance. He...trimmed his beard and attempted to slick back his hair...?

...Was he trying to look nice for you?

"Did you get all pretty for me?" You ask with a giddy smile, skipping down your steps.

He grumbles something incoherent under his breath before rolling his eyes. Yet, you swear you can see the faintest bit of blush on his cheeks. "You ready to go?" He asks, gesturing to the horse.

He's trying to change the subject, but you need to let him know you appreciate his efforts.

"You look really good, Joel. I mean—you always look good, but today especially." You bring your hand up to feel his hair, smiling happily. He can tell you're being geniune, but he's never been good with compliments.

"Thanks, sweetheart—now get on the damn horse." He sounds exasperated, but theres a small smile on his lips.

He helps you up onto the back before climbing on himself. "Wrap yer arms 'round me. Don't fall off." He murmurs, steering the horse towards the gates.

You slide up so that your chest is pressed against his back, and outstretch your arms to wrap around him. Once you two successfully leave the town and no one is watching, that's when you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade.

It's cozy. It's intimate. It's Joel.

You could fall asleep against him like this.

He remains silent because he knows how peaceful you feel right now. He wants to let you enjoy the moment.

You're admiring the forest scenary, occasionally resting your eyes. You don't know where Joel is taking you—maybe he's heading straight towards the middle of nowhere to drop you off and leave. Getting rid of you probably would've been in his best interest.

You're smiling at the thought because you know yourself. Even if he did do that, you'd find a way back to him. Like a loyal dog.

"Wait," Your voice cracks through the silence. Joel stops the horse, turning his head back to look at you. "Is that a lake?" He turns his head to where you're looking, his eyes catching the blue water that you're so enamoured by.

"Don't know what else it would be."

You roll your eyes at his smartassary. "...Can we go?"

"To the lake?" He reiterates, a confused look on his face. "'N do what?"

You shrug your shoulders, feeling stupid for asking all the sudden.

Immediately, Joel notices how you shrink into yourself. He wants to punch himself in the dick because he's being an asshole.

To fix his mistake, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and steers the horse down to the body of water.

You're giddy again in no time, a soft but excited squeal escaping your throat.

He manages to find a small clearing within the brush; open tall grass, a fallen tree trunk perfect for sitting, and direct access to the lake.

"So pretty." You muse, simply in awe of the nature around you.

You didn't really leave town much—only when you had to. So, seeing stuff like this, really meant a lot to you.

Joel gets off the horse and immediately turns to help you down. His hands find themselves on your hips while yours latch onto his shoulders.

He lowers you effortlessly, his grasp lingering for longer than it needed to.

Your skin lights on fire at his touch, dirty thoughts instantly flooding your brain.

The lake, the seculsion, the tension...there was really only one thing you were thinking about right now.

"Hey, what if we just...didn't go on that supply run?" You muse, avoiding eye contact for a moment because no matter how close you've gotten with Joel, he still made you nervous.

He shoots you a questioning look, which gives you the idea to show rather than tell.

You step closer to the waters edge, beginning to take off your boots. Joel's watching with that stern look, but it quickly fades, replaced with lust when you start shedding off your clothes.

First your shorts, then your tank top.

"Let's go swimming!" You say with that happy smile, the one that makes his heart beat soar.

He can't stop his eyes from devouring every inch of your stark naked body.

Not only did Joel enjoy your pert breasts and supple ass, he was also equally obsessed with the not overtly sexual things about you. Your hair, shoulders, collar bone, forearms, the curve of your spine—everything, he was consumed by it all.

He realizes that he needs to answer you, but all that comes out is a scoff.

"Hey—no. We don't know what the hells in that water." He huffs as his boner peaks through his jeans.

"Fine, guess I'll swim alone then." You say nonchalantly, knowing if you went in, odds were, Joel wouldn't be far behind.

And you were right.

As soon as you enter the cool water, you see Joel starting to undress in the corner of your eye.

You pretened you're not watching, and eventually he joins you in the lake.

You've waded out rather far into the water, waiting to speak until you know Joel is close.

"Doesn't it feel nice?" You ask, letting your body float above the surface, limbs outstretched while you stared up at the fluffy clouds.

If you could do this forever, you would. Naked as the day you were born, floating in warm spring water with Joel's company—maybe this was heaven.

Sure felt like it.

You almost don't even notice Joel's palm run up your shin and thigh, only when his hand lightly drifts over your lower stomach, is when you become all too aware.

Yet, he doesn't venture south.

Instead, he makes a path further up your stomach, then your ribs, then the valley of your breasts, until he rests his hand over your heart.

You stare at his face as he completes this insane act, completely baffled at the fact that he seemed so entranced and calm, while you were trying not to freak out.

He notices your stare, and finally meets your eye contact. No words leave his mouth—he can't seem to find any that feel right.

But he's thinking about how beautiful you are. How sweet and doting, how smart and witty. Everything about you encompassed into a few short words just didn't feel worthy enough.

But you can't just leave things the way they are.

Slowly, you situate yourself around him, attaching to his body like a koala bear. Your arms slide around his shoulders while your legs wrap around his waist.

Skin to skin, face to face, so fucking intense.

Joel's strong arms find themselves around your torso, keeping you close to him.

"Yeah, it does feel nice." Joel replies, his voice soft, his eyes even softer.

You smile, big and geniune, a feeling of bliss taking over you. "Isn't this so much better than some silly supply run?"

Joel rolls his eyes, which spurs you on even more.

"Come on, admit it; you'd rather be out here with me, than some stinky convience store looting pills." You tighten your legs a little around his torso, feeling your cunt become flush with his bare stomach.

You feel a surge of pride when his breath hitches and his erect cock prods at your ass.

But it doesn't take long for his expression to fall back into its natural scowl.

"M'not admitin' shit." He murmurs, bringing a hand up to move your wet hair over your shoulder and onto your back. It's an absentminded motion, one that Joel isn't really thinking about doing.

He just felt the urge to touch you.

You giggle at him, dropping your forehead to his shoulder to laugh.

Joel huffs, trying to stop smirking because your giggle is contagious. "Quit." Is all he says, shaking his head. "Can't believe you got me out 'ere doin' this shit." He grumbles, adjusting his hold on you slightly.

"What 'shit'?" You mimick him and his texan drawl, earning you a stern glare.

"Naked in a lake like m'some fuckin' teenager." He speaks with an unamused expression, before his eyes land back onto you and his gaze softens. "What're you doin' to me, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question, but he says it like he's truly desperate for an answer.

You're not sure how to respond. His eye contact is making your brain all foggy.

It's silent.

You can only hear the rustling water, your breathing, and the general nature sounds in the distance.

Joel knows he confused you with his words, so he takes a moment to look away.

"Alright," He huffs out eventually. "Time to go."

He doesn't give you a chance to protest because he's already walking back to the shore, his arm remaining secured tightly around your back, basically carrying you.

You're not ready to leave, but you know Joel is, so you just opt for a dejected sigh.

He lets you back down on your feet when you're both on the grass, lingering his hand on the small of your back when he picks up your clothes. He uncrinckles your shirt before opening it up so you could easily put it on.

"This is becoming a habit of yours." You murmur softly, putting on the tank top and cringing at the way it sticks to your wet skin.

"Mm?" Joel doesn't know what you're referring to. He's never realized his pattern of clothing you. It was a simple act, but one you found endearing.

"Nothin'." You chirp, sliding on your shorts and boots.

Joel looks at you assessingly while buttoning his jeans back up, sucking in his stomach to zip them.

You're looking right back at him, admiring the way his wet hair looks, how the grays peak out in the most perfect way.

In a nervous manner, you shift on your feet, sliding your hands down into your jean pockets. "You sure you don't wanna...fool around?" You muse, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Joel smirks down at the ground as he continues to button up his shirt, shaking his head.

"You're too late kid, should've asked when we were naked." He's teasing, walking back over to the horse and gesturing for you to come.

You groan out, dragging your feet as you walk over to him and the horse. You were being dramatic, and Joel see's right through it.

"Quit whinin'. C'mon," He mutters, grabbing you by the hips to hoist you back onto the saddle.

"You're no fun, old man." You mumble, which freezes Joel in his tracks.

He doesn't know why, but that one off-handed comment ignites a blazing string of destructive thoughts.

As if he wasn't already insecure enough about being old and no fun.

His brain is jump-starting the self-depricating train of thought he had grown accustomed to, only this time, it had more fuel because you unknowingly confirmed it.

Of course, that isn't what you meant at all. It was just a teasing little comment, one you didn't think twice about. You weren't actually upset—at all.

Nevertheless, Joel's already in deep.

Slowly, he swings himself behind you onto the horse, grabbing the reins and starting forward.

You're quick to notice his demeanor, but choosing to keep your mouth shut.

The entire ride back is silent.

It was just like the ride there, only with a more suffocating air.

You have an inkling, but you have no idea the extent of his turmoil behind you.

Eventually, you two make it back to the stables. Joel helps you down from the horse, moving like a robot with no facial expression.

He's got that look in his eye that worries you. Every atom in your body wants to ask him what's wrong, but you also don't want to pry.

However, Joel would never open up to you unprompted. So, you at least try.

Your hand drifts upwards to his face, smoothing some of his hair down by his ear. "Is everything okay?" You finally ask, your voice purposefully soft and light so you don't startle him like he was some wild animal.

He inhales through his nose and clenches his jaw.

Oh.

Something was really wrong.

Your gaze goes from slightly weary to concerned in a flash, nervously biting down on your lower lip. "Is there anything I can do to help?" You ask, very evidently willing to do whatever he needed.

Joel had never been good with emotional timing. At the end of the day, he was still a man.

“We’ve gotta stop this.” He blurts.

You’re still for a moment, confused with his abrupt and vague words. You wait patiently for an elaboration.

Eventually, one comes, to Joel’s own dismay.

“We can’t see each other anymore—not like this.”

A beat passes.

Then another.

And then another.

You’re frozen with dread.

It’s like your body has forgotten all functions as you sit there and stare at him.

Surprisingly, the only thing you’re able to think of in this life changing moment, is the Christmas party at Maria and Tommy’s.

You’re thinking about how Joel fucked you in the guest bedroom, and how he said he didn’t want you having sex with anyone else.

You remember how happy you felt—like you two were exclusive or something.

How stupid were you?

With a quick intake of air, you swallow and look away.

“Did I do something wrong?” You croak, your voice akin to a wilting flower.

Joel is wracked with guilt the moment he hears you. But his mind is forcing him to do this.

“No—no. You haven’t done anythin’ wrong. This is all me, I fucked up and let this go on for too long.”

His answer provides no relief.

“But, I thought we—I thought you liked me?” You’re stumbling over your words because you’re so distraught, trying to blink away your persistent tears.

Shit.

Joel can hardly look at you. He would crumble and die if he did—the sadness in your expression is like several stabs to the gut.

Truth is, he did like you.

Thats why he wants to end things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can manage, head hanging down to look at the dirt.

You’re not looking at him either, instead opting to blankly stare at one of the horses in the stable.

“So,” You start, your voice cracking because you’ve started crying at this point. “You don’t wanna hook up, does that mean we can still hang out?”

Joel takes a big deep breath before answering.

"It would be best if we didn't see each other at all." Finally, he makes eye contact with you, and immediately regrets it.

You look like you've just been shot, for christsake—might as well have.

It was like he just tore your heart out, threw it to the ground, curb-stomped it, and kicked it down a gutter.

"Okay," you murmur, nodding slowly, trying to seem some-what chill about things. Inside, however, it was like World War III. "Uhm, I'm just gonna go home." Your voice is a croak, and Joel watches with the utmost remorse as you walk away.

It feels like shock.

Was this a break up? Were you even together in the first place? Why didn't he want to see you at all? Questions, questions, and more questions rattle in your brain as you shuffle away, hands shaking and eyes pouring.

You look down at the ring Joel gifted you on your finger, debting whether you should take it off or not.

Joel feels awful.

And it's not like the awful he felt the very first time he regected you—this time it's far more painful. It's a deeper wound, an uglier, gross, puss-infested cut that keeps getting worse the farther you walk away.

He thought he'd feel some relief.

He thought that after ending things, he would be rid of that nagging voice in his head.

But no, it remained.

Only now, it barked thoughts of wrong-doing.

'Why would you do that? Things were going great, you've fucked everything. You just broke her heart—’ and it goes on and on and on.

For a moment, the panic he feels registers in his mind as a heart attack. Thats what it felt like, anyway.

He has to brace himself against one of the wood beams in the barn, aggressively rubbing his chest to try and get his heart rate normal. Joel loses his breath in the process, not realizing that he's having a panic attack.

Whatever happens next, you don't see.

You never looked back after you walked away. *** "I don't know why you're all caught up about this, Joel." Tommy admits, a disappointed expression on his face.

Joel glares at his younger brother from the bar top, clearly disgruntled by Tommy's inability to understand his side of the situation.

It had been exactly 17 hours since Joel cut things off with you. He'd been drinking for at least 10 of those hours.

Somewhat drunkenly, he had told Tommy a very short and curt version of what happened.

But he got the picture. Tommy sighs, hanging his head for a minute before bringing it back up to speak again. "All m'sayin' is, it's the end of the damn world, Joel. Her 'future' ain’t graunteed; she'll be lucky if she makes it past 30 with the way things are. She's been 'round long enough to know that herself, n'for some fuckin' reason, she wants you—"

"She don't know what the hell she wants."

"See—that's where you're wrong, Joel." Tommy slams the whiskey glass that he was cleaning down on the bar, fed up and frustrated. "I've known 'er longer than you. She's a smart girl n'you're sellin' her short. Wake the hell up." He bites out before walking away, clearly finished with the conversation.

He had been watching and listening to Joel mop and groan about it all day and night—he had enough.

Other than the anger from being talked to in that manner welling inside of Joel, there was also a moment of clarity.

As much as it killed him to admit, Tommy was right.

He was selling you short.

The world is too ugly and fucked up for him not to act like everyday might be his last. He would be stupid to not just settle down and be happy with you for however long he had left.

Shit.

All alone in Tipsy Bison, Joel was slowly beginning to realize how majorly he screwed up.

He ruined things because he was too damn scared.

He didn't think there was a worse feeling than this—dealing with this huge fucking mistkae.

He wasn't sure if he would be able to come back from how things ended.

That look that you had in your eyes...Fuck. Joel didn't think he even deserved a second chance.

But goddammit if he didn't try.

After throwing the rest of his whiskey back, Joel got up from the barstool and hurriedly walked out, slamming the doors behind him.

He marches all the way to your place, ignoring whoever tried to talk to him on the way.

He had to do this. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't.

Finally, he makes it to your quaint little home, haulting in front of it. There is some imaginary force stopping him, something pulling him back.

It's that nagging voice in his head again, the one that caused this whole mess in the first place.

But this time, he ignores it, and trudges up your porch steps.

Joel knocks rather forcefully, his jaw clenching when you don't answer within seconds.

He bangs on the door again with his fist, hard, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

When you still don't answer, he enters anyway with your spare key (he always kept it on him), calling out your name as soon as he steps inside.

You hear him from your bed upstairs, though you honestly think you're hallucinating. You've been crying for hours, the only sound in your ears were your sniffles and sobs.

His heavy footsteps seem to get louder and louder, and when he calls out your name outside you're door, that's when you realize you weren't hallucinating at all.

You sit up just as Joel opens your door, your eyes wide with shock and tears.

He takes a couple steps inside before he sees how utterly devastated you looked. The sight of you renders him immoveable.

He feels…like the biggest asshole-asshat-douchebag-fuckwad-dickhead thats ever walked the planet.

“Why…are you here?” Your broken voice asks, trying your best to hold back tears.

Even after all he did, you still spoke so softly, all your respect for him still there.

He had talked himself up the entire walk over, but all his words were dying on his tongue.

He was beginning to think that there was nothing he could say that would make what he did right.

“Babygirl I—”

He sees you psychically flinch at his voice, and it makes his heart break all over again.

His feet carry him to the edge of your bed, hands coming out to hold your face.

You’re not sure how to process his touch, not sure how to process any of what’s happening, but you’re trying your best.

“I was wrong,” his thumb is wiping off the tear stains on your cheeks, a forced gentleness to his touch. “So fuckin’ wrong, babygirl. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Upon hearing his words, you can’t stop the floodgate of your tears. You start bawling, your shoulders shaking with each sob.

“I was so scared.” You cry, bringing your hands up to latch onto him. You wanted to explain more, explain why you were scared—because having Joel and then suddenly not having him, was like ripping your heart out.

He can’t scoop you up in his arms fast enough.

He gets in the bed with you, lifting you onto his lap while he cradles your head to his chest, kissing the top of your scalp.

"M'not lettin' you go. I promise." He husks, his grip on you strong.

And Joel kept this promise.

He held you the entire night, ensuring that you were secure and warm.

In the morning, you immediately asked what changed his mind.

"I was frustrated." He starts, exhaustion etched into his face. "I couldn't understand why you wanted me. Felt I was keeping you from some great life—a young husband n' some white picket fence. But..life here is probably as good as it's gonna get. And this," He looks to the both of you, alluding to the relationship you shared. "Is really fuckin' good."

Your heart is crumbling at his confession.

Discovering that he spent so much time insecure about things, both infuriated and saddened you.

When you were about to respond and explain away his worries, he speaks again.

"M'not lettin' you go. What I did was a mistake. M'sorry."

You're crying again, sniffling softly against him.

"You should've just fuckin' talked to me," You whimper, burying your face into his neck. "I could've—”

"Ain't nothin' you could'a done. You never did anythin' wrong." Joel reassures, pulling you from his shoulder so he can look at your face. "You gon' forgive me?"

"Obviously," you mumble, looking at him with a fake frustrated expression. "I meant it when I said I've always been yours."

And just like that, things were resolved.

You brought your hand down to grip his flannel, sighing into his chest. Joel also sighed in relief, realizing that you weren't going anywhere.

To raise the spirits in the room, you crane your neck up to look up at him, a soft smile playing at your lips.

"M'still mad at you. How are you gonna make it up to me?" Initally, you weren't really insinuading anything sexual—you were thinking he could take you for dinner or ice cream or something.

But Joel has something different in mind.

He gently grabs your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you how he wanted. His tongue is warm in your mouth, his mustache prickly against your face.

When he breaks away, you're out of breath, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I got an idea." Joel mumbles, carressing your jawline with his thumb.

Slowly, he sits up only to position himself between your thighs. With his calloused hands, he slides his palm up the planes of your legs until he reaches your pants.

You shiver when he dips his fingers under your waist band, pulling them down agonizingly slowly.

"This okay?" He asks in a gentle tone, one that makes your stomach do flips.

"Yes," You say immediately and breathlessly. "Very okay."

The corners of his mouth turn up to resemble a smirk, before his gaze returns back to the area between your legs. He runs his fingers down your clothed slit, feeling the way your wetness coated the stringy fabric.

You let out a soft gasp, slightly bucking your hips, hungry for more of his touch.

He plays there for a while before finally taking your underwear off, setting it somewhere on the bed.

Joel inhales through his nose when he sees your glistening cunt, trying to not cum in his pants at just the sight. He doesn't stop his impulse to pull your folds apart, running his thumb along your lips.

He's being so slow and gentle—it’s making your heart rate each dangerous levels.

His thumb then ventures up to lovingly rub your clit, his eyes scanning your face to watching your reaction.

Your legs are shaking as you kept them apart for Joel, your hands fisting the sheets as you cope with the sensations he's allowing you.

Your chest is heaving up and down and your eyes are glazed over with a hazy fog—one that Joel loves to see.

Then, out of nowhere, Joel lowers his head and connects his lips to your clit.

The act makes you jolt, mostly because you weren't expecting it.

His tongue laps at you, slowly at first, but then something shifts in Joel.

It's like the hunger for your cunt overwhelms him, and his grip on your thighs tighten. Within seconds, he's devouring you like a man starved, licking long strips up your cunt before focusing on sucking your clit.

You can't stop the moans and mewls slipping past your lips, and you don't really want to. You want Joel to know how good he's making you feel.

"OhhhfuckJoel," You whine, shooting your hands down to grab his salt and pepper hair. He focuses solely on your bundle of nerves with his tongue, using his fingers to give your desperately empty hole some attention.

When he slides two fingers inside, you effectively fall apart.

Tear prick in the lining of your eyes, your thighs clamp around his head as you cry out his name.

The fact that he's never eaten you out before and he's been this good at it the entire time, felt criminal. You honestly might've been more offended that he waited so long to reveal this talent than when he tried to end things.

"Dontstopdontstopdontstop," You sob, feeling yourself reach that climax you craved.

You come with a loud moan, and Joel lets you ride it out on his tongue and fingers.

When your body goes limp, thats when Joel lets up. He brings his head out from your legs and slips his digits out of your spasming hole.

You mewl at the feeling, looking at him with teary eyes.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" You asks, voice quiet and cracked.

"M'fifty-six years old—been around the block, babygirl." He's face is glistening with your juices, and his mouth is wearing that lopsided smile of his. It makes you wanna smile back.

"...Damn. So I'm not the first, huh?" You huff, not upset in the slightest, just wanting to tease him a little.

He chuckles and unzips his pants, letting his cock slap against his stomach. "No sweetheart, you ain't the first." He rasps, effortlessly manhandling you to straddle his lap. "But you are gon be my last."

His hands caress the plush surface of your hips, kneading them like dough while his eyes scan your face.

You're blushing so hard, your face probably looks like a spanked ass.

He really did have a knack for leaving you breathless with those one-liners of his.

You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders, looking back down into his big brown eyes. All you can do is stare, because your brain is too focused on how hard your heart is beating to come up with a response.

"What? Now you ain't got nothin' to say?" He husks, his massive palm venturing down to your grab and squeeze your ass. Your back straightens and your lips part like you want to say something—but you're not quite sure what. "C'mon, use those pretty lips."

An idea pops into your brain.

"I'd rather use these lips," You whisper close to his mouth as you raise your hips up to hover over his member, slowly dipping his tip inside your warm hole.

"Fuck," Joel grunts, exhaling through his nose.

You grin at his reaction, lowering yourself down further with bated breath. You watch as his head lolls back and his grip tightens on your waist.

"What? Now you have nothing to say?" You mock, even though you're equally as breathless as he is.

He flashes you a glare before sliding a hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hand doesn't let you break away from his lips, and you don't plan to.

His tongue establishes dominance in your mouth, which you eagerly let happen. It's passionate, deep, bordering on punishing—sometime during, he manages to rip your top off, leaving you completely nude. But sooner or later, you both decide breathing might be a good idea.

You break away, chests heaving, mouths panting.

Eventually, you sink all the way down on him, giggling deliriously when you make eye contact again. You decide to forget your fake little fued, nuzzling your head into his neck.

"Have I ever told you how big your dick is?" You mewl, squirming your hips around a bit but not lifting them up and down. It has Joel reeling.

His hands are holding you so tight, you're sure that it'll leave a bruise. "No," Joel huffs out rather distractedly, his eyes laser-focused on the way your cunt is gushing all over his lap. But you swear you can see the faintest blush on his tan skin.

"Well—your dick is real big." You whisper nearly inaudibly, making Joel snap his gaze back to your face. A lazy smile curls at your lips before you begin dragging you tight cunt up and down on his violently erect cock.

Joel shakes his head in disbelief, as he often does, but is unable to answer becase the feeling of being inside you is rendering him speechless. His hand absent-mindedly dips down to rub your clit—the act has you doubling over onto his shoulder, starting to bounce on him like your life depended on it.

"OhJoel, Iloveitsomuch," You blabble into his ear, noticing how he had taken the reigns at this point. He was manually lifting your hips, bringing them down with intense vigor.

He was stretching you out so good and his tip was so fucking deep—you were having a hard time staying conscious and not going brain dead.

It appears Joel's in the same boat too. "Fuck—you're killin' me." He grunts, bucking his hips up to meet you.

You giggle airily before immediately getting your karma—his dick paired with the position and the way his face looked—your cunt clenches down on him and you cum hard.

Your body jolts as you grab onto him, not expecting him to keep fucking you. But his grip on your hips doesn't falter, and Joel continues to bounce you up and down.

The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt. Just letting him manhandle your body and do what he wanted was a surprising relief—even if you did just come.

You're reduced to whimpers and moans as you slump into his chest, letting him ground you and fuck your abused cunt.

Finally, slams you down one final time, unloading deep into your warmth. His groans sound like music to yours hears, especially because you know it's you that's making him feel so good.

He's panting in your ear, slowly starting to move his hands up to wrap around your torso.

He's hugging you before you can register it; his big arms securing you tightly to his chest while you both tried to catch your breaths.

Seconds pass...which turn into minutes, and you're wondering if Joel ever plans on letting you go.

He's made no efforts to remove his dick from inside you—it's soft now, but still buried deep nonetheless.

Your pussy will occasionally flutter around him, which'll earn a soft sigh from his lips.

You place a soft kiss on his temple before straightening your back to look at his face. "You tryin' to make sure your seed takes or something'?" You murmur, that teasing lilt in your voice that Joel is all too familiar with.

"Somethin' like that." He mutters into your chest, pulling you down with him to lay on the bed. "Want me to pull out?" He asks after a moment, scanning your face for any traces of displeasure.

You nestle into his chest, hooking your leg over his waist to lodge him deeper inside. "Never."

You and Joel fuck all day, all night and even into the morning. With, of course, breaks in between so Joel can recharge his stamina.

It happens multiple times in your bed, in the shower, on the couch, in the hallway, and even in the kitchen come morning.

Joel was making coffee while you were traipsing around with just his flannel on—humming along to some made-up song. It was like you two were an old married couple; him hovering over the moka pot and you scowering the fridge for some breakfast.

"Blueberry pancakes orrrr...." Joel watches as your head is stuck in the fridge, trying to find ingredients for meals. "Blueberry pancakes."

He snorts. "Surprise me." He huffs sarcastically, knowing he'd be eating a plate of blueberry pancakes.

You grinned and started making the batch, feeling Joel's eyes all over you because of the way his flannel was slipping off your shoulder because it was far too big on you.

His stare was turning you on—so you just bent yourself over the cool surface of the countertop and Joel did the rest.

Eventually, your safari of fun had to stop sometime during lunch. You both had succesfully cleaned yourselves and had started dressing for the day.

"I just told Maria I'd help set up." You murmur distractedly, tying your hair up in the bathroom mirror. Maria was holding a little town party in one of the recreational centers, and asked you, as well as some others to help her with the decorations.

There's a pause before Joel steps into the tiny bathroom, situating himself behind you and sliding his large hand over your stomach. He places a soft kiss to your head before dropping his hands to softly squeeze your hips.

"I'll walk you there."

A beat.

"You will?" He nods in confirmation, which has you turning around to look at him. You smile and tilt your head playfully. "You gonna walk me to first period too?"

Joel immediately rolls his eyes and scoffs, though you swear you can see him smirk.

"Smartass." He huffs out, grabbing your forearms to move you out of the way.

"Kidding." You chime, leaning on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. You weren't sure why you were so surprised by his offer, but you could tell it was a sign of something.

Maybe he wasn't stressed about people finding out about you two anymore. He never said that he was—but you could tell.

And it wasn't like he was embarrassed of you or anything—he's just always been a private person. It wasn't anyone's business who he was falling asleep next to every night.

But you—he'd be willing to change that for you.

When you both are ready, you exit your house, locking the door behind you. You look up to see your neighbor watching as you and Joel descend your porch steps.

You never liked her—gossipy woman who was always sticking her nose in places it didn't belong.

Quickly, your gaze snaps to his face, wanting to see if he was okay or anxious or whatever it may be.

But Joel's just looking right back down at you. "Lead the way, pretty lady." He murmurs lowly, his jaw clenched but his eyes soft.

You smile, and fall into step with him as you both walk down the sidewalk. The birds are chirping, the breeze feels amazing, and Joel is cracking smiles at your jokes.

Life felt good again.

Suddenly, Tommy appears out of nowhere, as he often does, blocking you and Joel's path.

You freeze, trying to keep a neutral face. You still weren't sure how to act around people with Joel, so you were just planning to play if off like you guys were just two buddies walking or whatever.

"Hey," Tommy greets, looking at you and then Joel, his eyebrows pinched together like he was confused at seeing the two of you in the same vicinity.

Oh. He probably knew what happened, or bits and pieces of it.

For some reason, you feel anxious that Joel might be feeling anxious, so you look down at your feet and nervously fidget with your hands.

"What're you two doin'?" Tommy asks, a detective look in his eyes as he shifted on his feet.

Joel clears his throat before looking down and grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers with his calloused grip. He can't help but glare at Tommy with a stern face, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

Your breath catches.

Tommy's eyes venture down to your joined hands, then you, then Joel.

After a beat, a sharp and knowing grin spreads across his face.

"Well I'll be damned." THE END.

[bunni-v1]

Oh, I would absolutely love to find out (in response to the post about Reader treating his minions like kids)! How do you think Shadow Milk would be like as a father? How would he treat his kid? :)

I don’t think Shadow Milk likes kids… but I also think he loves kids. Does that make sense? Like, he finds kids snotty and annoying, but they’re also really funny. They do stupid stuff and they’re so simple, it almost makes all their annoying habits cute. Almost.

He doesn’t really think too hard about having kids, mostly because… why would he? He’s an immortal god, he doesn’t really need to reproduce for any reason. But if he were presented with the idea by his partner I don’t think he would oppose. In fact, he loved the idea of making a kid! That’s all fun and dandy, but after the child is born (baked?) how does he feel.

Well, believe it or not, he realizes that he does like kids really quickly! Just, only his kids. Every annoying trait he seemed to despise before becomes undeniably charming coming from his little one. Oh, and if they look anything like you, help his soul he may crumble on the spot. He can’t help the way his dough softens when they bat their little eyes up at him all innocent like.

He 100% has a set of twins (bless his insane gene pool), and they are the lights of his life. They’re a nice mix of the both of you, and you’ll catch him staring at them a lot. He just can’t help it, seeing the product of your love is nice. Just one glance and any cookie could tell who’s the parents, it’s nice to have that literal living reminder that you love him enough to settle (sorta) with him.

They really can do no wrong in his eyes, unless you say they’re doing wrong, then it’s “listen to your parent kiddo” because he’s still stupidly in love with you. If you’re not around to tell them no, he’ll let them do whatever the hell they want. Hell, he encourages mischief and misbehavior, so long as they won’t get hurt from it.

He’s the fun dad, which is to be expected. He takes them on adventures and teaches them how to play pranks and even teaches them magic if they like. He wants them to grow up feeling like they’re on top of the world, because they are.

Still, he instills and demands respect toward both of you from them. He’s not above (reasonable and approved by you) punishments for either of them taking it too far. He also won’t tolerate disrespect to you, even if you’re the “no fun” one.

And, keeping it real for a second, he loves his kids. He really does. He’d never imagined having little cookies to care for, but he’d kill for them. When he first held their tiny little bodies in his arms, his whole world came together.

He’d lived his whole life bigger and grander than any other cookie, but holding his babies with you at his side… well he’d never felt smaller. He doesn’t typically like quiet, but he had no words to fill up the silence as he stood in awe of the beautiful children in his arms.

He’s a good dad, he wants to be a good dad. I know it’s hard to believe but once he gets these things he cherishes them. He would never forsake the family he was able to build up and keep as his own. The few cookies in all of earthbread that he let in would be loved like no others.

[wistfulnightingale]

The Night That Changed an Angel (or, why does Aziraphale still wear that shabby vest?)

Mini-Meta Musing (#4)

I've been brooding for a long time about, of all things, Aziraphale's worn velvet vest and the long cream jacket he's kept in "tip top condition for over 180 years now." I love the sweet familiarity, but this is the same angel who popped across the Channel and almost lost his fluffy-topped head in 1793 for dressing like an aristocrat.

"I have standards!"

He's the height of elegance, extravagance even. A dandy. We've seen the same at the Globe Theater 1601, Edinburgh 1827, and even as a Knight of the Round Table in 527 Essex, where he's wearing a glorious pelt across his shoulders! However, sometime after Edinburgh 1827, Aziraphale's stylish extravagance ends. He adopts the dress of distinguished but modest gentility. No seamstresses strain their eyes for days hand stitching ruffles and trims for him any longer. When we next see him in 1862, his clothing is refined, simple, and serviceable. It becomes his uniform, with only minor replacements. Why? What happened to change him?

Edinburgh 1827 happened. And his encounter with tragedy ran over his sensibilities like a locomotive.

Aziraphale had, we were told, saved his earnings over time and had bought land, invested wisely, and became quite well off. He used real money, not miracles, to build the bookshop, paying the builders well and taking care of bills honestly. He built himself up to a more than comfortable lifestyle, from nearly nothing. And his clothes are real, not miracled from nothingness like Crowley's. (source: original showrunner)

Aziraphale's wealth allows him to afford luxurious tailoring and fancy shoes and ruffles and trims. He'll certainly pay the cobblers and tailors and seamstresses well for their labors. It will be a substantial expense for the era. (The linked post gives a wonderful perspective on 1793 lifestyles and costs.)

https://agoodflyting.tumblr.com/post/753227014283083776/why-aziraphales-white-satin-pumps-are-ridiculous

The angel's Edinburgh multilayered and trimmed top coat, soft leather gloves, matching scarf, jacquard vest, silk cravat, etc., look entirely out of place in the back alleys where the poor huddle. Walking the clean, gas-lit avenues with Crowley and Elspeth, Aziraphale is oblivious to the privilege he has in this world.

As he strolls along in philosophical banter with Crowley about the "blessing" of poverty, the angel spouts trite pontifications created by the rich to justify poverty. He genuinely believes Elspeth has more opportunities for goodness.  After all, look at Wee Morag.  He respects her goodness tremendously.  It proves to him his “rightness.”  And so he sabotages Elspeth’s attempt to sell the body she dug up in her attempt to support Wee Morag.  Dalrymple gets no body, Elspeth gets no money, and Aziraphale believes he’s saving her soul.

It’s a poignant moment, though, when Aziraphale cradles the jar containing a tumor from a seven year old child who died because there wasn’t enough medical knowledge to save him.  Turning point number one.  It becomes Real, not a philosophical debate.  Selling stolen bodies puts good in the world.  He’s all for it now, and goes back to encourage Elspeth.  Good heavens, he’s even willing to help this time!

But, as we know, it all goes wrong.  Wee Morag is shot by a grave gun, and dies of her injuries.  Elspeth steals laudanum, and plans suicide.  Crowley drinks the laudanum, saves her in a compassionate Scottish frenzy, and is stolen away by hell because of his kindness.   And it is All. Aziriphale’s. Fault.

Turning point number two.  Another watershed moment where Aziraphale’s world changes again.

One of Crowley’s last earthly acts, before getting plunged into hell, is to have Aziraphale give Elspeth all of his pocket money.  What is pocket money to the angel is a fortune to her, one that can set her up for a better life.  I have no doubt that in the aftermath of the traumas of that night, missing and worrying about Crowley, Aziraphale thinks about all of this.  He considers all of the money he casually spends on fine clothing and expensive tailoring.  He wonders how many lives could change if that money was better spent on helping to relieve the poverty that surrounds him.  He wants to help, and to try to make amends for the harm he caused.  What would Crowley do, if he were free to be kind? And so Aziraphale changes.

I’d love to know the story of how it all played out.  Did he sell his fine clothing and donate the proceeds?  Did he become involved in charitable foundations?  Did he buy the clothing of a simple gentleman and decide to preserve it, however worn it became, as a reminder to himself of his past blindness and vanity?  We see in Season 1 how important it is to him to preserve that coat. (Sure, it's also a fantastic opportunity to flirt and flutter those angelic eyelashes... But, nonetheless!)

By Season 2, the angel who took too long justifying a life-saving miracle for Wee Morag, and who hesitated to give Elspeth his 90 Guineas, willingly and freely gave Maggie forgiveness for thousands of pounds of debt. I'd love to know what else he's done over the last 180+ years!

Whatever happened, it began that night in a graveyard.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Dandys world x secret admierer!reader leaving an anonymous note for them?

Various toons being left a love letter

Aaah so sorry but that's way too many characters for one request 😭🙏 maybe I'll make a part two with more characters one day :)!!

Characters: rodger, glisten, Shelly, astro

Notes: gn reader, toon reader, pre game, short post, written on mobile, mostly centered on their reactions

CWs: none

RODGER

He's a detective, of course he's going to be doing everything to try to figure out who left the letter...! And boy is that toon relentless in his desire to soothe his curiosity...!

That is... after he realizes that it's a love letter. He seems like the type to be a little dense when it comes to romance. Or feelings in general... not that he's cold or unfeeling he just has a habit of focusing on details and logic...! But once he does realize what the letter implies...? Oh he is sitting at his desk reading it over and over again

Each interaction with him feels like an interrogation. Good luck trying to keep your secret for long

GLISTEN

Well of course he's got a secret admirer! Who wouldn't think he's at least a little cute...! Don't mind how he's clutching the letter in his room behind closed doors and almost obsessively reading the lines over and over and committing them to memory

He... hangs the letter up by his vanity so it's the first thing he sees every morning when he does his make up... it actually gives him a boost

He does talk about the letter openly, especially if it's around the valentines season. He does it both to brag but to also subtly try to catch any reactions that might point to who wrote it

SHELLY

Oh she is over the moon once she reads the note...! But also... confused.. who sent this? She can understand why they didn't leave a signature but the curiosity is eating her alive!

She keeps the letter tucked away safely somewhere in her room so it doesn't get lost. She may have a knack for paleontology but the interest has left her with a keen eye...! It's not the usual subject but she's going to study the handwriting..!

Shes... not very sneaky in comparing the letters writing to everyone elses... or asking around... she's trying, okay...!

ASTRO

Oh... a letter... he rereads it later after he's better rested and realizes it's a *love* letter... he's not very emotive but his face does shift just slightly into surprise. Widened eyes, mouth in a line...

He keeps the letter on him either tucked under his hat or in his blanket. If he has so much as an inkling of an idea of who wrote it he's going to whip it out and ask... he's forward but he doesn't want to beat around the bush with something like this

Its... a little funny... given he's typically more reserved and shy about things like this. Curiosity and sleepless nights staring at the ceiling will do that to someone

[s-4pphics]

cw; fratadjacent!ellie, mentions of prescription drugs and dealing, literally just for ‘23 tlou tumblr nostalgia 

attempt 747388282 of getting outta my block. barely edited bc i havent slept

How the hell do you introduce yourself to a dealer?

Initiating convos with a stranger with a hey, do you sell addies, seems a little rude for regular common folk, but do dealers actually care about introduction etiquette? Highly doubtful, but you despise assuming shit about people, much due to the fact that your brain has a deadly latching tendency, remembering everything it shouldn’t and forgetting everything you should remember. 

Dealers are driven by the dollar, aren’t they? Just like everyone else. Show the money, get the candy… or something? You doubt Mel would put you in harm's way. 

You came to your roommate in the middle of a breakdown: self-soothed through a panic attack with snot dripping down your nose and thoughts scattered like they always are. Always. Your brain never listens to reason and it’s torture. She held you while you cried and cursed the medical industry, all while your brain shattered to pieces, attempting to find solace in Mel’s softened whisper. 

I have this friend…

And of course, your brain never forgets. Your prescription is forever to blame for your shortcomings. Every unfinished essay, failed test, failed class — mindless scrolling — it’s all due to your lack of… candy. Brain candy. It’s fucked up how terribly you need it to get through school. If you don’t pop one at six in the morning everyday, every plan you make goes down the drain and into the sewers. 

Pharmacies are supposed to always have their shit together. Customers come in, grab their beans, and they dip for a month before doing it all over again. Visits are dandy until they aren’t, apparently. Out of all people, why did they have to fuck up yours? A year of going to the same location with the same pharmacist and they suddenly misplace the only jewels that keep your head on your neck. 

Sure, you could sue or commit arson to that entire building, but you decided spending the last bit of your free time bribing the go-to drug lord of campus would be much more beneficial. And less… endangering. 

Mel is close with drug dealers — a surprising fact to discover about your soft-toned friend. Ellie Williams is one of them, and she’s expecting your arrival, according to Mel. The texts between you and this faceless stranger were brief, aloof — quite business-like despite the topic of conversation. You only hear about her from the sidelines or your roommate, and everyone seems to have a consensus opinion. 

Evidently, she fucking sucks. And fucks. Literally and figuratively. Good for her? You don’t give a shit. She agreed to give you a month's supply of Dextro for fifteen bucks. Fuck the gossip and the pharmacy. 

That gets you knocking. It takes fourteen seconds for the door to open, and you're instantly hit with the wall of Mary. Jane, in particular, and she’s covered in red lights. 

The testy drug head doesn’t fit everybody’s description; her face is almost too sweet for her body. She’s literally wearing Spiderman PJs. What kinda dealer has freckles and rosy cheeks? Her eyes remind you of a deer’s despite the pink tint. Can deers even get high? 

One of the first things Ellie does is take in your Patrick Star slippers. Her grin is slight as she eyes them. 

“Huh.”

“… Hey.” 

“Hello.” 

You hate silence more than anything in the world. It’s so fucking awkward in this hallway. 

“Name?” 

… Maybe intros are necessary? “Oh. Uh. I’m Mel’s friend. I’m guessing y’all know each other? I’m—“

The a-ha she makes is very innocuous. This is the beast everyone always talks about? “My dex pickup, right?” 

You jokingly shrug, “in the flesh.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

“You… you, too.” 

It’s silent again. Being shot in the face would be less painful than standing here. 

Soon, but not nearly enough, Ellie digs into her pocket to retrieve a very familiar looking orange bottle. It almost looks like yours minus the white sticker with your name and dosage. Just plain orange. And filled a hefty amount. A little over halfway. 

“Uh,” you stumble around in your jean pocket like an idiot. When you come up empty handed, you dig around in your back pocket. Then your other front, then your other back. 

Where the fuck is your twenty? 

“Uh… um…”

You check your bra and your shoulder bag and your sock, all while Ellie stares at you like you’re a walrus on stilts. 

“I’m… I dunno where my…” 

“Short?”

Flames burst beneath your cheeks. Too fucking short. If you were in a mafia film, you’d be strung up in front of Ellie’s door as a warning for loose pocketers. 

But Ellie’s not in the fucking mafia. She looks like she’s about to laugh. Before you can drown her in apologies, she hands you the clattering jar. 

“… Wh—“

“No offense, but… I think you needa fill.” 

This has to be a test. Ellie’s going to slice your hand clean off your wrist when you reach for your vice… Your prescription, you mean. Not vice—

“You want ‘em or not?” 

Impatient as fuck — very on brand. Just as your palm eagerly closes around the bottle, a shock of electricity pops from Ellie’s hand to yours. She flinches but you don’t. The horrifying screams from the little fuckers in your hand are too distracting. 

“Do I owe you?” 

She ponders for a second. Eyes you with curiosity. Snickers down at your slippers. 

“It’s cool. Just tell me if they work.” 

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Do I really have to explain the hierarchy to you?” 

“What do you think?” 

Ellie pins you with a playful glare, “I bought from someone new.” 

That doesn’t mean shit to you, so why are you attempting to make conversation? “Is that why you stocked me up?” 

“Sure.” 

“Are they laced?” 

She shrugs, “maybe.” 

That should induce fear… It never comes. You anticipate focusing too much to care. If you die, you die. 

This convo fucking sucks. And now it’s quiet because how the fuck are you supposed to respond to you potentially OD-ing? Your brain’s cranking but, just like every other time, you come up empty handed. 

“You can go now.” 

You try not to be bothered by her dismissing you. You shouldn’t be bothered by anything — she did you a favor. Ellie must really like your fucking slippers. She’s spoken to Patrick more than you this entire time. 

“… Thanks.” 

“No sweat. Get home safe.” 

Her door closes. Your chest opens. You convince yourself it’s with gratitude, and not at all due to the weird attraction you felt for that drugged-out freakazoid. 

[sickwhispers]

Hello 👋, can I just hang out with pebble, I honestly just want to pet him he's too cute🥺

ROCKY DAYCARE

Pairing: Pebble + reader (mentions of co-parenting with dandy)

Relationship: platonic/familial

Warning: none!

Type: drabble/one-shot

"Go fetch!" You watch his little legs run after the ball, carrying him faster then you had ever seen before as he eventually catches up it. It was always nice being able to relax like this. The floor was calm. No sounds being echoed through the corridors connecting each room, no twisteds attempting to gouge out every little sliver of ichor holding you together.

You almost laugh at the way pebble spins around the ball, running in circles and almost tripping over it at some point. He yips a few times, tail wagging rapidly as he nudges the ball with his head. And, after a few seconds of ring around the rosie, he begins to nudge the ball back over to you.

"Oh? You want me to throw it again?" A small shock of pain shot through your arm, reminding you of the past thirty minutes you spent playing fetch. But, despite that, you didn't want to stop. Part of you couldn't help but dwell on the thought of just how lucky you were to be alive, sitting comfortably against a beanbag with pebble barking in your direction.

And so, as pebble nudged the ball closer to you, you picked it up once more.

"You miss playing fetch, don't you pebble?" The smile on your face widened for a second, looking down at pebble who had began nuzzling his head against your leg. It was something you had seen him do many times before, and each time you rewarded his good behavior with a little scratch under his chin. "Does dandy not give you enough attention? Poor thing... that's why I'm the better parent. I give you all the love in the world, don't i?"

"Bwoof!" Was the only reply you has gotten, along side his tiny body rubbing against your leg once more. You took it as an agreement.

"Maybe we should let dandy agree on letting me have you for the week. Weekends are just not enough for us, right pebble?" You throw the ball off into the distance once more. The object flying into a wall before bouncing off it and landing right back onto the floor. And, just like last time, you watched as pebble chased after it. "C'mon, boy! Bring it back!"

Another yip was heard before pebble began sprinting in your direction, nudging the ball along the way with his snout. He'd lose track of it a few times, the ball rolling off to the side. But, like the smart pet rock he is, he'd bring it right back.

"Oh my goodness! Look at you go!" You clapped, chuckling slightly at the scene before you. And, just for a little extra praise for his good behavior, you let your hand glide over the top side of his head, feeling the rough, rocky extrieror against your palm. He seemed to love it, spinning around in a circle like he always does before bumping himself onto your hand.

And, just like always, he soon found himself cradled in your arms after a long day. His eyes shut as he buried himself deeper into the crook of your arm, allowing himself to snuggle against you. You only hoped tomorrow would be just as peaceful.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Movie Week [review]

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Yandere Score: 8/10

Overall Score: 8/10

Fear does exactly what it's supposed to. Not perfectly by any means, but well enough that I don't mind spending an hour and a half in its world.

A very fun world too - cute fashion, a great score, pleasing cinematography and a male lead who slowly becomes more despicable the longer the film goes on. Alyssa Milano, Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon look incredible the entire movie. And I guess their acting isn't bad either.

We start off with a man out on a jog. And we know it's going to be a thriller because a) shaky cam and b) very dramatic music just two minutes in. Great start. After that, we're introduced to Nicole (Reese Witherspoon), a high schooler with a slightly strained relationship with her dad and teenage angst lite.

She's cute. The girl next door with a daddy's girl bracelet and a kid brother who loves her. If she didn't have the bad luck of running into a bad man, I'd say things would have worked out just dandy.

But no such luck. Not for you kid.

Enter David.

He walks on screen to audible screams from the audience (me). He's hot. And the way he's introduced is hot. Shady bar, music in the background, leather jacket delinquents playing pool. From the get go, he screams bad boy. Rubbing (read: jerking off) his pool cue - at hip height - while looking at our female lead? C'mon, that's too easy.

I won't go into detail, but they obviously end up in a relationship. And it's hot stuff. At one point, he has his hand up her her skirt while they're on a rollercoaster. Yeah, we all see the symbolism. Coming (down) must be pretty fun on a ride like that, huh Nic?

It's not great the entire movie - their first conversation is stilted and awkward, filled with clichés. But the build up in tension is what does it for me.

There are plenty of little things that tip you off from the get go. David isn't as nice as he seems, not by a long shot.

It starts with a few tense looks between him and Nicole's dad. Just a father being a bit picky, right? Nope. He turns back the office clock so he can have a little more time with Nicole before curfew. He flirts with her best friend. He tells Nicole to, "Get me a coke." Bossy. Commanding.

I'll be honest, if I didn't know the synopsis of the film, I'd say dear old dad was being overly protective. Nope. Those red flags are about as red as they can get.

When things start going off the rails, the movie handles it pretty well. The scenes are decently tense, even though they're missing that little bit of careful handling that would make them terrifying.

As a yandere, David does everything you'd expect. He's manipulative. He's violent. He doesn't know where to draw the line in anything. Oh, and he's hot. Did I mention that already?

He's a Levi's and t-shirt kind of guy, with a great car, a nice voice, and biceps you want to sink your teeth into. When it comes to deranged stalkers, you can do a LOT worse.

The third act is a ball of a time. There's room for it to have been a bit more tense - it suffers from being a little too short, the twists not having enough time to breathe. The pace doesn't feel quick in the so much happening, I'm at the edge of my seat sort of way, but in the oh no, we only have the budget for thirty more minutes of run time sort of way.

Still, it's very enjoyable. David says and does plenty of very yandere things. I'm absolutely stealing some of his lines.

In terms of style, the movie is a knockout. I think it's a big part of what carries my recommendation. The cinematography is really pleasing, with lots of reds and dark greens. Very 'Seattle on a rainy day.' The sound track is totally 90's, with a nice mix of rock, pop and indie. It gives the movie a sense of place and time that exponentially improves the story.

How does it hold up as a piece of yandere media? It doesn't do anything radical or new, but the classics it sticks to are done well enough that it's worth the watch.

Oh, and David is very hot. I don't know if I mentioned that. 

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Day 2 - Secret Obsession (2019)

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Day 4 - The Perfect Guy (2015)

Day 5 - The Boy Next Door (2015)

Day 6 - The Invisible Man (2020)

Day 7 - Til Death Do Us Part (2017)

[arreat]

more Poolverine shit cause the hyperfixation is not fading

Logan has issues with abandonment and being alone, anyone who knows anything about his past could probably guess this. So when Wade W Wilson barrels into his life to drag the sad alcoholic out of his miserable world, invites him to live together, and gives him what is essentially a new lease on life, it’s a little bit of an understatement to say Logan got a little attached to Wade.

Now this would all be fine and dandy if Logan didn’t have a shitload of trauma and all, but hey I wouldn’t be writing this if things went smoothly would I?

While with Wade, Logan has gotten irreversibly attached to him. The banter, the domesticity, and the feeling of being accepted by someone is something Logan hadn’t felt in a while. He can’t ever get fully drunk due to his dealing factor, but god, Wade’s kindness and adoration makes him feel like he’s pretty fucking close. But as the two spend more time together, Logan is always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to do something that will disappoint Wade and damage their relationship. What if Wade kicks him out, or even worse, slowly realize the Wolverine isn’t actually worth helping? Logan can’t help but think that one day Wade will stop being impressed by him since he’s no longer useful, just a sad, washed-up, alcoholic tool that’s only occasionally handy for timeline saving.

So, Logan makes himself useful. Cooking for the two, cleaning the living space, trying to find a job to cover rent, taking care of the dog, Logan does it all in a desperate attempt to stay in his perception of Wade’s good graces. Wade certainly doesn’t complain about it, offering to help on occasions but being refused by a grumpy Wolverine.

What brings the status quo all crashing down one day is a simple comment from Wade before they’re about to head to bed,

“Hey peanut, you consider ever moving out?” Of course to Wade, it was just a harmless question, giving Logan an out in case he preferred living without a chatty ADHD cancer tumor and a blind woman in a cramped area. So when Logan suddenly tenses aggressively as his breaths become more laboured, Wade is confused. Suddenly, all of the possible things Logan has done “wrong” flashed through his head. Was it because he accidentally stabbed Wade while sleeping? Was he too harsh on the merc, telling him to shut up? Did he snore too loud, or did Wade just get sick of the close proximity? For all the joking Wade did, Logan couldn’t get a proper read on what he actually meant. The Wolverine slowly stood up and faced Wade, voice barely audible and breathing harshly.

“Wade. Are you telling me to move out?”

“You doing ok there peanut? Feel your water break or something?” Wade joked weakly, surprised by the sudden change in Logan’s demeanour, failing to lighten the mood. In fact , the deflection made Logan’s expression even worse, as he thought Wade was just being nice and not explicitly stating he wanted him out of here. At this moment, Logan realizes he is not above begging to stay with the merc. He can’t bear to look at Wade as he stammers,

“Please don’t make me leave, I promise I’ll be useful to you, tell me what you need me to be. Please.” Logan rasped, slowly staggering towards the merc, hands desperately grabbing at Wade’s arms. The merc tries to speak, but gets interrupted.

“I can be useful Wade, you need help taking hits? Is it something physical you want with me? You’re always joking about my abs and “tits” and shit, you want that?” Logan pleads in an increasingly maniacal tone. Wade, horrified at Logan’s statement interrupts.

“No what- what are you taking about? I’m not forcing you to move out, Logan, it was just a suggestion!”

Logan still can’t bring himself to face Wade, suddenly ashamed at his words. He attempts to turn and leave, but is stopped by Wade as the merc continues.

“Pookie look at me, yes I know difficult task, but I need you to know I’m being serious when I say you don’t owe me anything.” Wade says.

“I don’t know what perception you have of me, but I would never coerce you to do something that you weren’t into because you felt the need to repay me for god knows what reasons. Consent is mandatory AND very sexy. In fact, I’m very happy to have you living with me, I just asked to make sure YOU wanted to live with ME.”

Wade rambles on while reassuring Logan, but at this point poor wolvie is overwhelmed with the idea that Wade actually wants him here? It’s a novel concept that someone would want Logan just for being Logan. It was never about who he was as a person, only the role he could fill. Bad guy, good guy, the Wolverine, a weapon, all his life he tried to live up to labels and expectations, thrown away if he didn’t meet them. He always needed to impress, to be useful to get people to stay.

Tears gently rolled down his face as Wade brushed them away softly, guiding the two to bed. “Shhh it’s alright honey badger, we can talk more about this in the morning. You’re tired, let’s get you to bed first” the merc whispers as he walks.

The two eventually go to bed, Logan falling asleep tucked against Wade while listening to his heartbeat Both had their arms wrapped tight around each other, Logan finally feeling safe in someone’s embrace for once.

(They then had a healthy conversation about stuff and yeah this post is getting too long and the author doesn’t want to write more dialogue rn 👍)

[ghostcam4812]

Dandy's World Finn Redesign!

(My version/AU) Finn!!! Our favorite pun-making pal… Remember these r just my headcanons and you don't have to agree! ^_^

Also I'm so sorry the cartoon vers looks worse than my usual ones 😭😭😭🙏... I forgot how to draw it since I got rusty and didn't reference my past ref sheets LOL. why does he have fingers 💔🙁. Opposed to many other Toons, Finn is not very complex; outside of his strange physical properties. Finn is a Toon made of glass and filled with water, with biological fins and webs, as well as a fish tail. The glass is flexible, bendy, yet still somewhat fragile and breakable. Unlucky for him, he is clumsy, and prone to falling and hitting things, causing him to crack and require fixing. And after the Handlers leave, it becomes a real responsibility- he can't FIX glass... so a crack is a real danger to his well-being. It's made him more nervous to do the things he likes, and be as hyper as he usually is, because he knows one day... it won't just be a crack. And a bandaid won't be enough to fix it. But hey, as long as there's water to refill him, he can't really die or anything silly like that. Right??? ...Finn loves all things aquatic or semi-aquatic, and dreams of nothing more but to be able to swim in the ocean! Unfortunately, he is too heavy to swim, as he just... sinks. In result, he must wear a life jacket and floaties when around water or when "going swimming"...so he floats instead of sinking... but that's not really swimming, is it? :( He is a joyous Toon, whether he's nervous about his glass body or not. He loves to make puns, he loves to be around his friends and talk to everyone about everything!! And by everything, of course I mean everything aquatic. Fish, sea plants, water itself, but especially the fish. Who could not like something that breathes water? I mean, it's just SO cool!!!!! It doesn't really matter if Toons don't understand his puns all the time. He gets them, and he loves them!! As his head is shaped like a fish bowl, and he has such love for fish, of course he had to get a pet fish! And they're always together, of course. Chancey is his best friend, a beautiful and intelligent gold fish! Except for when she tries to swim down his throat. That isn't as fun. But hey, of course there's always risks with his body! He could never hold it against Chancey. (Also, I know he has a toy fish in canon with a pre-existing name, but, I forgot about it while working on him for the AU/MV, and I like Chancey too much to change it now!) I don't know what else to put here, besides that he's forgetful (unlike Chancey!), and uhm... have a reel fin-tastic day?

Dandy's World art & hc/au info requests open (including OCs for art) in my ask box! I will have delayed responses (as of posting), especially to things I want to give art with on my answer! :}

I'll do my best to keep posting frequently!! But if I go silent for a while, do not fear, I shall return! 🤺