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#bringing this au back
rustandruin · 1 year
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the ghost of one specific homosexual cowboy regularly possesses Tumblr gays
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bixels · 5 months
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Hot to the Touch
(Sunset x Thea)
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woodlaflababab · 1 month
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Currently amused by the idea that Aang is a delinquent. Forget punk or prep, he has tattoos, he's constantly destroying public property, he's encouraging kids to run away from home, he's homeless, he has no qualms about lying or stealing, has gotten into street fights, skips school, acts out in class, and he has canonically gone to jail and made friends with the criminals there.
Short of drug use, he is the textbox definition of a delinquent, he just hides it with how fucking cute he is.
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pucksandpower · 2 months
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Formula 1 was much more fun when drivers ignored team orders … so this is my petition for everyone to channel their inner Multi 21 era Sebastian Vettel from now on
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boredth · 7 months
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Do I look civilized to you?
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cherrirui-official · 2 months
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"You know... You didn't have to take that with you."
"But I promised him I'd take him out to see the ocean one day."
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#for context uhmm how do i explain this#so around a few weeks after Jd arrives Bruce is like “Hey... where are the others?”#and Jd is like “ooooh 🤪🤪 he doesnt know...”#Since at this time JD believes that the entire tribe is dead. including his brothers and grandma#so Jd has to take Bruce to the now abandoned troll tree and give him the bad news#Bruce doesnt believe it at first. even if the tree is abandoned they cant be dead? right?? they cant be#so he rushes over to their grandma's pod. thinking that theyre just in hiding and waiting for them to return#and all Bruce is able to find in the empty pod is Branch's old stuffed toy Croco#which solidifies to Bruce that everyone is dead. their friends their family. everyone#Bruce is obviously devastated by the news. he doesnt show it a lot but he doesnt take it too well#he ends up bringing Croco with him back to Vacay Island and patches Croco up#since Croco is a bit worn out due to being left in the pod for years#and since then Bruce always keeps Croco hidden in his hair. both as a memoir of his baby brother#and also a reminder of how he failed as an older brother... ouch#ofc the others arent dead. its just that now both Jd AND Bruce believe that the rest of the trolls are dead#also King Trollex is there bc i wanted to put him there. I like Trollex :]#a knee ways more bb au art i promise the next bb au art will be lighthearted#tho now im gonna work on the next violet gijinka batch bc ive been starving my friendlocke audience for too long#sorry friendlocke fans ill feed u next dw#cherris canvas#trolls#trolls band together#trolls john dory#john dory trolls#trolls bruce#bruce trolls#king trollex#beach bros au#sorry for rambling in the tags i hope u dont mind ahaha
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esprei · 9 months
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possessed!volo au doodles
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tsukk1 · 11 months
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tddk formula 1 au i'm bringing back from the dead
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pfhwrittes · 4 months
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retail hell reader is being bothered by an uncomfortably friendly customer and tf141 handle it in their own ways.
warnings: female!reader (she/her pronouns) isn’t being overtly harassed but you know when a man is being too interested and too friendly? its that. egregious use of scots as inspired by still game, pet names “love”, “hen” and “bonnie girl” used to refer to f!reader.
word count: 1.5k
pairings: kyle garrick x reader, john mactavish x reader, simon riley x reader, john price x reader.
each reader x named character interaction should be read as a standalone but i stuck them all together as they were too short to post individually in my opinion.
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this customer is making you nervous as fuck. you don't think you've been inappropriate with him in any way, just polite and friendly as you sorted out his refund. the problem is that he's massive, easily taller than simon by a couple of inches and he keeps looming over you blaming his difficulty understanding english as to why he keeps getting closer and closer. he's practically mounting the customer service desk to peer down at you (and you have a horrible feeling he's trying to get a look down your polo top).
you're beginning to panic so you do the only thing you think to do (which admittedly is pretty stupid looking back on it) and make your excuses to leave the customer service desk to find one of your friends. or at least find a colleague who will act as a witness if this guy gets any creepier.
gaz handles it like a champ. as soon as he spots the creep following you around he's there. arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side at the kitchen consultant's desk. his customer service smile is fixed on his face and he refuses to even acknowledge this giant arsehole of a man, just keeps talking to you softly and shows you the kitchen he’s working on. kyle’s beautiful brown eyes only briefly leave your face so he can point out another favourite part of his design, he never once looks over at the creep. it works to soothe you, especially being so close to him. after ten minutes of being blatantly ignored, the creep walks off muttering under his breath. hopefully he’s left the store but unfortunately it’s around that time that kyle has a couple walk up to him asking him if he’s free for a drop in consultation. before he agrees he checks in with a gentle “you alright if i take this appointment, yeah? come straight back if that guy is still hanging around. i’ll deal with him.” he looks so serious you believe him. you reassure him that you’ll be fine and he gives your arm a gentle squeeze before you separate from his warmth already missing the slightly woody scent of his cologne. before you’re completely out of earshot you hear the couple cooing over how cute kyle was with you and his reply of “well, it’s not exactly hard when she’s one of my favourite colleagues…” and the fondness in his voice makes your cheeks heat up. 
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johnny nearly trips over you as you’re crouched behind the paint desk. “steamin’ jesus, what’re ya daein’ under there hen?” you hush him quickly and silently with a finger raised to your lips. you don’t want to speak because you know the giant is still out there looking for you, you thought you’d given him the slip near the paint brushes but then he’d rounded the end of the aisle so you darted for the relative safety of the paint desk. johnny crouches down next to you and whispers “are we hidin’ from someone? is it simon?” you shake your head and go to answer him but then your blood runs cold as you hear that familiar accented voice. “excuse me? i was wondering if you might help, i’m looking for the fräulein who was helping me?” johnny shoots a look at you and you squish yourself further into the corner of the desk hoping against hope that johnny won’t give you away. thankfully, johnny straightens up from behind the desk with his most charming customer service grin “sorry pal, i’ve no’ seen her. ‘s only me on the desk the day.” the creep sounds nonplussed at johnny’s thick glaswegian accent (you’ve certainly never heard it ramped up like that in all the times you’ve spoken with him) and a little crestfallen when he starts to reply with “oh, perhaps you’d be good enough to -” johnny interrupts him, voice still pitched in a friendly manner but you can hear an undercurrent of tension “naw, sorry pal. i’m busy pitin’ the hems oan the tins. is there anythin’ i can dae fer ye mixin’ wise?” there’s a moment of silence and you watch johnny’s smile slowly slip off his face, his lips thinning into a stern line. “ah, um. no thank you. perhaps she will find me.” the creep sounds a little nervous now if the uncomfortable laugh he lets out is any indication. “aye right. well i’d best be lettin’ you get oan then eh?” johnny shifts on his feet slightly so his calf brushes up against your arm. after another tense moment you hear the lumbering footsteps of the giant move away from the desk. johnny looks down at you with a mischievous grin, “i’ve got to say bonnie girl, you look a right sight down there.” you only feel a little bit bad when you punch him lightly in the leg and he yelps in shock as the blush on your cheeks spreads down your neck. 
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simon is less than impressed when you duck under the chain across the warehouse doors and flatten yourself against the noticeboard out of view from the shop floor. “you stupid? chains up which means the forklift is out so you need to be too.” he’s pissed off and thinking about how much paperwork he’ll have to fill out now because you didn’t bother to think about the cameras in your dash for safety. he takes a big step towards you before swerving off to the side to block the customer that has just appeared at the chain. “the fuck do you want?” he practically snarls. ‘this isn’t the fucking caff.” simon squares his shoulders and glares at the oversized dickhead that’s wasting his time. “well? can’t you fuckin’ read? staff access only. and you’re not staff so fuck off.” simon barks at the man, not letting him get a word in edgewise to start bitching about stock or whatever it is that he wants. simon couldn’t give a shit, he just wants the customer (and you) to fuck off promptly so he can start moving pallettes around. the customer just blinks and takes several steps back before turning away. you let out a shaky sigh and thank simon quietly. simon hums in acknowledgement and sweeps a critical eye down your lightly trembling form. “he botherin’ ya?” at your nod he hums again before jerking his head towards the back of the warehouse “go put a hi-vis on and sit in the office, i’ll come get you when i’m done on the ‘lift.”. when simon comes back into the office two paper cups of tea in hand thirty minutes later, you offer him a small smile and catch his lips twitch up briefly before he turns away to plunk his cup down on top of a cluttered filing cabinet. 
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price practically walks into you as you come flying around the end of the plumbing aisle. it’s unusual to see you so far away from the customer service desk and looking so flustered. “alright, love?” his hand is on your elbow as he asks. you crane your neck round to look behind you, too worried about that customer to enjoy his large warm hand on your bare skin. price straightens up and drops his hand away from you when he spots a customer behind you, in his opinion the customer is moving a little too fast to be considered casual. price bristles slightly when he catches the dark look on the gentleman’s face. oh no, he doesn’t like the look of this one at all. especially when you look at price and mouth “help” quickly. price steps forward and puts you at his back, blocking the creep from getting any closer. “can i help you, mate?” his gruff voice is just shy of sounding friendly and you watch his back muscles shift under the black polo top he’s wearing. “no thank you, i wanted to speak with the little woman some more.” god the customer is weird, you shudder a little at being referred to as a “little woman”. price shifts to block the customer’s view of you more fully as he does you notice the back of price’s neck has gone a little red. “not possible. i need her for a job.” price’s words sound like they’re being ground out through gritted teeth in response. “i’m sure simon would be more than willing to help you.” you jolt a little when you spot simon at the customer’s shoulder. a man shouldn’t be able to move so silently in steel toed safety boots. you catch a brief wince flicker across the customer’s face when simon’s hand comes down on his shoulder, slightly too hard to be entirely polite. “ah, um, yes. perhaps that’s for the best.” simon leads the customer away and you step up beside price to thank him. he looks deadly serious when he turns to face you “any time love.” his stern blue stare softens slightly and you’re sure you catch his gaze flicker to your mouth briefly before he clears his throat and turns away “c’mon then. back to the returns desk with you.”. 
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AN: i have very much hidden from customers in the warehouse and behind the paint desk at B&Q. don’t be like reader (or me) and hide in the goods-in area, you will get shouted at for it. 
translation for johnny’s scots: “pitin’ the hems oan” = putting the hems on, meaning to put something in order or to restrain something/someone.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months
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Thank you all for voting in the poll to decide who was going to be the leader of the band! It turned out to be such a close race!
#poorly drawn mdzs#better drawn mdzs#mdzs#madam lan#A-qing#Band AU#(Reminder that Madam Lan's design inspiration goes to Qourmet!)#Madam Lan may have been the winner per vote count but there were so many strong advocates for A-Qing!#I played around with a few versions of what the 'poll winner' art was going to be and ultimately decided I wanted them both.#As any good theater love knows though - The battle for leadership was a ruse. They *all* get a chance to be featured.#Cooperation was the real end goal! However I do think these two have the best frontman energy of the group.#Or at least 'crowd favourite' energy. I also really loved hearing what people thought their vocal styles would be like!#This was probably one of my favourite polls to do and I love drawing these characters a lot B*)#I'd love to spend a bit more time in this AU so count on me bringing it back.#One thing I keep feeling like I need to redeem myself on is Madam Lan's Translucent skirt. I have *not* done the concept justice yet.#It is such a crack-platonic ship but I want to think Madam Lan and A-Qing would enjoy each other's company.#Possibly also with JYL as well. They can be like mutually beneficial therapy dogs to each other.#Madam Lan never got to see her kids grow up into teenagers after all. She only had sons. Never daughters.#Even if she saw her kids once a month we do know she treated them with so much love and kindness.#She would bite the shit out of YZY for yelling at JYL. What a sight to see. A-Qing would also start biting (for fun).
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ryssbelle · 3 months
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N2 au Brucey babe!! He really doesnt change much tbh, it's mostly just an outfit change plus his gropes about his brother would be a bit different in that they're extended to all of them and not just JD, theyre just mostly centered around JD.
Cuz from his side he knew all of his brothers were alive at least Floyd, JD, and Branch. He just couldn't leave Vacay island, at first due to fear, and then he started a family there (first kid was accidental).
He'd heard rumors about JD and the others due to JD traveling all over the place and hed sent put the postcard as a way of extending an olive branch and then nobody showed up :/
Also Bruce's outfit change is purely for me I hate drawing his canon vest lmao
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lovesickeros · 6 months
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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 3 ]
{☆} characters neuvillette, wriothesley, furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ]
Wriothesley was not a man of superstition. He did not kneel at the altars until his knees bled, he did not pray until his voice gave out– he did not, contrary to popular belief, suffer divine punishment for his apparent lack of respect.
After all, what Divine would look so deep beneath the waves just for a glimpse of the sinners that inhabit it?
Not them, evidently.
He hadn't slept in the past four days, though. There was a heavy air of something where ever he walked– it followed him like a thick fog, lingering and choking him until it dragged him to his knees like a chain. His thoughts inevitably linger on the striking, extravagant letter so conveniently adorning his desk at the fortress– the broken wax seal, the letter tucked into his pocket.
He'd recognize the seal of the Iudex any day. Wasn't often he spoke to him– but the shaky, distorted words hastily etched into the paper made him pause. Neuvillette always had a steady hand– elegant, flowing script that him of flowing water.
It had kept him up for days.
The implications were..haunting. He'd poured over the letter for hours, illuminated only by faint light of his desk lamp. Yet no matter how many times he tries to see what must be hidden beneath the ink, the paper itself even, he finds nothing but the shaky script of a request that sends a bolt of pure frost through his veins.
He noticed, of course, the odd goings on of Fontaine. He'd heard vague whispers of the Divine's hunt for the imposter– he'd heard, too, of the ceaseless rain pelting Fontaine until even he wondered if the nation would finally sink beneath the waves.
It didn't, though. And that only made it all the more odd. Days of constant rain, just for it to stop suddenly..he tugged his coat tighter around him, throwing up the hood of the cloak clasped even tighter over it with a grunt as he leaned around the corner of the alleyway.
He didn't believe in superstition, but this was too hard to ignore as a simple weather anomaly.
Maybe that was why he ignored his gut– he knew that this was probably a trap, at the very least it was suspicious. But damn it, he couldn't ignore the instinct to follow the only lead he had.
His boots clicked against the rain stricken streets as he stalked through the shadows, mindful of the clinking of machine patrols just a few streets away. Yet every step felt heavier then the last as he took a long, good look at the Palais Mermonia. He almost considered bringing out his gauntlets, but he thought better of it– if it came down to it, he needed information. And he would need whoever was waiting for him alive for that– the dead don't speak and all that.
The letter's directions led him in a..rather roundabout entrance to a secluded room, evidently, as he lifted his hand and quietly knocked against the door. Two rapid knocks, pause, another knock, pause, four knocks. It doesn't take long until he hears the latch of the door unlock.
The leather of his gloves creaks as he clenches his fists, adjusting his stance. He's ready for a fight, if he must, but as the door quietly slides open he feel the weight on his shoulders relax slightly– the familiar, sharp features of Neuvillette meets him. He almost reflexively smiles at the way his pupils turn into thin slits, a momentary surprise that he quickly hides well behind a cough and the creak of the door as he pulls it open fully.
"Wriothesley. I see my letter has found you well. Please, come in." Polite as ever, Neuvillette steps aside to let him in, but he can see the exhaustion lining his features– the bags under his eyes aren't as well hidden as he thinks, at least to him. "Bit odd to be inviting me all the way out here in the middle of the night, don't you think?"
His tone is smooth as he steps into the room, brushing down his hood and glancing at Neuvillette over his shoulder, watching as he shuts and locks the door behind him.
"I apologize for the..less then ideal circumstances, but I'm certain you will understand when you see for yourself." He wants to retort, but the Iudex beats him to it, vaguely motioning to the room behind him. An invitation– but he wonders if it's worth taking.
His gut says no, but he's feeling a little risky today, he supposes.
He turns back slowly, barely able to make out the two figures he'd missed on the first glance on the other side of the room– though it's hard to mistake the flourish of the Hydro Archon, even in the dark. It's the other figure that makes the breath hitch in his throat, though.
Or maybe, more accurately, it freezes. So does his blood, his whole body even, locked in stasis for a long, tense moment– he can't see them clearly, but his instincts are going haywire. He can feel his vision almost rattle where it rests against his left shoulder, cold leaking through the layers of clothes and into his skin until he has to fight to suppress a shiver.
He'd always fancied himself the hunter– he was the one who dealt with unsavory folks, in the end. But he felt like a rabbit pinned beneath the crosshairs of a gun this time. He could almost feel the teeth of the bear trap snapping shut around him, crushing bone and flesh beneath cold metal.
For a long moment he thinks he feels fear.
And with a sharp click and a burst of light, it's gone and he takes a raspy, choked breath as he blinks away the blurriness in his vision, taking in the room illuminated by the lamp.
He's not sure what he sees is better, though.
Because his body knows that their Divinity is as real as the blood running through his veins.
So why do they remind him so much of himself? Why does he see the look of the boy who died in a pool of blood not his own in them?
It is a sick, cruel kind of familiar.
Wriothesley didn't believe in superstition– but that was born of the unknown. He knew, now. He could reach out and touch the truth with his own two hands.
The throne of the world was a lie.
The thing sitting on it bled red. And if it bled, it could die.
He clenched his fists tighter– and released, letting his shoulders slump with a huff and a half hearted chuckle. "I wasn't expecting you to be in possession of a wanted criminal when you sent me that letter." He could see the gears whirring in their heads, the subtle dampness in the air reminding him just how delicate a situation it truly was.
He wasn't particularly inclined to getting blasted by a jet of water today.
"Relax, I'm not going to spill to anyone else. Seriously– don't get my jacket wet. It's expensive and a nightmare to dry." His lips quirk into a half smile, but it twists into something almost genuine at the laugh covered up by a cough he hears from the Divine. Bingo.
"It's fine, Neuvillette. Let him go." Their voice is like honey dripping from their lips, and he has to close his jaw with his hand before they can see the way it dropped in his surprise. "Of course, most Divine. My apologies." He relaxes at the sharp click of his heels as he joins them on the bed, his posture far more relaxed then he's ever seen. The Hydro Archon, much to his confusion and amusement, is far too invested in playing with their hair to pay much attention to him now that things have calmed, evidently.
Huh.
They seemed pretty cozy about it, he noted. He guesses they three of them had some time to get acquainted.
"So..who's going to explain what the hell is going on?" He probed, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the three carefully– they all looked tired, but even through the exhaustion neither seemed inclined to stray too far from the Divine. "And what exactly your plan is? You can't keep hiding them here forever. Someone will sniff them out sooner or later."
"We are aware," Neuvillette interjects, lips pursed into a thin line and his thin brows furrowed. "But as I'm sure you've noticed, the hunt for the..forgive me, most Divine, but the hunt for the alleged imposter is still at it's peak."
He grumbles in acknowledgment, hanging up his cloak by the door and sliding out of his heavy coat, resting it over the back of a nearby chair. "Hm. Suppose that's why the patrols are so common now a days."
"I'm afraid so. As you can imagine, we cannot simply ask them to..stop the search. It would draw unwanted attention and suspicion. The Divine would be found immediately if we tried to bring them out of the city at the moment." Neuvillette added, looking proper and elegant, despite the circumstances– even in the face of the Divine and the Archon turning on him and tugging his hair into intricate braids. "So I hope you understand that it was a great risk to send you that letter."
He rubs his chin, huffing in amusement– a solid plan, maybe, but his power didn't extend too far out of the Fortress. He had his connections, sure, but what use were they when he had to get the, uh, "imposter" out of Fontaine? Smuggling them out wouldn't be easy, and then there's the point of where to take them they'd have to contend with.
"Yeah, yeah– I get it. But it's not like I can just smuggle them out or keep them in the fortress. Even if we got them out of the city, we'd have to find somewhere to bunker down, and if someone spots any of us lingering there.." Archons, what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He was really looking forward to the next time he could kick his feet up with a cup of tea.
"I understand. I have already made plans, in fact." Neuvillette hesitates, and he can feel the temperature drops a few degrees. "I..cannot share them in full at the moment, but it is not for a lack of trust." Neuvillette reasoned, hands folded neatly in his lap– not that it hid the way they shook slightly. He wanted to ask, but he thought better of it.
"Eh, I don't hold it against you. The walls have ears, even up here." He deflected, running a hand through his hair. He really hoped Sigewinne wouldn't ask too much when he gets back. "I trust your judgment." He hesitates for a long moment, pulling out a simple, neatly folded letter of his own.
"Memorize the code words, then burn it. I'll be waiting for your next letter." He murmurs, plucking his coat and cloak and tugging them back on one after another, shuffling back over to the latched door. He hesitates again, his hand lingering on the door.
"I just hope your plan is worth the risk, Neuvillette."
He leaves before he can respond, the harsh click of the door ringing in his ears even as he steps back into the shadows of the night.
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kathaynesart · 7 months
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What’s the whole idea behind the Farmer Leo AU? What’s the in-universe backstory? Very curious
Haha I'll be honest I have no lore for Cowboy/Farmer Leo. He's just a simple guy rustling up some cattle.
Now if you wanna talk about TRUCKER Leo, I have a whole headcanon lore about this bad boy (originally created by @giantrobotslug)! I'll get a Trucker trend going yet, haha!
He's just so silly, how could I not hyper-fixate?
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kaitokitty19 · 4 months
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(from @witchhakuba it won't let me switch accs) we've seen saguru and tiny kaito. but what about kaito and tiny saguru? 👀
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Ahhhh thank you for the ask and sorry I took so long to reply (I was sick 🤒)
Buttttt god, thank you for giving me the excuse to draw tiny Saguru 😘😘😘
Imo, if Saguru were to be drugged with APTX4689, it would be because he stumbled upon the Black Org at a heist and stepped in as they were about to harm Kaito. Kaito brought him home and they work together to find the antidote (and pandora). Now, instead of chasing after KID, Hakuba is put into a position where he has to cover up KID’s trail against other detectives (which he will have moral crisises about) and fend off the Black Org.
(Kaito becomes very protective of Tiny-guru because he felt guilty Hakuba’s drugged because of him).
Hakuba’s alias would be something like Arthur LeBlanc (Arthur Conan Doyle and Maurice LeBlanc - author of Arsene Lupin and Blanc means white, which Saguru took quite an offense to, but hey, Kaito’s the one forging documents here 🤷🏻‍♀️)
Unlike Conan, I don’t think Hakuba would let his parents know about his predicament. He doesn’t seem to be close with his parents and wouldn’t want to bother/endanger them. Each of his parents just thought he was staying with the other one. At most, he tells Bayaa.
Arthur enrolled into the same primary school as Conan, and immediately arose suspicion when the Detective Boys arrived at a murder scene only to be informed that the crime has already been solved by another first grader. Ai Haibara, especially, did not trust him and avoid Arthur at all costs. Conan further suspect him when Arthur shows up at every heist.
Ahhhhh please feed me more ideas! This was fun. I’d likely draw more atpx!Hakuba in the future!
Click here for the mini comic I made for this AU 🫶🏻
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harringroveera · 21 days
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Steve’s gonna force this universe to get Billy back with him no matter what it takes
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reineydraws · 27 days
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watched dead boy detectives and spent so much of it picturing young mihawk in charles's outfit so i made it happen and threw in an edwin!shanks bc ofc i did :')
if u like teen supernatural shows and ghosts and stuff, or worlds created by neil gaiman, i encourage u to check out the show! it's in the same 'verse as the sandman.
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