Jan 14, 2025
ok i caved heres some AU sketches while i figure out how their dynamics gonna work
good luck with making sense of anything yet
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ok i caved heres some AU sketches while i figure out how their dynamics gonna work
good luck with making sense of anything yet
Just some concept art for the new AU~
I was going for more of a "roaring 20's" vibe
But also mafia :)
Definitely going to draw more crime art for these guys but these are just some sketches
Young & Beautiful~The Millionaire & The Canary
Word Count: 2.6k+ Warnings: Mentions of violence, domestic violence, organized crime, murder, and death A/N: Sorry this took so long to post I was had a really bad reaction to my booster shot so I wasn’t able to really get any work done up until a day or two ago even then I struggle a bit. Hopefully the wait was worth it though. As for the music that inspired this piece it was a mix of Postmodern Jukebox’s covers, Why Don’t You Do Right? the Amy Irving version, and Lana Del Rey’s Young and Beautiful. Other than that I hope you enjoy. Reincarnate Masterlist KPOP Masterlist
1923
Jazz and warm lights filled the air as trumpets blared through the club. The atmosphere was exactly what Yeosang needed after a long week at the office. It was the era of lavish and luxury, a time to celebrate anything and everything. He took his usual booth joining his friends as they ordered drinks to enjoy while resting against the red velvet seats. He loosened his tie as the lights dimmed preparing for the next act. She was introduced as a new singer in town, known to make grown men swoon at her presence and voice. She had stolen the hearts of many but never stayed in one place too long causing a trail of broken hearts to follow behind her. He scoffed at the telling of such a tale saying it was probably a made-up story to draw attention but as soon as she began to sing the first line of Why Don’t You Do Right? by Peggy Lee he too like the rest of them was entranced by her smooth voice and piercing gaze. Her hips swayed to the slow beat of the music before making her way into the crowd during the second verse causing the men to howl and whistle attempting to catch her attention. Too focused on her to notice as was now in front of them as she took a seat on their table, her satin dress rising slightly as she bent her knee. His friends cheered as Yeosang sat speechless at the center of the table. As she sang the song’s title she pulled Yeosang close by his tie causing him to swallow air as they made eye contact. His eyes could only widen as she swung her legs around effortlessly so that her legs were crossed in front of him within reach but he dared not to touch her afraid he’d melt on the spot. Her gown, despite having a slit that offered a more flexible movement, left little to the imagination by the way it was splayed across the table. Just as he stood to reach her, his face centimeters away from hers now fully under her spell she pulled away, letting go of him as she pushed him back to his seat, her heel against his chest as she finished the song. She walked away as the outro played and he couldn’t help but feel his brain go fuzzy as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Miss Red and Mister Snow
It's a busy day in the bar as usual. Langa weaves through his many patrons, the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke filling his nostrils with every breath. If he wasn't already used to this overwhelming mixture of scents, he probably would have thrown up by now. But, in his job, this sort of thing is normal.
The same could be said about the uproarious noise, men and women talking to each other about their days and lives. The music from the jazz band playing loud enough to be heard over the chatter, the clinking of ice and the mixing of beverages. Even the stomping of some tenants' feet.
Langa ignores it all in favor of getting to the front of the usual crowd, finding his reserved table. No one but him and the people of his choosing are allowed to sit here, the very best seat in the entire bar.
Tonight a new group of flapper dancers are coming into preform, after months of negotiation on both ends. Neither wants to be found out or linked back to the other, so they had to sit through many, many discussions. They finally found a day and a way for the group to sneak in without being suspected of anything, and currently, they are getting ready in the backstage area.
They should be out any minute now, which is why Langa is already sitting at his table. He crosses one leg over the other, his recently cleaned black shoes shining in the stage light. He'd slicked his hair back today to keep it out of his face, and he's wearing his favorite blue pinstriped suit, with the matching pair of pants to go with it. He'd like to make a good impression on this group in case he likes them, and would like them to partner up with his bar and business. After all, he does not yet have a regular flapper group that attends his bar even though they've been open for half a year now.
All of the best bootlegging bars have a regular dance group and jazz band. And while Langa has the latter, it's been hard to find a dance group to his liking. He's picky like that.
A moment later, and the lights flicker off. The crowd of people fall silent as the stage lights turn on one by one, revealing a small group of flapper dancers, all with their own colored dress. They're all beautiful in their own right.
But Langa can't look away from the lead dancer, who's dress is a bright red with black stripes going down from the shoulders to their stomach, where a large, intricate pattern is formed. If Langa looks closely, he could see that the pattern slightly forms a hibiscus flower. The black lines continue past this flower design, and create flaps at the bottom of the dress. Orange jewels and gold, hanging sequins decorate the black lines of the dress, and the girl’s hair- redder than her dress- is smoothed back into a bobbed, slick style that is so popular with the ladies right now. A golden band of beads is weaved into her hair, which dangles a little on her face.
She's wearing a pair of golden slippers that open on the top and close around the toes. Even these shoes have red jewels on them on the top of the area her toes would be.
She's standing at the front of the stage, one hand holding a microphone close to her lips, while the other is propped on her propped up hip. She’s smiling, a beautiful sight that Langa wants to take a picture of and hand on his wall. He would even find a way to make the picture colored so he could see her in all of her beauty. Her lips are colored with a brig red lipstick to match her dress, and her lashes are fluffed up by mascara.
“Hello everybody!” she says into the mic, her playful tone evident in her voice. She has a similar lilt as other flapper dancers, that sounds amazing in her voice. The crowd is a mixture of calls and wolfish whistles. They must think she's cute, too. “How are y'all doin’ tonight?”
There's more hooting and clapping from the crowd, cigarette smoke making a thin cloud over the audience. Langa can't stop staring at this flapper; she’s gorgeous.
“Well, that is great to hear!” she continues, flashing a bright grin at the crowd that has basically devolved into a pack of animals from her appearance alone. She seems unphased by it- probably used to this reaction. Langa isn't, though, and he wants nothing more than to punch anyone who so much as looks at her the wrong way. She shouldn't be treated like a piece of meat. “You all can call me Miss Red!” She then looks over at Langa, and does a small curtesy in his direction. He nearly passes out under her gaze. “And I'd like to thank Mister Snow over here for lettin’ us come in tonight.”
Langa nods his head in response, since he doesn't know what else to do. She merely winks at him and he nearly passes out all over again.
Then, Miss Red claps her hands together and backs up into the line of other dancers. The lights brighten to shine off of the sequins and jewels attached to their dresses, and they start their routine, first with the Charleston before moving into the foxtrot.
Langa tries to watch a few of the other dancers, but his eyes keep drifting back Miss Red’s pretty face. She does the unthinkable after a few minutes of dancing; she starts seeing a song, which the jazz band seems to know, as they play along with her voice. Her singing voice is beautiful and powerful, echoing around the clamor of clapping and howling men:
“Now look me over carefully
All dolled up from A to Z
Guess you wonder where I'm gonna go
I'm excited, I'll admit
And you don't know the half of it
I'm gonna meet the one that I love so
Hey, hey, clear the way
Looks like this is my lucky day
I'm gonna meet my sweetie now
I can't be annoyed
Am I happy, am I overjoyed
I'm gonna meet my sweetie now!”
She sings it beautifully, and Langa loves her take on the popular song “I'm Gonna Meet My Sweetie Now”. He may even like it more than the original version, with the way she sings the verses and words, and the way the jazz band is playing as an energetic version of the song.
“Hey-hey-hey, just got through
Manicure and a good shampoo
I'm gonna meet my sweetie now
Yes indeedy, just got a brand new hat
Brand new this and a brand new that
I'm gonna meet my sweetie now
When I think of how his arms come stealin'
I'm so nervous, girls, you know the feelin'
I'm just nearly wild
Come on, mother, and save your child
I'm gonna meet my sweetie now!”
The dancers switch to the scandalous shimmy, causing the hollering from the crowd to double. Their dresses flip this way and that, looping around their thighs and almost rising higher than they should as they dance with a partner, pressing so close that the men cheer. Langa feels his face heat up. He doesn't see the shimmy very often, and to see Miss Red going through the steps makes him hot. It's also banned in most places, so you don't see this style as often as say a black bottom or foxtrot.
Then, Miss Red peels from her partner- a tall, dark woman with piercing eyes- and approaches the microphone once more. She catches her breath before finishing the song:
“That's all!”
The jazz music dies down and every flapper in the group bows, before exiting the stage, even as the crowd calls, “Encore! Encore!” Well, it doesn't seem like they're getting an encore. Instead, they get blown kisses and dainty waves of goodbye.
Langa stands up, because now he has to meet these amazing women (Miss Red) and ask them to become regulars. He could pay them handsomely; he has more than enough money to spare from bootlegging. He slips to the backstage, and follows the twisting of the balls until finds the changing room. He doesn't barge in, just in case they're still changing, but does knock.
The door cracks open, revealing Miss Red’s pretty face. She still has her makeup on and hasn't changed yet, but she does have a pair of pants beneath the skirt. When she sees who it is, she offers a shy smile and courtesies for him once more.
“Mister Snow,” she says in greeting. She slips through the crack she'd made in the door to stand with him in the hall, her hands clasped behind her back politely. “What did you think of the show? Hope it was to your liking.” She winks at him, and Langa could feel himself getting hot all over again.
He clears his throat, and nods his head. “It was amazing,” he replies, keeping his dignity about himself. “And you were especially amazing.”
Miss Red chuckles at him, and he loves the sound. He's starting to love everything about her. “Well I'm glad you think so,” she says airily with another small smile. “Now, what did you need, honey dear?”
‘Honey dear’. Langa is going to lose it. If anyone else had called him that, he would have snapped at them. But it sounds so good when it's coming from Miss Red.
“I was wanting to discuss with your manager about you becoming regulars here at my bar,” he explains, and clasps his hands behind his back. She's a tad shorter than she is, but she holds herself well enough that it's as if she is the same height as him. “Where is he?”
“Right here, darling,” Miss Red answers, taking Langa by surprise. He blinks owlishly at her, shocked by her answer. Usually, a flapper group such as this would have a man in charge to arrange things. Maybe the man they’d sent to the meetings had just been a connection, so that it wouldn't trace back to them. There aren't many women who take charge of this sort of thing, if at all. She smirks at him, resting a hand on her hip. “You look shocked.”
“Well- I'll be honest, I am,” Langa replies hesitantly. “But I find it amazing that you manage your own group. Sorry to have implied you were a man at all.”
She laughs a bit louder than before, like afternoon bells chiming. She covers her mouth with one of her hands, and says, “Not to fear. I am both, after all.”
Once more surprised, Langa gawks at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me right,” Miss Red says nonchalantly. “I am both a man, and a woman. I can be whatever you'd want me to be.” She winks at him while saying this last part, and even though he’s saying he's a man, he feels his face heating up all over again.
“So… you go by both male and female?” Langa asks slowly, trying to unravel it in his brain.
“That is correct, darling,” Miss Red says in confirmation. “If that is too strange for you, or changes your opinion of our group, then we shall take our leave once we've received our payment.”
He’s going to enter the dressing room, but Langa reaches out and grabs her wrist before thinking. She pauses, and looks back at him with a raised eyebrow.
“No!” Langa exclaims. “I don't quite yet fully understand it, but my opinion of you and your group has not changed. You are still welcome to become the regular dance group here.”
Miss Red peers at his face, as if trying to see if he's lying. He presses his lipstick painted lips together, before smiling at him once more. That smile is driving Langa insane, just like the rest of her….
“Well then, I'll take your offer up on that,” she says eventually, and slips her hand against his, intertwining their fingers together. Langa’s face becomes so hot he's afraid it's going to melt off. “As long as the pay here is good enough for my girls. We need to make a living, after all.”
“I'll pay you double than the average fee,” Langa replies quickly, and Miss Red’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. He smiles, nodding eagerly. “You have my word that your girls will always be safe and taken care of here. And I always keep my word, Miss Red.”
She hums softly, and then brushes her fingertips along the curve of Langa’s cheekbones. He goes still, her touches gentle and featherlight. She leans in close, their breaths mingling. “Well, I wouldn't mind the view out in our crowd, either,” he says, and Langa swallows heavily at how deep his voice has become. This is scandalous, getting so close to a lady after just meeting her, but he can't resist, especially when she’s the one initiating it. “You do have a pretty face, Mister Snow.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, butterflies forming in his stomach. “How can you say that when you're standing in front of me, hm?” he says, deciding to flirt back. Her eyes widen, and he sees a flush of red bloom across her cheeks. Rex really is his color. And it's starting to become Langa’s favorite. “You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”
“Oh, you're just too much!” she says with laughter, playfully pushing on his chest. He stumbles a little, taken aback by his strength. She covers her mouth once more as she laughs, the red still painting her cheeks. He has freckles, Langa realizes. They just make her appear ever more beautiful. Especially when paired with her shining, honey amber eyes.
Her laughter tapers off, all the while Langa waits patiently for her to finish, softly smiling at her. Miss Red takes notice of this, and snorts softly. “Anyways, Mister Snow, I really must get back to cleaning up. Would you like us to come back tomorrow night, same time?”
“That would be splendid,” Langa replies easily. He catches her hand again, and brings it up to press a kiss to the knuckles. She huffs out a laugh at the action, and when he looks up he’s rolling his eyes. But, that red blush is still on his cheeks, an even darker shade than before. “It was nice to meet you, Miss Red.”
She pauses, before saying, “Do call me Reki, Mister Snow. That's my real name.”
Reki. It fits her.
“Just don't go announcing it everyone you run into, you hear?” she says teasingly, and he quickly nods.
“Of course not, Reki,” he replies. He hesitates for one moment before saying, “And you may call me Langa. Same rules apply.”
Reki smiles at him brightly, taking his breath away all over again. He should ask him out on a date, so he could see her outside of the bar, too. But his jaws lock, words getting stuck in his throat before he could. If Reki was both a man and woman, wouldn't that make him gay? And while he doesn't have a problem against gay people, he's never thought himself to be gay.
“Of course, Langa,” she says, and Langa likes the way he says his name. “Goodnight, darling.”
“And goodnight to you,” he answers, and they nod to one another.
Then, Reki opens the door, a burst of squealing and laughter from the other flappers erupting outside. She giggles, before heading inside, closing the door behind himself.
Langa stares at the door for a few minutes longer, wishing that he could call Reki back and invite him to go out together at some point. Men go out together all the time. It didn't have to be a date.
But his heart is racing too fast, and the thought of asking makes his very breath falter. So instead, he heads back to the bar, ready to start the closing preparations.
"You're an absolute lush and a charlatan."
"Oh, Angie, you're making me blush."
Sketches from the Halloween chapter of my 1920's DARE AU (18+) Leave it to Muds to go to a fancy party as the Masque of the Red Death.
i think the middle class one is the 20s fic with brandon and stuff?? i'd love to hear more if there are any updates!!
Hey!! @leialannister
Thanks for the ask! My middle class AU is actually about widower Ned who lost his wife because she died of ALS (this is inspired also by Sean’s character Kyle in North Country) who meets the new woman in town, Catelyn, at the pub. In this AU, Cat is unmarried and independent (this is a bit inspired by chelle’s character in Edith) but had one child she gave up for adoption because she had the child at the wrong time and could not support the child financially who was born with poor health. Ned and Cat in this AU are struggling with midlife crisis; feel unforgiven for their past mistakes and that they are too late to succeed in life but their love teaches them to dream again, rekindling the long buried passion in their youth and let go of their past by resolving their traumas so they can move forward to achieve what truly makes them happy! And they did it!
As for my 20s AU here’s a little snippet!
“Ned!” Cat exclaims as she grabbed on his sleeve and turned him around to push him toward a hidden corner in the garage.
“Cat....“ Ned could only say her name as she hastily kissed him, a forbidden gesture that made him drop the briefcase from his hand. She had to say her farewell before she could let him go. No, she would never do that. She would promise to herself that no one will ever find out as she follows him to Paris. She was very proud of him. He just earned his full scholarship from the charity of a French automobile engineer who discovered him and granted him the opportunity to study at the prestigious engineering school that he owned.
“Catelyn! Catelyn! Where are you?” Brandon called from a far. She pretended that she did not hear his voice at all because Ned was the only one that mattered to her now. She was foolish to have married Brandon as early as 17, the fantasy prince of nobles and socialites who gave her the most luxurious wedding but nothing else other than that.
“Stop or else you’ll get caught. You shouldn’t have done that.” Ned gently took her face off of him. He had once loved her, not at first sight but from the moment she had defended him from Brandon’s friends. It was to her that he had confided to but she had loved Brandon more and Brandon vowed that he would make her his wife. He would not stand in the way. He cared for them both more than he ever cared for himself. Ned had given up on her as soon as they had married. As for Cat, little did she know that the wedding wasn’t her happy ending. She had gone through bitterness, loneliness and unhappiness through the years caused by Brandon’s delinquency and her family’s greed for money. She ended many fake friendships and sought Ned who was the most genuine person she ever met, a sweet boy who turned out to have a deep admiration toward her. Ned became her only comfort in the world since the begining of her life’s storm but she did not expect that comfort to grow into something far more intimate and meaningful, a selfless love she had never experienced in her life.
”I won’t let you leave without you knowing what I feel for you, Ned. You have to read this one on the train too.” Catelyn then took her love letter out of her skirt pocket and hid it on his coat, hoping he would not throw it or burn it before he could read it. Then, she showered him with more kisses and embraced him tight. The scent of him was the spring and the smoke of cigars and the most expensive cars he always fixed.
“Catelyn! Ned? Are you in there? Have you seen my honey Catelyn?” Brandon continued but the volume of his voice hint that he was coming near.
”I have to go now. Keep looking after yourself and Brandon. He might be difficult at times but he’s a kind person all the same. You‘re the sun of his life”
”He may not be a very bad person but he’s not the man for me. I made a mistake. It should have been you and me at the altar.“
“You’re just saying that because both of you are having a tough time but soon both of you will overcome these trials and realize that your marriage is still worth keeping.”
“Quit telling me to be so righteous, Ned. You don’t know what it feels to be in this trap that I’m in.”
“I’m sorry for that. I can only sympathize as your friend. But we can never be more than that. Farewell, Cat” Ned briskly walks away from her and out of the garage, avoiding any eye contact. Cat did not love him for him. She loved Brandon because he could give everything that she desires while he coud not. He was just a poor bastard who was given enough pity to be provided with free shelter, food and clothes by becoming a butler. But he was an ambitious man, he does not wish to grow old a slave. He also yearns of having his own family, once he proves himself capable of giving them a good life.
Catelyn watched Ned as he walked without turning his back. Did he hate her now? She could have screamed her confession of love to him had Brandon not poked her waist and startled her.
“There you are!”
“Brandon! How many times do i have to tell you, I hate jumpscares and suprises!”
“I’m sorry honey Cat. I’ve been looking for you all day and Ned too. Have you seen him? I told him I’d drop him at the train station. You’re sure you don’t want to come with me.”
“No, I haven’t seen him and I want to stay here. My sisters are coming in an hour remember? I have to spend time with them.”
“Alright if you say so. I’ll go find Ned.” Brandon pecked a kiss on her plump cheek and jogged along the way back into the mansion. It made her feel nothing after the long fight they had the previous night. Brandon was always like that. Rude and wild on this day and then he’d be calm and happy go lucky on the next as if no trouble had ever happened. That was always her problem with him. They could not settle a conflict because Brandon would deny its existence, or if not, avoid solving them at all by passing them unto her for it to be truly dealt with.
She felt no remorse for whatever she is so eager to do, the next clandestine steps she would take. She would try to live and be happy first, than to feel sorry for herself.
I love you, Ned and I know you love me too. You’re just too afraid. But I will show you why you shouldn’t be.
Joker please tell me some of the "Misadventures of Joker and his secretary Sophie" cause I always picture Sophie working for you!!!!
Ooh I like that, doll hehe. Well, she started working for my company, Murder Inc., a few months ago and I’ll tell ya...that girl is gonna be the death of me. Prancing around the office in her little skirt, showing off those killer legs...well, I made the dress code, but still! I tell her daily not to fall in love with me and the way she rolls her eyes after I do, that just shows how hung up that girl is on me already. For her own good, I should let her go, but what would become of poor mr. J. then? After all, that girl types like the devil and never forgets my schedule.
( I actually have such a clear image in my mind of this now, a black and white 20′s movie where Joker is a detective and Sophie his assistant/secretary. It would be full of terrible one-liners and other cliches, I love it! I might have to turn this into a oneshot! Thank you anon! )
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Wohoo! Chapter 2 of “The Pianist” is now on AO3! Things are starting to get interesting! Will Blue get himself into unnecessary trouble? Maybe. Is Green going to help him out? Most likely. A lengthy hurt/comfort section incoming? Guaranteed!
Feel free to check it out! :D