#1920's au

[phoebe-delia]

All That Jazz

Entirely self-indulgent. This is a mini "Chicago" AU (as in the movie musical. yes I know it originated on the stage. I've seen both and I like the movie better so that's what I'm using). CW: mention of murders, jail, American AU, 1920's AU, Muggle AU, Past Harry/Male Character(s), Past Draco/Male Character(s), immoral characters. Also this isn't so much a warning as a note that I am writing CHARACTERS here and the views they express do not necessarily align with my own. Also I borrowed like. A couple lines from the movie lol.

Harry scowled at the newspaper clippings in front of him. One attorney advertisement after another. They all blended together after a while. He knew enough from listening to the shows on the radio that they'd have to give him a lawyer if he wanted one, but he didn't trust whatever government sleaze bag they'd stick him with. Besides, he had enough money saved up to afford his own. Thank god he'd made Mike get that prenup.

Hopefully, it wouldn't cost too much. He needed the rest of that money to get a place of his own. And an agent. Harry closed his eyes and let himself dream, for a moment, of life outside the jail cell. Of bright lights and tight costumes and roaring applause. He'd get there one day.

His daydreams were interrupted by the sound of boots clicking against the concrete floor. He frowned; the other inmates wore tennis shoes, and the warden had already done the hourly inspection. That meant there was a visitor.

Harry stood from his bed and walked to the door of his cell, watching with wide eyes as a tall, handsome man in a suit shook hands with—

No. It couldn't be.

"Draco Malfoy?" Harry gasped.

The strange man looked at Draco amusedly and said something to him Harry couldn't hear. Draco rolled his eyes and shooed the man away. He turned to face Harry expectantly while the stranger walked off.

Harry nearly tripped over himself to walk up to Draco. "You're the Draco Malfoy!"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"

Harry blushed. "I, er, I'm Harry Potter. You're not going to believe this but–but I was there! I was there at the club that night you killed your husband and your friend! When you were arrested!"

Draco scoffed. "Yeah, you and half of Chicago."

"Well, sure, but—I just have to say I'm such a huge fan. I loved that act you had! With your friend?"

"My former friend," Draco drawled. "Must you make me relive the worst night of my life? Or is there something else you'd like to discuss? I have work to do."

Harry looked away. "Er, sorry. What work?"

"On my defense. For my trial. Which is what you'd be working on too if you had half a wit."

"Hey," Harry frowned. "I'm still hiring a lawyer."

Draco laughed meanly. "Take your time with that. Definitely no rush or anything."

Harry crossed his arms. "Oh, yeah, like you've already got a lawyer."

"As a matter of fact I do."

"Oh yeah? Who."

Draco smirked. "You just saw him leave."

Harry's heart dropped. "That was your lawyer?"

"Mmhm. Blaise Zabini. Ring a bell?"

Harry shook his head. "Never heard of him."

"He's only the best criminal defense attorney in the state. Seriously, Harper. Open a newspaper sometime."

Harry frowned. "It's Harry."

Draco waved a hand and turned to walk into his cell. "Whatever."

Without thinking, Harry grabbed his wrist. "Wait—"

Draco yanked out of his grip with a sneer. "Don't touch me!"

Harry winced. "Sorry, it's just. D'you think Blaise Zabini would take my case?"

"Don't know. Don't care. Don't want to continue this conversation." Draco smiled sarcastically. "Goodbye Henry!" Draco stepped into his cell and shut the door in Harry's face.

Harry clenched his fists and shouted, "My name is Harry you asshole!"

When no response came, Harry sighed and walked back to his cell. When he returned, he grabbed a pen and ripped off the corner of his newspaper.

He pressed the paper against the wall and wrote: Blaise Zabini.

#yall are welcome I nearly had Harry kill Ginny but I didn't want to make it actually sad #Like heres the thing yall Chicago is about unjustified murder but its like...fun #You gotta suspend your moral compass for a bit #and root for people you dont wanna root for #anyway do not hate on chicago it is my favorite movie #YES I SAID MOVIE BECAUSE IVE SEEN THE STAGE VERSION TOO AND I LIKE THE MOVIE MUCH BETTER #THERE ARE FEW SHOWS I CAN SAY THAT ABOUT BUT ITS TRUE FOR CHICAGO #THE MOVIE IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE!!!! #AND IT SHOULD BE THE BLUEPRINT FOR ALL MOVIE MUSICALS!!! #I HAVE WRITTEN MULTIPLE ESSAYS ABOUT THIS I WILL DO IT AGAIN #okay rant over lol #CW: mention of murders #jail #American AU #1920's AU #Muggle AU #Past Harry/Male Character(s) #Past Draco/Male Character(s) #immoral characters. #drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco and harry #harry and draco #draco x harry #harry x draco #draco/harry #harry/draco #draco malfoy and harry potter #harry potter and draco malfoy

[ap0callypse]

So I'm obsessed with the 1920’s, I love the whole look of it and the Harlem renaissance so I thought, hey! What about a dungeons and daddies 1920’s alternate universe! (also its still in san dimas, ca, because it's been around since the 1800s)

The dads all know each other well. They've all known each other for years after their kids had ended up going missing.

-Darryl works, and owns, at his own bar and specializes in making his own beer. The bar has many different acts and works as a speakeasy for people of all genders, race and everything else. They have burlesque (and drag(because it's been around since the late 1800s)) and Glenn’s band on special days.

-Glenn has his own band and debuts their covers at Darryl’s bar. He travels to other places but is mainly in San Dimas.

-Jodie is just a cop, nothing changed.

-Henry works at a local store filled with different rocks, crystals and useless items (basically a thrift store). He also occasionally partakes in drag at Darryl’s bar.

-Ron is a struggling salesman, like always, but he's making the best of it. 

The moms all know each other also because of their kids going missing.

-Carol is a tailor/seamstress at a local shop. She has been having an affair with a local shop owner, Darnell.

-Morgan works at Darryl’s bar as a bartender and often travels with Glenn and the band.

-Mercedes is a professional burlesque dancer and works with Henry at the shop, mostly behind the curtain and paints posters for them.

-Samantha is a stay at home mom who is paid to send letters to others in need, she has been paid to move to a larger town but refused.

#dungeons and daddies #dndads au #1920's au #darryl wilson #glenn close dndads #henry oak #ron stampler #carol wilson #morgan freeman dndads #mercedes oak garcia #samantha stampler

[lilyfond-loves-you]

Nightmare sans

These are some of the first drawings I did for the au. This man has the privilege of being the heart of our timeline, with his rise to power being the first dated point of our timeline. He took power of his mafia group in 1920 exactly. He was 30 then.

#1920's au #nightmare sans #undertale au #sans au

[the-pinstriped-hood]

Right where you belong

The Warehouse the limo you pulled up to was large and lit, a fair ways outside of the city just near the harbour. You had been squished between two large mobsters in match pinstriped black and white suits, your fellow officers sitting opposite you, smoking like a pair of chimney stacks.

"Don't look so glum, Rookie. You need to know your place in the department and if the Commish won't straighten you out, the Boss sure will." Eddie started. He and Jack shared a laugh as the two mobsters stayed silent as the grave. The whole ride made you feel claustrophobic between being squeezed on either side and all the smoke pouring out the windows of the vehicle. It felt like an eternity as the car finally came to a halt and everyone was getting out, your cohorts keeping their hands on your shoulders to make sure you don't run.

The short gravel road led up to the imposing building as you were quietly praying for your life. Getting onto the police force was hard enough but now you were about to be found out and or shot by gangsters!

The small eyeslit in the door slid to the side, revealing a strange man's face and an eye peering out.

"We got a snitch for the Boss, Vinny. Open up!" Jack grinned. There was a gruff nod and the eyeslit was slammed shut only for the metal door to open and the group led inside.

You got a better look as you were being hauled upstairs towards the office. He was imposing, wearing a mask, his long hair pulled into a ponytail that hung over his shoulder. He eyed you with a head tilt and walked off to oversee his own duties.

The higher you got up the stairs the more of the operation you got to see. It was massive, barrels upon barrels of booze and moonshine were being shipped out, made and brought in from other places in the city. No doubt from other illegal moonshiners.

Eddie knocked upon the door and a short, scraggly toothed man opened up, sucking on a cigarette, in the same outfit as everyone else here except for you and your two crooked cohorts. "We need to speak to the boss. We caught this little snitch snooping 'round one of our drop offs. Tried to Arrest us, almost blew our operation open."

The shorter man, who was named Lester leaned against against the door frame.

"Yeah I'm sure he'd like to be notified." Lester got closer to you as you hid your face with your brim. "Something wrong with 'is face...."

"Bring the bastard close. I wanna have a chat with him.." a voice spoke. In the corner of the room the brim of his fedora hiding his eyes except for the end of his cigarette lighting his face barely. Your cohorts threw you Infront of the desk to your knees as you were left alone with the Boss.

You watched him get up slowly, crossing to the other side of the desk leaning against it.

"So, somebody wants to play hero? Chere, that's not how we do things here."

Bending down he held you by your chin forcing you to look up at him. He was an older gentleman by the looks of it, the most handsome blue eyes. The ones that matched the man at the door.

The Boss examined you quietly, slowly taking a knee to take a closer look his face breaking into a boyish smile.

"You certainly have them fooled, don't you kitten?"

You finally found your voice. "I don't-"

"Oh.." he crooned to you, "Please don't lie to me, you may have my brothers and everyone else fooled, but not me. What's a sweet little doll like you doing on the force, sneakin' around my storehouses?"

You were silent for a moment, looking like a guilty child who just had her hand caught in the cookie jar. "Now I'm not mad, I just wanna know what a sweet little thing like you was doing, hanging around a dirty place like that..." He pet your head, his voice almost a seductive southern whisper. You couldn't help but smile back.

"Was just trying to be a good cop...I saw something suspicious so I needed to do my job..."

The Boss chuckled. "Really? And who was sneaking around my storehouses that you saw suspicious?"

"My coworkers. They escorted me here, probably to have me killed or keep me quiet."

He nodded. "I see. Well, I know that women aren't really supposed to be on the force....I'll make you a deal, Doll. You keep this little meeting a secret, and I'll tell those two screwups you call Cops to keep your identity a secret. That way neither of us get in trouble, be such a shame to be rid of a pretty face like yours anyway. We have a deal?" He held out his hand.

His eyes met yours and you smiled, almost put into a trance like state. You shook his hand.

"Atta girl. Tell you what else, you tell me if anything else goes on and I'll reward you for it. Be my eyes and ears, I know I already have Tweedle Dee and Dum, but I know you could do so much better than those two. Coax way more info out of anyone there, give it a woman's touch..."

And so you were working with Bo Sinclair, the newest Southern Kingpin out by the harbor. Bo treated you like a confidant, a friend. A rose or two place on your desk at the station every day with a black ribbon and a tag on it signed 'From a Friend.'

#bo sinclair #slashers #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #lester Sinclair #1920's au #Mobster AU #@rottent33th

[truly-morgan]

Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines Additional Tags: Older Dipper Pines, Author Dipper Pines, mobster bill cipher, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Speakeasies, dipper makes bad life choice, Alternative Univers - Mafia, Human Bill Cipher Chapters: 8/? [30k words] Series: Part 1 of BillDip into the multiverse

Summary:

“Dipper got himself in trouble and doesn't want to involve his family in it, but he knows he can't pay back the debt he owns. One night as they are out in a famous speakeasy, the young author catches the attention from a dangerous mobster that people have nicknamed the Gold Demon who is promising him to take care of his problem if he accepts his proposition.”

#fanfiction #gravity falls #billdip #bill cipher #dipper pines #slow burn #mobster au #1920's au #i swear I haven't given up on my billdip stories #i just didn't have the time for them with school and my new interest TT~TT

[meep-boy-enjoyer]

samuel and howard, 1920′s boys

#samuel #howard #savage world #humans for now i suppose #1920's au

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

By Order Of The Crimson Brotherhood.

(peaky blinder!harry)

masterlist || ask me anything

in which, the year is 1921, and the city of manchester is under the control of the ruthless gang the crimson brotherhood, so when there leaders wife gets mobbed in the streets on her way home from the farmers market, the styles brothers make sure they know she is one of there own.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - ik this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but i have 100% been in my peaky blinders era as of the beginning of the month, im already on season four 🙈🙈 and thought it would be kind of cute to join the two worlds together, don’t know if this will turn out any good but who knows?? anywho enjoy angels 💗💞

January, 1921.

Harry Edward Styles, a man born and raised in the city of Manchester, a man known for his ruthlessness, his strong will and his dangerous antics.

Him aswell as his brothers roamed the streets of Holmes Chapel, with razor blades down into the flat caps which ultimately led to fear seeping into the bones of there enemies.

Which they had a lot of.

The Styles Brothers were well renown around those ends, the family always had been, there father wasn’t present and there mother died when the youngest brother was barely a year old.

Harry met you, his gorgeous girl at the age of nineteen, the two of you were childhood sweethearts, destined to be together no matter the circumstances.

You were wandering around the streets, when you bumped into him and his elder brothers Charlie and George. You were about to fall to the floor but your wrist was captured in the hands of the leader, who caught you and raised you back to your feet carefully.

You asked how you could return the favour and he muttered something along the lines of ‘you could let me take you out for a night on the town’

And the rest was history.

When the war broke out, Harry knew for a fact that he would be getting called up to represent his country, and at the point the two of you were already engaged, but he demanded that the two of you be husband and wife before he was shipped off, explaining that if he was to die, he wanted to die as your husband.

So, the two of you had a small ceremony and you officially became Mr and Mrs. Styles.

When he returned home from war, he demeanour was slightly colder due to everything that he had seen and been through, he was colder to everyone around him, except for you.

He could never be angry, harsh, callous or aggravated around you.

People feared him before he went to war, but when he returned it was like he was a ticking time bomb, one wrong move and heads would be blown.

He ruled Manchester.

And that would never, ever change.

In the heart of Manchester, you move with the grace of a queen, your every step echoing the legacy of the Crimson Brotherhood, the notorious gang led by your husband, Harry Styles.

Despite the weight of your marital ties, you refuse to be confined by the expectations placed upon you.

Alone at the market, you weave through the stalls with purpose, selecting the finest ingredients for the dinner you plan to prepare for your husband, and his brothers.

Determination fuels your steps as you pick out fresh produce, savory meats, and delicate spices, each item chosen with care to create a meal worthy of the Crimson Brotherhood.

You approach the butcher's stall with a slightly sense of innocence, the scent of freshly cut meat mingling with the bustling atmosphere of the market. As you exchange pleasantries with the butcher, you can't help but admire the array of cuts on display, each one a testament to the skill and expertise of the person behind the counter.

"Good afternoon, love. What can I get for you today?"

Returning the smile, you reply, "I'm looking for four round beef steaks, please."

One for you, one for Harry, one for Charlie and one for George.

The butcher nods, already reaching for the desired cuts. "Ah, excellent choice. Coming right up."

As they expertly select the steaks, you engage in friendly banter. "Busy day at the market?"

The butcher chuckles, their hands deftly working the meat. "Always is, especially with the sun shining like this. But I can't complain, keeps me on my toes."

You nod in agreement, admiring their skill. "I can imagine. Thank you for always providing such quality cuts."

With a satisfied grin, the butcher presents the four round beef steaks, neatly packaged and ready for you. "There you go, love. These should do the trick."

"Thank you so much," you reply gratefully, accepting the package. "I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure," the butcher says warmly. "Enjoy your meal."

With the package of steaks safely tucked into your basket, you bid farewell to the lively atmosphere of the farmers market. The sun's warm rays still linger, casting a golden glow over the bustling streets of Manchester.

As you walk, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having secured the ingredients for tonight's dinner.

Reaching into your basket, you retrieve a pair of gloves, slipping them onto your hands with practiced ease.

Just as you're about to slip the second glove onto your hand, a sudden grip tightens around your arm, pulling you forcefully backward.

Startled, you gasp as you're dragged into the dimly lit entrance of a secluded alleyway, the bustling sounds of the market fading into the distance behind you.

Heart pounding, you struggle against your assailant, your fingers instinctively tightening around the basket's handle, the package of steaks forgotten in your grip.

Panic surges through you as you're dragged deeper into the darkness, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

As the man's grip tightens around your arm, you're suddenly face to face with a stranger whose features are etched with menace. His blonde hair falls haphazardly across his scarred face, the jagged line drawing your attention to the intensity in his eyes.

The overpowering stench of rotten egg fills your nostrils, sending a shiver down your spine as he speaks.

"Just the girl I've been looking for," he growls, his words sending a chill through your trembling body. Tears blur your vision as you stare back at him, unable to comprehend the terror unfolding before you.

He was Irish.

In a voice thick with malice, he continues, his words slicing through the air like a blade. "Your husband and his brothers owe me, and I aim to collect. And what better way to send a message than through his darling wife?"

You try to speak, to plead for mercy, but fear has stolen your voice. Before you can utter a word, his fist connects with your jaw, sending you sprawling to the ground.

Gasping for breath, you curl into yourself, the pain radiating through your body like fire.

The man's laughter echoes off the walls, cold and cruel. "They crossed me, and now it's time to pay the price. And you, my dear, are the perfect pawn in this little game of ours."

As he delivers blow after brutal blow, each impact driving the air from your lungs, you cling to the faint hope that someone will come to your rescue.

But as the darkness closes in around you, you realize that you are utterly alone, at the mercy of a man whose cruelty knows no bounds.

With aching limbs, you muster the strength to push yourself upright, the world spinning around you as you struggle to focus through the haze of pain and fear.

Casting a wary glance over your shoulder, you retrieve the basket of food that had fallen to the ground during the attack.

With trembling hands, you wipe the dried blood from the corner of your mouth, the metallic taste lingering on your tongue as a grim reminder of the violence you've endured.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, you force yourself to take a step forward, the basket clutched tightly to your chest. Your movements are slow and unsteady, each step sending waves of agony rippling through your battered body.

As you reach the end of the alleyway, you pause, casting a furtive glance around to ensure that no one is watching. The last thing you need is for someone to see you in this state, vulnerable and exposed.

With a silent prayer for strength, you begin the agonizing journey home, every step a testament to your resilience in the face of unspeakable cruelty. Tears threaten to spill from your waterline, but you refuse to let them fall, determined to maintain a facade of strength until you reach the safety of your own four walls.

With each agonizing step, you inch closer to the familiar sight of 24 Spring Lane, your sanctuary from the horrors of the outside world.

The journey that once felt like a mere stroll now stretches out before you like an eternity, every movement a testament to the relentless ache that pulses through your battered body.

Finally, you reach the doorstep, the key trembling in your hand as you struggle to insert it into the lock. Your fingers fumble with the familiar motion, the simple act of unlocking the door now a monumental task in your weakened state.

As you push open the door and step inside, relief washes over you, tempered only by the searing pain that courses through your body with each labored breath.

The injuries inflicted upon you by your assailant are beginning to take their toll, the dull throb in your ribs now accompanied by a sharp sting at the top of your eyebrow.

Unaware of your husband's presence, you stagger into the living room, your focus consumed by the overwhelming need to seek refuge from the torment of the outside world. But as you drop the basket to the floor and collapse onto the ground, a cry of pain escapes your lips, the weight of your injuries too much to bear alone.

In the dim light of the room, you catch a glimpse of Harry sitting in the corner, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

His expression is unreadable, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond your line of sight.

As you collapse onto the floor, your body wracked with pain, Harry's instinct kicks in, propelling him across the room in a blur of motion. With a sense of urgency, he drops his cigarette and rushes to your side, his hands reaching out to catch you before your skull can meet the unforgiving wooden floor.

His eyes widen in shock and concern as he takes in the extent of your injuries, his heart clenching at the sight of blood staining your face and clothes. Gently, he cradles the back of your head, his touch both tender and urgent as he ensures your safety in the midst of the chaos.

"M’Love, what happened?" Harry's voice is thick with worry, his usually steady demeanor shaken by the sight of you in such distress.

He carefully brushes the hair from your face, his touch feather-light against your bruised skin.

You struggle to find the words to answer him, the pain making it difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak. But as you meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding that passes between you is enough to convey the depths of your suffering.

Without hesitation, Harry gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a fierce protectiveness that belies the tenderness in his touch. As he holds you close, you feel a sense of safety wash over you, a comforting reminder that no matter the trials you may face, you will always find refuge in his embrace.

As Harry holds you close, his voice filled with concern, he gently urges you to tell him who is responsible for your injuries. But fear grips you tightly, paralyzing your voice as you shake your head vehemently, unable to form the words to convey the terror that still grips your heart.

"Please, love," Harry implores, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reassurance. "Y’need to tell me who did this. I won't let ‘em hurt you again, I promise."

But the memory of the man's cruel laughter and the violence he inflicted upon you looms large in your mind, filling you with a sense of dread at the thought of facing him again. How can you trust that Harry's promise will hold against such ruthless brutality?

Tears stream down your face as you cling to Harry, your body trembling with the weight of your fear and pain. You long to confide in him, to share the burden of your suffering, but the words remain trapped within you, a silent scream of anguish and despair.

In response to your silent plea, Harry's grip tightens around you, his arms a shield against the darkness that threatens to consume you.

"I swear to you, (Y/N)," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within you. "Whoever did this won't ever be able to hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."

"I... I don't know his name," you manage to say, your voice trembling with fear and pain. "But he... he had blonde hair and... and a scar."

Harry's expression darkens as he processes your words. "Patrick McDonald," he mutters, his voice laced with anger and recognition. "Bloody hell."

Another wave of pain radiates from your ribs, causing you to instinctively turn your head into your husband's chest, seeking comfort in his embrace.

As you lean against him, Harry's arms tighten around you, a silent vow of protection against the threat that looms on the horizon.

"I'll deal with him," he promises, his voice a low growl. "No one hurts my wife and gets away with it."

“George, Charlie!”

You hadn't even realized they were in the house, lost in the chaos of your own pain and fear, but now they appear, their presence a welcome relief amidst the turmoil.

With wide eyes, George and Charlie rush into the room, their expressions shifting from confusion to concern as they take in the sight of you battered and bruised on the floor.

"What happened to ‘er?" George demands, his voice edged with worry as he kneels beside you, his hands hovering over your injuries.

Harry's jaw clenches with barely contained fury as he speaks the name that has haunted your nightmares since the attack.

"Patrick McDonald," he growls, his voice thick with anger and determination.

Charley lets out a harsh breath, his expression darkening with recognition.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, his fists clenching at his sides.

As the gravity of the situation sinks in, George's gaze flickers between you and his brothers, his features set in a steely resolve.

"We need to find him," he declares, his voice firm with determination.

Harry nods in agreement, his eyes burning with a fierce determination.

"And when we do, he'll wish he'd never laid a hand on her," he vows, his voice a low growl.

With trembling hands, you grip tight onto your husband's waistcoat, your eyes pleading with him not to leave your side.

"Please, H," you beg, your voice wavering with fear and desperation. "Don't leave me."

Harry's gaze softens as he looks down at you, his heart aching at the sight of your pain.

"I have to, m’love," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "That bastard deserves hell f’what he did to you, and he's going to get what's coming to him."

You shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your bruised cheeks.

"But I need you here," you plead, your voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos of the room. "I'm scared, H. Please don't leave me alone."

For a moment, Harry's resolve wavers, his love for you outweighing the thirst for vengeance burning within him. But then, with a heavy heart, he gently extricates himself from your grasp, his eyes filled with determination as he rises to his feet.

"I promise, (Y/N)," he says, his voice firm with resolve. "When we find him, he's going to hurt just like he hurt you, s’a promise, and I never, ever break promises. He’ll get what’s coming to him one way or another.”

“By order of the Crimson Brotherhood."

#musicforastylesrestaurant #harry styles #peaky blinders #peakyblinder!harry #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x oc #1920’s #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harrystylesxreader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry’s house #harrystylesxyn #dad!harry #dadrry

[fancy11schmancy]

Here’s the current designs for the 1920’s ZelAU plushies! These will be a special and extremely limited release since I am going to just be making them for fun!✨💚 im not sure how long their finished versions will take, but i will post another update once they’ve been made!✨

AU Link will also come with his hat!💚

#the legend of zelda #twilight princess #zelda au #1920’s x zelda #legend of zelda #the chateau of the red moon zelda au #zelda twilight princess #1920s aesthetic #tp zelda #link loz #midna true form #tp midna #tp princess zelda #tp zant #plushies #loz midna #zant #loz zelda #tp link

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

𝑅𝓊𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝓉

Detective! Leon Kennedy x Jazz club singer! Ada Wong 1920s AU (contains dark themes and 💋♡ )

also a part of day 6 - historical @aeonweek

guide ♡ - fluff / 💋 - you'know / ☁ - angst

[my ao3] [my masterlist] [my artwork and moodboards]

Photo credits: middle aeon pic @katshinigami also yes i used a katherine pierce pic for the 9th pic.

#ada wong #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #aeon #leon x ada #leon kennedy x ada wong #leon s kennedy x ada wong #ada wong x leon kennedy #aeonweek #aeon week #1920s au #レオエイ #aeonweek2023 #aeon week 2023

[writtenndust]

‘death, is only the beginning’ - a Ted Lasso AU

Their expedition to locate the Lost City of Ammaset was funded in full by one nondescript The Honourable R.W. with no further information. Ted had flipped the letter over in his hand several times, searching, he wasn’t sure what for.

The letter was typed, the crest was unfamiliar and the postmark on the envelope stated only that it had originated in Cairo.

Ted saw it as fate. Beard was a touch more sceptical.

#ted lasso #fanfiction #ted/rebecca #Rebecca Welton #Keeley Jones #Roy Kent #Willis Beard #ancient egyptian #1920's au aesthetic #explorers

[essenceofarda]

ngl i'm kinda blown away by the response on my Farawyn 1920's au mini comic 😅

Kinda makes me wanna turn it into an actual multi-chapter fic 🤔

Anyone interested in reading it if i do??

#lotr #lord of the rings #lotr fic #farawyn #eowyn #faramir #faramir/eowyn #faramir x eowyn #tolkien fic #my writing #I'm been... thinking non-stop about the fic/au LOL #Kinda wanna turn it into an actual fic heh #hopefully the person who sent the prompt doesn't mind tho! #i gave my own spin on the prompt... so hopefully it's okay if i turn it into an actual fic but y'know #Lothiriel x Eomer will feature heavily too as a side plot heh #also someone in the tags was like 'faramir having a crisis in a non-existent love triangle' and i'm like 'YES! you get the gist of the fic! #haha #it's kinda similar in... concept? To my “When fate Calls” WW1 au #but this is different in plot and also 1920's so fun in a different way

[ladychandraofthemoone]

Some old narrow gauge Nia doodles I’ve done over the past month, Nia’s livery was inspired by 🌺mrterrier673🌺 on Twitter

Saw some edits of Nia with glasses and I fell in love we need more engines with accessories

Some pannier shaped siblings, they met pre-msr days (they didn’t come in the same time)but were very happy to reunite with one another in the msr then in the Skarloey Railway 😊☺️

Their sibling friendship/relationship is like alastor and Rosie or Mary and jack, Nia didn’t care about Stanley’s “jinx” and defended him whenever he got bullied, she’s one of the very few folks who can make Stanley genuinely happy and do things like singing much to his colleagues surprise (also livery inspiration for one another♥️❤️🧡💜💛🖤)

#ttte #ttte stanley #rws stanley #ttte nia #msr #msr stanley #rws #railway series #the railway series #my art #my art <3 #my art stuff #doodle #sketch #my doodles #my sketches #my sketchy art #my sketchbook #Nia is a ngr class n 4-6-2t 1906 in my au inspired by others folks take but was bulit in Nairobi central workshops #wanted to do a 1920s musical song but been playing Mary popping songs on loop and that is one of their influences #the first/last nia pic r poll picsdon’t know when they started bursting into song but yeah duke may be happy that they’re reunited not happ #When they’re singing the same song every day 😅sucks that’s their is only one pic of the basis I wanna use so sorry about that also I’m on t #give engines more facial accessories and other things like whiff;s glasses and Rosie’s and Kevin’s freckles making Nia;s livery purple and #orange I need to digitally draw them I did Nia’s human form and still finishing my 4/4 but Nia and Stan have been revolving in my mind a lo #I like to think they got liveries inspired by one another like the stripes/bands on their domes and yellow for Kyle 🥲

[lilyfond-loves-you]

(this is just a general post introducing my au I guess)

I have made a massive au with my best friend. It has a basic mafia vs cops plot with lots of derailment when focusing on any one individual character.

Each character has been given a backstory though some are much more interesting than others.

We have tried to keep things as close to the era it's based in as possible so if you want to dig into when Wonder bread officially allowed them to have that classic over processed sliced bread I can provide that for you!

Unfortunately the lingo of the time is beyond us so if i ever get into dialogue specific conversations it will be missing that charm.

The main story is based around nightmare and dream but if you were to ask about any one guy I could probably tell you in detail what they are doing, weather that is running an Orthodox religion to be allowed alcohol and getting a little to into it. (it is the 1920's after all) or dating and living a serial killer to try and wiggle a confession out of them.

Everyone will live to the end but a happy ending is unfortunately not guaranteed.

#undertale au #1920's au #nightmare sans #dream sans #sans au #bad sanses #sorry for this tagging lol #i just want to cover most of my bases

[the-pinstriped-hood]

Where you belong

Part 2

Well this was certainly a hit with you guys especially @slaasherslut and @rottent33th so, here's more!

You had been on Bo's payroll for a long time now, having his ear and keeping the others in line. A confidant, an advisor.

The men under you certainly were not pleased with a woman running the show now so high up with both Vincent and Lester.

Bo had taught you that the prohibition was all a bunch of government hooey. Wade Wheeler was just some highstrung republican with a stick up his ass and caused this whole problem.

But with problems came opportunity. Bo and his brothers had waltzed in to another mobsters turf, taken it over and made it theirs. They were rolling in money from the selling of illegal alcohol, running several speakeasies and keeping the entire city police force quiet and content.

You had been found out unfortunately and the commissioner had no choice but to keep you on as his secretary because you had Bo's attention just to keep things quiet.

He met you out on a lone set of docks one night, waves crashing lazily against the wooden legs holding it up. Dressed up in his usual suit with his jacket missing and his sleeves rolled up. You walked out onto the dock in a tight red dress he had discreetly gifted you. He finally noticed you and smiled snuffing his cigarette out under his heel.

"There she is....you look good kitten, I knew when I saw that dress you would look like an angel." He smiled, taking your hand.

"And how was your day?" You teased.

Feigning fatigue he moaned. "You wouldn't believe it, bossin' people around all day is such hard work....but I got to give some poor bastard cement shoes today. Thanks again for the tip, Y/N."

You beamed. "Well I really tried giving him a way out but, some men just aren't swayed by money or glory. What a shame..." You shrugged.

"Damn sense of morality...but we are makin' more money than we ever dreamed thanks to you." He gently booped your nose.

You two sat down on the bench as he leaned back. Gulls called even late into the night, soaring high over the sea. It was so peaceful, but Bo's thoughts weren't on business. They were on you. You had made him so happy, sticking around like you did and ratting off to the government about his plans. Not being scared off by how many people he's gotten rid of...you stuck with him. And more and more he fell for you. He loved seeing your smile, everytime you walked though the warehouse doors. And everytime you got angry at his men for a fuckup, you were so cute when you were angry you even had the balls to shoot a guy! What Moxxie!!

While your eyes were focused on the horizon he gently grabbed your hands.

"Y/N....I gotta ask.....will you be my girl?"

#bo sinclair #slashers #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #1920's au

[fancy11nancy]

Posting 1920’s AU midna preview here since its not the full concept art, but AUGH IM SO CLOSE TO FINISHING HER FIRST CONCEPT RENDERS!!!

Keep up with the rest of my AU stuff here!

#illustration #wip #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #twilight princess #zelda au #1920s aesthetic #zelda twilight princess #1920’s x zelda #midna true form #midna #loz midna #the chateau of the red moon zelda au

[riothyena]

I wonder who gave hs!Bendy a Tommy gun…

#hell's studio au #bendy #batim #art #1920’s inspired #tommy gun