New York, 1922, the tempo of the city had changed sharply. Stocks reached record peaks, and Wall Street booms a steady golden roar. The buildings were higher, the parties were bigger, the morals were looser, and the ban on alcohol had backfired, making the liquor cheaper. Wall Street was luring the young and ambitious, and I was one of them.
I’d just like to say
that general admission for the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston was free the day
after the concert, and bitch I love me some art/history/free things, so my
friend and I went and I loved it. This is going to be kind of an exaggeration of
my actual experience going to this concert with my best friend, so I hope you
like it! Anywhooo………I’m gonna try to write my first smut, okay? Okay. Let’s see
how this goes!
Kwon Jiyong x Reader
“God, I still can’t believe it’s here. Can you believe it?”
I shook my head and chuckled, keeping my eyes on the road
ahead of me while my best friend, Ash, set up a playlist of G-Dragon’s set
list. It was finally here, and even at the beginning of a 3.5-hour road trip to
Houston, we couldn’t calm our nerves. It might have been eight in the morning
the day before the concert, but we were determined to have a little fun before we
had the best time of our lives. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt if we just happened to run into the one and only
“I know, I still can’t believe I made the fucking impulse
decision to buy the damn tickets with my entire paycheck. And maybe without my
parents being too entirely happy with it.”
“Honestly, let’s not even talk about it. Like Meme said,
let’s just go and have fun!” I smiled at the nickname for my grandma. She was
so pumped for this concert for me that I almost felt bad for not buying her a ticket. After all, she was the
only person in my family that would jam to Kwon Jiyong’s newest album and
fangirl over T.O.P. with me.
“That’s true, I guess. But thank God we both found good
paying jobs. Oh, and probably also that you were able to get off for the rest
of this week! Could you imagine doing this with the little money we made before
we got our degrees?” We laughed at the thought of traveling to Houston with the
small amount of money we made at our part time jobs. Ash was working at a
hospital closer to home after graduation until she would move on to grad school
in California, and I was lucky to land a training job with a Fortune 500
company that allowed me to work from home, traveling occasionally, and keep my
law internship before moving on to law school. To say the very least, we were
“I know, right? We wouldn’t have been able to afford this
nice ass hotel we’re staying at, either. It would have been the Rat-Hole 6 or
something.” She laughed, taking a swig from the coffee cup I had just placed in
the cup holder.
“Hey! Should’ve gotten your own!” I chastised, but smiled.
“So true. I guess we could call this our late graduation present.”
Ash agreed with me, and we soon slid into a comfortable
silence, jamming out to the songs we would soon hear live with our own ears.
A couple of weeks later, you were back to work with Briana at your side. Briana was your favorite co-worker, mostly because she was also your best friend and the two of you made a pretty good team behind the bar. Kim, the owner, often told you that the two of you were her favorites. You both worked well together and got shit done whereas most of the other bartenders were slow and incompetent. You and Bri also brought in the most customers. You had your usuals of course; the same men every week who would come in to drink and engage in small talk. You knew that they probably also liked to look at the two of you, which came along with the job. Most of the guys knew what the boundaries were though. They knew you’d flirt, wear revealing clothing, and talk to them just to get a nice tip out of them. You also knew that all of that worked well.
On this particular night, the bar began to pick up later on, customers trickling in and filling up the seats. You and Briana kept busy preparing drinks, talking, and laughing with each other. You glanced up at one point, watching the door as more customers entered the bar when you noticed a few of the guys from two weeks ago that had been in that band that played. You took a second look, trying to decide of you really did recognize them. Sure enough, you remembered seeing their faces before. Your eyes fell on the shorter man out of the three. You’d recall that smile anywhere. Too bad you had forgotten their names, you were sure you’d make some money off of them if you had remembered.
This wasn’t requested, but once I saw the prompt and knew what to do with it, I couldn’t let it go. Also, the title makes a lot more sense if you listen to this song. Yes, I listen to Taylor Swift. No I don’t feel bad about it.
You sipped your drink as the DA regaled the group with the story of his first victory. Again. You liked the guy enough, but since he was your boss, you’d heard the story at least 10 times before, and usually at parties like this one.
Although you attended these galas with some frequency, as it came with the territory of your job, you still had yet to find a way to break the monotony of it all. You arrived, schmoozed a little, drank a little more, ate some rubber chicken and wilted salad, and schmoozed a little more before racing home to take off the death traps some people called shoes and collapse into your bed.
Tonight didn’t seem like it was going to be any different. That’s when you noticed the gentleman across the room who looked just as bored as you were.
Because his ear was being bent by the police commissioner, and his proximity to a couple of individuals you recognized as members of the SVU squad, you guessed that he must be Rafael Barba. You’d heard about him, the man who’d been choked with a belt in open court, gotten a conviction by “accidentally” letting a perp see crime scene photos, and had inadvertently sent an ACS employee into a mental breakdown on the stand. With all of the excitement that followed him in court, it was no wonder that he was bored by the stifled conversation and bland food here.
Your train of thought came to a screeching halt when he approached you.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?” he quipped.
“From what I’ve heard about your exploits, it was only a matter of time before we got some real entertainment, I was just waiting for the show to start” you commented.
He let out a hearty chuckle, the first genuine one you’d heard all evening.
“Would you to take this conversation somewhere where the liquor is cheaper and the food has flavor?” you blurted, eyes widening with shock at your own bold question.
“That is incredibly tempting” he responded. “I actually happen to know a great place down the street that makes an amazing pizza, wood-fired oven and all. Let me say goodbye to my colleagues and we can head out.”
He rejoined you a few moments later. Linking your arm through his, the two of you left, not that anyone noticed you were gone. Maybe these rubber chicken dinners weren’t so bad after all.
The Great Gemini, chapter 1 (Raja x Violet) - TheDane & Polly
AN: Welcome to the roaring 20’s and the life of one Pearl Liaison. Life is hard for a single girl in the big apple, but rumor has it that on West Egg the booze flows free, the sky is the limit, and nothing can stop your dreams.
This is the prolouge/first chapter of a cisgirl/lesbian The Great Gatsby Inspired story from TheDane and Polly, kindly betaed by the darling Veronica. We hope you’ll enjoy the first chapter, and join us on our journey. Header is made by Polly!
A mischievous grin snaked through the crowd, as Maddy took in the sight of her beautifully new creation. She had always had a weird affixation for the 1920s. The parties were bigger, the morals were looser and the liquor was cheaper. It had sparked the idea of her new little business- Gatsby’s pop-up Speakeasy. She hadn’t told anyone what she was up to, in the off chance that she failed or hadn’t followed through. But now it was real. She had littered the streets with flyers the morning after Monster Jam. A speakeasy that would change locations once a month based on a famous book, movie or tv series.The location this month was in the basement of Wicked Good Books and the crowd had already been rolling in. She knew Monster Jam had just ended, but for a girl who drank her past away, the party never stopped.
Moving to the beat of the music, she took two shot off from one of the passing trays. Maddy reached the door, cracking it open slightly and cocking up an eyebrow before asking the person at the entrance, “Gotta a secret?” The secret being the password to get in.
movie: the great gatsby
cast: leonardo dicaprio, carey mulligan, tobey maguire
Stocks reached record peaks, and Wall Street boomed a steady golden roar. The parties were bigger, the shows were broader, the buildings were higher, the morals were looser, and the ban on alcohol had backfired. Making the liquor cheaper. Wall Street was luring the young and ambitious, and I was one of them.
bellamy is the bartender and clarke is like //really// drunk au
oops i meant send me fic recs but hell ill write it
“Barkeep,” a young, admittedly pretty, blonde girl slurred and Bellamy fought off an eye roll. He should have been used to this, bartending in Las Vegas for the majority of his legal life. Pretty girls always got slammed, too slammed for their own good for one reason or another -just got out of a relationship, got into a relationship, locking in said relationship with a drunken bachelorette party before the big white day, ohmygod girls night wooooo- and he had to put on a smile and serve them all.
Still, usually they at least looked trashy this time of night, with makeup smeared down their face, hair frizzed in all directions from the dancing, and their high heeled shoes hanging lazily between their fingers. This one looked rather well put together- aside from the fact she was nearly entirely draped across the top of his bar.
In the summer of 1922, the tempo of the city approached hysteria. Stocks reached record peaks and Wall Street boomed in a steady golden roar.
The parties were bigger.The shows were broader.The buildings were higher.
The morals were looser, and the ban on alcohol had backfired, making the liquor cheaper than ever.
One man captivated my imagination during that summer in New York, casting a dream-like glamour wherever he went. No one knew where he came from, or what he did, and we could never suspect what he was after.