#for real I LOVE the Gatsby Musical | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vivitalks · 1 year ago

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Last night I saw the Great Gatsby musical. Before I went, I reread the Great Gatsby book (for the first time since 11th grade!) to get a refresher on the source material and the original story. Having the book so fresh in my mind made seeing the musical really interesting, and now I am going to do something I never thought I'd do, which is post some lengthy meta about The Great Gatsby. If you haven't seen the musical, this post may still be interesting to read, but it does contain some mild spoilers, so I leave that up to you. If you also haven't read the book, godspeed lol.

There's a lot I could talk about here when it comes to the way the book was adapted for the stage. But there's one particular thing I want to zero in on in this post, and that's the "unreliable narrator" of it all.

In the book, Nick Carraway is our narrator. He's an unreliable narrator practically by default - the idea is that he's retelling events that occurred two years prior, from memory. But even knowing that Nick is probably not reporting all events and characters with complete accuracy, it's hard to know which parts exactly are wrong, or what might have happened in reality, because even though he's an unreliable narrator, he's still the only narrator and this is the only version of events we know. We're forced to take Nick as our surrogate and take him at his word. Until the musical.

(I wondered how the show was going to deal with the fact that the story of Great Gatsby is not only told by an unreliable narrator but also by an outside perspective - generally speaking the events of the Great Gatsby aren't happening to Nick, they're just kind of happening around him. Yet he's the voice of the story, so in that way he's central to it, and I was curious how they were going to balance that fact with the fact that Gatsby is functionally the main character.

I think they struck a really good balance in the end. Nick's beginning and ending lines, lifted verbatim from his book narration, frame him clearly as the anchor of the story - I think that's the best word for it; the audience jumps from scene to scene, many but not all of which contain Nick, but we know that Nick is always going to be where the action is, or that he will at least know about it. He may not be the main character, but he's an essential character. But I digress a little bit.)

The difference between the way the story is imparted to the audience in the book versus in the musical boils down to this: in the book, Nick "plays" every character, so all their dialogue and actions, their mannerisms and the way they're described and reported, it's all informed by the beliefs Nick holds about them. Whether he means to or not, his biases paint certain characters in certain lights, and because he is our eyes and ears to the story, we have no choice but to absorb those biases.

But in the musical, every character is literally played by a different actor. Nick can only speak for himself. Nick can only tell his own parts as they happened. He may be "telling" the story, but we're watching the story. We have the benefit of an unblemished perspective on things - we can watch the events the way they actually unfold, regardless of how Nick believes or remembers they went down.

This difference - between Nick as the narrator and Nick as merely his own voice - is crucial in how the musical develops each character, some of them fairly different from how Nick described them in the book. And there's one book-to-stage change - a fairly small one, all things considered - that, to me, illustrated this difference perfectly.

There's a line towards the end of the Gatsby book. Something Nick says in narration, after his final conversation with Tom Buchanan, talking about how Tom gave away Gatsby's name and location to George Wilson (which ultimately led to Gatsby's death). Nick writes:

"I couldn’t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, Tom and Daisy — they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made…"

When I read this line in the book, I couldn't help vehemently agreeing. Screw those rich assholes! Money does corrupt! Tom and Daisy ARE careless wealthy people! It was easy to side with Nick, not only because he was the only perspective on the situation that I had, but also because he said this in internal response to a conversation with Tom, who, I think we can all agree, is a major jackass and a deeply unsympathetic character.

But in the musical, this line is spoken aloud by Nick. And he says it to Daisy, in her house, as she's packing up to skip town after Gatsby's death. In fact, he doesn't just say it; he shouts it, visibly and audibly outraged at her audacity to lead Gatsby on, ghost him, skip his funeral, and then move away to avoid the fallout. Nick is angry and highly critical of Daisy. But because we're no longer confined to his shoes, we also get to see Daisy's reaction - not as Nick remembers it, but as Daisy actually reacts. And because of that, we're able to really see, and confirm, that "Daisy is rich and careless" is not the full story.

I have to credit Eva Noblezada for a phenomenal performance (duh). Daisy in this scene is emotional, grieving, and it's clear she has been trying to contain these feelings for the sake of her husband and her own sanity. She's remorseful, not that Gatsby is gone necessarily, but that she allowed herself to entertain the fantasy of running away with him, only for it to be torn from her. She is trying to make the best of her unavoidable reality. And then Nick tears her a new one, calling her careless, accusing her of destroying things and being too rich to care.

And as I watched that scene, I was no longer wholly on Nick's side. I understood that this situation was so much more complex than Nick's chastisement acknowledged. Sure, Daisy wasn't innocent, but she also wasn't the callous rich girl Nick made her out to be. She did love Gatsby. And she also had a whole life with Tom. She had a daughter. She was a woman in the 1920s! That's a kind of life sentence even wealth can't erase.

The way Daisy responded may not quite have landed with Nick (if we consider the kind of fun possibility that the musical is the events as they happened and the book is Nick retelling those events as he remembers them two years later, then clearly Nick's disdain for Daisy's actions overtook whatever sympathy he felt for her), but the musical gave Daisy the opportunity to appeal to us. The audience. Having this omniscient perspective of things allowed us to draw our own conclusions, and I found myself a lot more sympathetic towards Daisy when I could both see and hear how she responded to Nick's verbal castigation.

In the book, Nick is the narrator. In the musical, Nick is a narrator. But he's no longer the sole arbiter of the story. The audience got to make our own judgements on the events as we witnessed them. Every one of us was a Nick - beholden to our own biases, maybe, but at least not beholden to his.

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cheftsunoda · 5 days ago

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party 4 u —cl16 & mv1

charles leclerc x !ex lover reader

max verstappen x !wife reader

(a/n) : reread gatsby for the 80th time and got inspired. i hope you enjoy. george is the readers cousin. working on all the requests rn- love you guys.

word count : 6,365

“…i only threw this party for you”

george pov

When I first moved to Monaco, I didn’t expect to hear jazz echoing through my apartment walls at one in the morning. And yet, here I was — three nights in a row — lying awake in a painfully modern flat in Fontvieille while a saxophone moaned through the night air, accompanied by laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional cheer, like someone had just won a hand of poker or landed a deal worth millions. At first, I assumed it was just Monaco being Monaco. But then I saw the house.

It wasn’t just a house. It was a palace of light — ivory stone, clean glass, framed by palm trees and ocean views. The parties spilled out into the gardens, down to a private dock where vintage Riva boats rocked gently against the tide. Ferraris lined the circular drive. And at the edge of the property, glowing faintly in the night like a secret, was a small green light, fixed at the end of the dock. It blinked through the dark, across the water — oddly out of place. Quiet, where everything else was loud. Still, where the rest of the estate pulsed with life. I didn’t understand it then. But later, I would.

—

The night I finally received an invitation, it arrived on thick cream paper slid under my door. No name. Just a time, a date, and a location I could have found blindfolded.

—

The party was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Models lounged on lounge chairs as if posing for fashion editorials. Waiters in black tuxedos carried trays of champagne and caviar. Jazz musicians played on a raised platform, and beyond them, a DJ was already warming up for the late-night shift.

“Mr. Russell.”

I turned to see him, standing at the edge of the garden, in a perfectly cut black suit. Not a hair out of place. But up close, Charles looked… tired. Or maybe just haunted.

“Charles,” I said, shaking his hand. “I wasn’t sure the invitation was real.”

“I don’t invite people who don’t matter,” he said with a small smile. “Come. Walk with me.”

We strolled along the edge of the pool, the party fading behind us.

“I knew your name sounded familiar,” he said. “You’re related to her.”

I paused. “To who?”

“To YN,” he said, as if it were obvious. As if her name were written across the sky.

Her name hung in the air like the smoke from the cigar someone had left behind on a railing.

“She’s… well,” I began, unsure of the boundary I was crossing. “She’s married now. You probably know that.”

“To Max Verstappen,” he said, bitterness bleeding into his voice. “Yeah. I know.”

There was a long silence. He stopped walking and looked out over the cliffside. His eyes didn’t fix on the city or the stars — they settled on that same light, blinking across the bay, barely visible in the distance from this side of the estate.

“Do you see that?” he asked me, pointing. “That light.”

I nodded.

“It’s hers,” he said. “From her dock. I had mine built to mirror it. I thought… maybe if she ever looked across the water, she’d know someone was waiting.”

There was a pause. The music behind us shifted to a slower rhythm. The world seemed to exhale.

“Do you think,” Charles asked quietly, “if I threw enough parties, made enough noise, maybe… one day she’d show up?”

I didn’t answer right away. Because the answer was both cruel and kind.

“She might,” I finally said. “She’s still in Monaco.”

He turned to me then, and for the first time, I saw it. Not the money, not the cars or the charm — but the ache beneath it all.

“Tell her I said hello,” he murmured. “No — wait. Don’t.”

He smiled again, that fractured, wistful kind of smile that people wear when they’re already halfway through a memory.

—

Later that night, I messaged YN.

Just got in. Staying in Fontvieille… you won’t believe who my neighbor is. Drinks later?

And even as I hit send, I glanced out my own window —at the soft glow of that green light blinking faintly across the dark sea. And I knew. This wasn’t going to be about racing. It was about her.

And the man who never stopped watching the water for her return.

—

your pov

I always hear the sea before I see it. It’s the first thing that greets me each morning, soft waves brushing against the cliffs beneath the villa, rising through the open balcony doors in a rhythm that’s become as familiar to me as the beat of Max’s absence. He was gone before I woke up. Again. No note, no goodbye, just the quiet echo of the front door closing and the faint smell of motor oil lingering in the sheets. It’s always like this during race week. There’s no room for softness in his world, only speed and steel. I step outside into the morning light, drawing my robe tighter around my waist as the breeze dances across my skin. Monaco stretches out beneath me — white yachts drifting into the bay, their wakes slicing through the water like ribbons being unwound. The hills behind them are already glowing gold with sun, and the city is beginning to bloom again after its slow, silent winter. And then, I see it.

The light.

Faint. Blinking. Distant.

It’s perched at the end of a dock across the bay much too far to be useful, too strange to be a coincidence. I’ve noticed it before, always late at night when I can’t sleep, when I pace the villa barefoot, aching for something I can’t quite name. I never knew what the light meant. But today, it feels like it’s looking right back at me. My phone buzzes on the terrace table. I already know who it is.

George.

Just got in. Staying in Fontvieille — you won’t believe who my neighbor is. Drinks later?

I smile despite myself. George has always been a soft place to land, all English politeness and thoughtful silences. The opposite of Max’s sharpness, his chaos. I haven’t seen George since Christmas, when we all played pretend around the dinner table and ignored the cracks in my perfect life.

Of course. I could use a distraction.

I hit send. The light blinks once more, steady this time. Like a heartbeat.

—

The lounge at Hôtel de Paris is half-empty when I arrive. George stands when he sees me, and for a moment I forget the years between us.

“Still the most glamorous woman in Monaco,” he says, kissing my cheek.

“And still the smoothest liar in Europe,” I tease.

We fall into our old rhythm — champagne, banter, small talk wrapped in satin. But I can feel something building. George is holding something just behind his smile. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Do you remember Charles Leclerc?”

The world stills. My breath catches. God. Of course I do. I remember how his voice dipped when he said my name. How his fingers hovered over mine like they didn’t dare touch. How he looked at me — like I was every sunrise he thought he’d never see again.

I swallow. “Yes. I remember.”

“He’s my neighbor,” George says slowly. “Lives just across from me in Fontvieille. You should see the house — it’s… absurd. Like something out of a dream. And the parties, every night. Like he’s trying to distract himself from something.”

I stare down at my glass.

“He asked about you,” George adds. “Didn’t know I was your cousin at first. Once he found out… well. I didn’t need to ask anything else.”

My heart knocks against my ribs.

“He built a dock, you know,” George continues. “Had it designed to mirror yours. And at the end of it — there’s a light.”

I look up. I don’t try to hide the way my expression shifts. He sees it.

“I’ve seen it,” I whisper.

“Every night,” George says. “He stands there, staring across the water. At you, I think. Or maybe just the idea of you.”

I don’t say anything. Because what could I possibly say?

—

That night, after Max has returned and collapsed into bed, I stand at the window. The city glows below, Monaco sparkling like something on the verge of unraveling. I press my hand to the glass, eyes drawn once again to that single, blinking green light across the bay. I can’t tell if it’s calling me back…or daring me to come closer. But I know one thing for certain…The past has teeth. And it’s not finished with me yet.

—

george pov

The music was louder near the terrace — bold jazz brushing shoulders with the hum of luxury and secrets. But inside, the sound softened, swallowed by velvet curtains and expensive silence. I found Kika alone in the library. She looked every bit the part — sleek gown, hair pinned like she’d just stepped out of a runway show, drink in hand, lounging on the edge of a leather armchair like the room belonged to her. It probably did, in some way. She always seemed to belong. She raised a brow when she saw me.

“I was wondering when you’d come looking for me.”

I smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “You always seem to know where to disappear to.”

She tilted her glass toward me. “And you always seem to want answers you’re not ready to hear.”

I stepped inside. “You know something.”

Her smile faltered for half a second — just long enough. I crossed the room and sat opposite her, letting the silence settle like dust between us.

“It’s about Charles,” I said.

She didn’t answer right away.

“It’s about her,” she corrected softly. “And him.”

Kika swirled the drink in her hand, the ice clinking like a clock ticking down. “He was hers before Max ever entered the picture. Not officially, not in the kind of way people write about — but in all the ways that matter.”

“And she left?” I asked.

“She had to,” Kika said. “You know how it works. Her family. The image. The politics. Charles was everything she wanted and nothing she was allowed to choose.”

I stared at her. “And now she’s married to Max.”

Kika laughed — a little bitter, a little bored. “If you think marriage erases love, George, you’ve been spending too much time in the paddock and not enough time watching people lie to themselves.”

I looked down at my drink.

“She doesn’t talk about him,” I said. “But I can feel it. Like she’s holding her breath around the very idea of him.”

“She doesn’t talk about him,” Kika echoed, “because she’s afraid that if she does, the dam will break.”

She leaned forward now, her tone shifting, eyes sharper.

“Do you know why Charles throws these parties?”

I didn’t answer. Kika gave me a look that felt almost sad. “It’s for her. It’s always been for her. Every guest, every bottle of champagne, every stupid green light glowing at the edge of that dock — it’s all a signal flare. Just in case she’s watching.”

I leaned back, the weight of her words settling heavy in my chest.

“Do you think she’ll come back to him?”

Kika was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled, soft and complicated.

“I think… if she lets herself feel anything at all, she never really left.”

—

youy pov

It started with a message from George.

Come by tomorrow around four? Nothing fancy. Tea and old gossip?

I said yes, not because I had the time — Max had meetings, sponsors, a dinner I was expected to sit through — but because George never asked for much. And I liked being with someone who didn’t make me feel like I had to earn my presence. Besides, the rain was coming down in slow, silver sheets that afternoon, soaking the cliffs and muting the sound of the sea. Monaco in the rain felt like something suspended in time — a painting left out in a storm. I didn’t dress up. A soft sweater, silk trousers, hair left loose. I told myself it didn’t matter. That was my first mistake. George’s apartment overlooked the harbor. It was clean, almost surgical, like he didn’t really live there. He opened the door with a nervous smile that didn’t suit him.

“You’re early,” he said, glancing at his watch.

I raised a brow. “You said four.”

“I know,” he said. “Just — come in. Sit. You want tea?”

“I want to know what you’re hiding,” I replied, stepping inside.

He laughed, too quickly. “What makes you think I’m hiding anything?”

“You’re British. You only make tea under emotional duress.”

Before he could answer, the doorbell rang. And that was when I knew. I turned slowly, my heart already racing — faster than it had in years, faster than it ever did with Max. George moved to open the door, and for a split second, I thought I should run. But then the door opened. And there he was.

Charles.

He hadn’t changed. Or maybe he had, but in all the right ways. His hair was slightly longer, curling at the edges. The lines around his eyes were deeper, not from age, but from ache. He wore a cream sweater and tailored trousers, simple and quiet, like he didn’t need the world to notice him — he only needed one person to. And for a moment, neither of us spoke. Rain dripped from his jacket, pooling onto George’s polished floor. He held a single white flower in his hand — delicate, already starting to wilt.

“Hi,” he said.

My mouth went dry. “Hi.”

I didn’t move. Neither did he.

George cleared his throat. “I, uh… I’ll just go check on the tea.”

Coward.

We stood in that tiny sitting room with too much space between us.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I said, though it wasn’t entirely true.

“I hoped you would be,” Charles said, voice quiet, steady. “But I didn’t want to force anything.”

I looked down at the flower in his hand.

He offered it to me. “It’s from my garden. Not the best choice, maybe.”

I took it.

“It’s perfect,” I said.

He looked at me, really looked at me, and it was like the air between us shifted. Everything unsaid sat heavy in the space we didn’t dare cross.

“I’ve thought about this moment,” he said. “For years.”

I swallowed. “And?”

“And now that you’re here… I don’t know what to say.”

I smiled, fragile and real. “You could say hello again.”

So he did.

—

Later, George would return with a tray of tea no one touched. The rain would ease off. The sky would open into a strange sort of stillness. And Charles would sit across from me like someone who had forgotten how to breathe, afraid that if he blinked, I might disappear. And I—I would hold the flower in my lap, petals already starting to bruise, and feel something begin to bloom again inside me. Something I had buried beneath vows, race weekends, and careful smiles.

Something with his name. The rain hadn’t stopped. It had only softened — now a light drizzle clinging to the marble streets of Fontvieille, making everything look like it belonged in a memory. George had conveniently vanished somewhere inside the apartment, muttering something about emails and phone calls that didn’t exist. I knew what he was doing. I was grateful for it. Charles stood by the window, hands in his pockets, watching the mist slide down the glass.

“I don’t like tea,” he said, without turning.

I laughed. “You drank it.”

“I drank it because you were there.”

That silenced me. Not because it surprised me but because it didn’t. I looked at him, really looked at him. The way his shoulders sat differently now, heavier somehow. The way his voice had dropped half an octave, like life had carved itself into him.

“I’ve missed the rain here,” I said, quietly.

He turned toward me. “Would you like to walk in it?”

I hesitated. But then I nodded. We didn’t speak for the first few minutes. The streets were nearly empty. The rich don’t walk in the rain — they send their assistants or wait it out behind tinted glass. But there we were, side by side, moving slowly past shuttered cafes and blooming window boxes, both pretending not to notice how close our hands were.

“You used to say you hated the rain,” Charles said finally.

“I used to say a lot of things.”

He smiled without looking at me. “That summer, you always carried a red umbrella. Even when it wasn’t raining.”

“It matched my lipstick.”

“It made you look like you belonged in a movie.”

We kept walking. At one point, I slipped — just a little, my foot catching on the wet stone — and he reached out, instinctively, his hand catching my elbow. His touch was warm even through the sleeve of my sweater.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

I didn’t pull away.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t recognize you,” he said, after a long silence. “That time had… changed you into someone else.”

“And?” I asked.

“And then you laughed.”

He stopped walking. I did too.

“You laughed,” he said again, “and I knew you were still mine. Somewhere.”

The air around us felt still, even as the rain clung to our clothes. My heart was loud in my chest. His eyes held mine like a question he’d been too afraid to ask for years. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t. So instead, I reached for his hand. And this time, I didn’t let go. I didn’t know we were walking there until we arrived. One moment we were side by side in the rain, hands barely touching — and the next, we were standing at the tall black gates of a cliffside villa that seemed to rise right out of the sea. Hidden behind cypress trees and ivy-covered walls, it looked more like a dream than a home. As if someone had taken all the fantasies of a boy in love and pressed them into stone and glass. Charles didn’t say a word as the gates opened. I stopped walking.

“You live here?” I asked, breathless.

He glanced over at me, almost shy. “It’s not far from yours. I thought maybe, someday… you’d notice.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. We stepped inside. The foyer was quiet, grand in that effortless European way. White walls. Warm oak. A chandelier that looked like dripping light. Music floated in from somewhere — soft piano. I followed him past rooms lined with art I recognized from magazines, sculptures I’d once seen in Florence, and windows that opened straight onto the ocean, the sea stretching out in every direction like something eternal.

“I bought this place two years ago,” he said. “Did most of the designing myself. I wanted it to feel like… something alive.”

“Alive,” I echoed.

He nodded. “Like it was waiting.”

For a while, neither of us spoke. He led me through the living room — two stories high, all soft neutrals and open space — and up a staircase that curled like a seashell. Every room looked untouched. As if someone had spent years preparing them for a moment that never came.

“This is my favorite,” he said, pushing open a pair of double doors at the end of the hall.

It was a library — soft lighting, shelves that reached the ceiling, a single armchair facing a massive window that looked directly across the bay. And there it was again. The green light. Blinking. Waiting. Watching. My throat tightened.

“I put it there for you,” he said, quietly.

I turned to him.

“You couldn’t have known I’d ever come.”

“I didn’t,” he said. “But hope doesn’t need permission.”

The rain had stopped now, but everything still glistened with it — the rooftops, the glass, the sea itself. The entire city looked like it had been held underwater and brought up gasping. I stepped closer to the window.

“You’ve made a world here,” I said. “And you filled it with ghosts.”

He didn’t respond. Just watched me.

“I don’t know if I belong in it,” I whispered.

“You do,” he said. “You always did.”

In the quiet, I could feel the ache between us — years stretched taut like thread. The kind that doesn’t snap. The kind that holds. Outside, the green light blinked again. And for the first time, I let myself wonder what it would feel like to reach for it. Not as a memory. But as a future. After the library, I thought we’d seen the most intimate part of the house.

But then Charles said, “There’s something else.”

He led me down a narrow hallway that curved behind the main stairwell — away from the grand rooms and the sea views. The air was cooler there, and quieter. More honest. The door he opened was simple. Pale oak. No dramatic flourish. Inside, it was nothing like the rest of the house. It wasn’t a gallery. It wasn’t a showroom. It was a museum of memory. Of me. A wide, sunlit space, lined with glass cases and shelves. There were old photographs, carefully framed, some I remembered, some I didn’t even know existed. Candids from that one summer in Saint-Tropez. A photo booth strip from a race after party. A polaroid from a yacht where I’m half-smiling at someone off frame. Him, probably. And then there were the things. A pair of vintage sunglasses I’d once admired in a shop window, he had found them again, in Milan. A perfume bottle in the exact scent I used to wear. A red scarf I lost years ago in the back of a cab in Paris. Somehow, he had found a copy of the book I lent him that summer, still dog eared on the chapter I said made me cry. I stood still. Silent. On a low shelf, I saw a gold ring with a delicate emerald set into it.

My breath caught. “This was—”

“You left it at my apartment. The night before you left for London.”

I touched the glass, fingertips hovering over the memory.

“This isn’t healthy,” I said, but my voice cracked halfway through.

“I know,” Charles replied, quietly.

I turned to him. His expression was unreadable but calm, composed. But his hands were shaking.

“I wasn’t collecting things,” he said. “I was collecting time. Moments. Proof that you were real. That we were real.”

“You don’t need proof,” I said. “I was there.”

“Not anymore.”

That silenced me.

“I thought if I built it all — if I gathered every thread — maybe, someday, you’d walk in and recognize yourself in it. And maybe… we’d find our way back.”

I looked around the room again. Every object shimmered with what ifs. With love held too long in clenched hands.

“Charles,” I whispered. “This is…”

But I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Beautiful? Heartbreaking? Obsessive? Pure? Maybe it was all of those things. He crossed the room then, slowly, until he was just in front of me. He didn’t touch me. Just stood there.

“I didn’t ask you to feel the same,” he said. “I only ever wanted you to know.”

And in that moment, I did. All of it. The waiting. The building. The aching. The hope was shining like the green light across the bay. The air between us felt too full to breathe. I stood there, surrounded by pieces of my past, feeling more exposed than I ever had. Charles’s eyes were locked on mine, searching, waiting, trembling with something I could barely name. Without a word, he stepped closer, he was slow, deliberate. The space between us shrinking until the heat of him was impossible to ignore. I wanted to pull away. I wanted to remind myself of everything I had built with Max, with my life. But I didn’t. His hand reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear— gentle, careful, like he was afraid to break me. And then his lips were on mine. Soft at first, questioning — like two people relearning how to touch after years apart. But underneath that softness was a storm, a desperation, a longing too fierce to contain. I felt the weight of the years between us fall away. The promises made and broken. The dreams that never died. When we finally pulled apart, my breath was shallow, my heart pounding in my ears. Charles rested his forehead against mine.

“I’ve waited for you,” he whispered.

“Me too,” I said, barely above a breath.

The world outside the window — that damn blinking light, the rain-wet city — all faded. There was only this moment. Only us.

—

For weeks, it had felt like a secret suspended in time… stolen moments between Charles and me, wrapped in rain-soaked evenings and whispered conversations. Our affair unfolded like something fragile and forbidden, a delicate thread we both tried not to snap. We met in quiet corners of the city — a hidden café near the marina, a secluded terrace overlooking the Formula 1 paddock, the back room of a gallery where no one looked twice. Charles was different then — more open, more himself. And I could almost forget the world I’d left behind. Almost. Because the truth was always waiting. Max.

The first time I saw him after everything began was like a punch to the chest. We were at a gala, the kind where every flash of the cameras felt like a spotlight on my shame. Max was there, tall, confident, the man who had built our life like a fortress. His eyes swept the room, then locked onto mine. There was something in his gaze that I couldn’t quite read…suspicion? Hurt? Or maybe just the weight of knowing. I could feel Charles tense beside me. Later, as the night grew long and the crowd thinned, Max pulled me aside.

“We need to talk,” he said, voice low but steady.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t beg. He just looked at me, eyes searching, the fight draining out of him. He reached out for my hand, the first time he has touched me in weeks.

“Do you want this?” he asked quietly. “Us.”

I couldn’t answer. Because I didn’t know. Because the heart is a dangerous thing when it’s pulled in two directions.

Back at Charles’s place, the silence between us was heavier than the sea air.

“I saw him tonight,” I admitted.

Charles’s jaw clenched.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said. “But I don’t want to be your secret.”

—

The night had already stretched thin, taut with everything unsaid. Max wasn’t one to lose control easily, but tonight something broke inside him. We were at our penthouse overlooking the harbor — a fortress of glass and steel, cold and imposing. Charles stood by the window, his back to us, staring out at the lights shimmering on the water. Max’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade.

“So this is him,” Max said, not looking at Charles but speaking to me. “The man you’ve been sneaking around with.”

I flinched. Charles turned slowly, calm but guarded.

“I’m not here to fight,” Charles said. “But I’m not leaving either.”

Max laughed, bitter and sharp. “Of course you’re not. You think you can just walk in and take what I built? What we built?”

Charles met his gaze evenly. “I’m not here to take anything. I’m here because she matters.”

Max’s eyes darkened. “She’s your fantasy, Charles. A ghost you’re chasing across the bay.”

Charles stepped forward, the quiet storm inside him finally breaking. “She’s real. More real than you ever cared to see.”

Max’s laugh was hollow now. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying. And I’m done waiting in the shadows.”

Max moved closer, dangerous. “You think I’m just going to step aside? Because you showed up with a fancy house and a light?”

Charles’s jaw tightened. “It’s not the house. It’s not the light. It’s her.”

Max’s eyes flicked to me. “Is it worth it, YN? All this pain? This secret? The lies?”

I swallowed hard, caught between the two men who had shaped my world. Charles’s voice softened, almost pleading. “It’s worth everything.”

Max shook his head, a mixture of anger and something like despair. “This ends tonight.”

—

“Everyone’s dazzled by the mansion, the charm, the green light. But you forget — you built all that on lies.”

Charles’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Max’s voice dropped, low and venomous.

“I know about your offshore accounts. The unregistered sponsors. The shell companies hiding money that should’ve gone to the team — and probably a lot of other places you’d rather I didn’t mention.”

Charles finally looked at Max, his eyes dark but steady. “And what if I did?” Charles asked. “Is that supposed to scare you?”

Max laughed, harsh and bitter. “It’s not just me. It’s the entire paddock, the press. Everyone waiting for you to slip. And now you’ve dragged her into your mess.”

I felt my stomach twist. Charles ran a hand through his hair. “I did what I had to. For us.”

“For us?” Max echoed. “You don’t get to use her as a shield.”

Charles stepped forward. “I’m not hiding anymore.”

Max’s glare was ice. “Then maybe it’s time you face the consequences.”

—

It was supposed to be just another race. The sun baked the streets of Baku, the asphalt shimmering with heat, the grandstands roaring with anticipation. I stood above it all in a VIP suite, flanked by cameras and champagne and people who smiled with perfectly practiced ease. But none of them mattered. Only two people on that track could ruin me. Max. And Charles.

Rumors had been circling for weeks — about Charles’s money, about the investigations, about shady ties to foreign sponsors. Whispers of suspension. Disqualification. But nothing had stuck. Until today.

—

I didn’t know what Max had done. Not exactly. But I knew he had done something. He’d been too quiet before the race. Too calm. The kind of calm that makes your skin crawl. I asked him if he was okay. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “You’ll see.”

—

On lap 38, it happened. Charles was closing in on second, tires screaming around the hairpin, when Max’s teammate, a rookie on a two-year contract, desperate to prove himself — suddenly cut across the racing line. A move that made no sense. A move that could only be explained by orders. Charles reacted instinctively — too fast, too much. Carbon fiber exploded across the track. The other car spun, slammed into the barrier. Smoke. Debris. Yellow flags. But it was the radio crackle in the chaos that broke me. Charles’s voice.

“I didn’t see him. I swear. I didn’t—”

And then static.

—

The fallout was immediate. Headlines exploded across the world.

LECLERC UNDER FIRE FOR RECKLESS CRASH.

INSIDER SOURCES CLAIM ONGOING INVESTIGATION INTO ILLEGAL FUNDING.

MAX VERSTAPPEN: “IT WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN.”

No one said Max planned it. They didn’t have to. He knew exactly what he was doing.

—

I saw Charles once, days after the crash, holed up in his estate, the gates locked, the windows dark. He didn’t look like himself. Not the golden boy with the green light in his eyes. Just a man unraveling.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” he told me, voice barely a whisper. “I only ever wanted a future.”

I wanted to believe him. God, I did believe him. But the world didn’t. And neither did the sport.

—

The days after the crash blurred into one another — soft, grey, and quiet. The kind of silence that feels like mourning, though no one had died. Not technically. But something had. Maybe it was the illusion. The version of me Charles had built his entire world around. I visited him once more. The house felt different. Not grand, not magical — just empty. A shell. He met me at the edge of the garden, by the sea, the green light across the bay flickering faintly through the dusk.

“You haven’t been answering,” he said.

“I know.”

He studied my face like he was trying to memorize it again, afraid I’d disappear.

“You said once that you waited for me,” I said quietly. “But I think what you were waiting for wasn’t… me.”

He blinked, thrown.

“You waited for an idea. A version of me who never changed. Who was frozen in that summer we first met.”

He stepped toward me, panicked. “That’s not true.”

But it was. Because the real me — the me who had grown tired, who had doubts, who sometimes missed Max even in the middle of Charles’s arms — that version made him flinch.

“I needed you to be perfect,” Charles whispered, as if realizing it himself. “Because if you weren’t, then all of this… was for nothing.”

I nodded.

“I know.”

The breeze picked up off the water, cold and salty.

“I thought I could love you the way you wanted,” I said. “But you don’t see me. Not really. You see what you needed me to be.”

His eyes dropped to the ground.

“And Max?” he asked, the word bitter in his mouth.

“I don’t know if I love him,” I admitted. “But he knows who I am. And somehow, he still stays.”

Charles didn’t speak. I reached out, touched his hand once more, gently.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Then I walked away.

—

The movers came early in the morning. Low voices. Heavy boots. Boxes filled with a life carefully built, now undone. The house echoed with emptiness — a hollow kind of silence that clung to the walls. The garden was overgrown. The green light across the bay was gone, drowned in the thick fog rolling in from the sea. Charles stood in the driveway, watching the team pack away what was left of the dream. And then Max arrived. No warning. No announcement. Just the quiet hum of an engine and the sharp click of expensive shoes on stone. Charles didn’t flinch when Max stepped out of the car. He didn’t even look surprised.

“I thought you might come,” Charles said.

“I wanted to see it for myself,” Max replied, his voice flat. “What’s left of it, anyway.”

I stood just inside the threshold of the house, wrapped in a sweater, hands clenched at my sides. Watching. Not speaking. Max’s eyes flicked toward me. Just for a moment. Then he turned back to Charles.

“You really thought she was going to leave it all behind for you?”

Charles didn’t answer. “You’re not in some storybook, Leclerc. You’re not the hero.”

Charles’s voice, when it came, was soft. “No,” he said. “I’m the fool who believed in one.”

Max smiled without warmth. “You had your moment. You lost.”

Charles stepped forward once, just one pace, his eyes dark and unreadable. “She loved me,” he said, quiet and certain.

“And now she’s coming home with me,” Max replied. “Because no matter how many lights you chase, no matter how much money you throw at the past—some things don’t come back.”

I closed my eyes. And stayed still. Charles looked at me then — really looked at me — like he was still hoping I’d ay something. Anything. But I didn’t. Because I couldn’t. Because maybe Max was right. Or maybe I was just too tired to keep chasing something that had already drowned.

Max turned, gestured for me to follow. He wrapped an arm tightly around my waist, quietly glaring back at Charles. I hesitated. Just long enough for my heart to whisper his name. And then kept walking away. Not with joy. Not with triumph. But with resignation.

Behind us, Charles stayed where he was — unmoving, alone — as the movers took the last box away. The gates of the house swung shut. And the dream ended, quietly, like it always would.

—

georges final epilogue

I stood by the harbor the day Charles Leclerc left Monaco. There was no press. No goodbye. No scandal headline screaming his name. Just a quiet departure. The kind that didn’t belong to someone who once lit up the coast with champagne and chandeliers. Who threw parties for ghosts and watched the shoreline for a girl who was never really his. He was gone before the sun broke through the clouds. The city barely noticed. But I did. I always noticed. I remember the first time I met him — all charm and mystery, like he stepped out of a dream and into real life. I remember how he looked at her — the way his entire world bent in her direction. And I remember how it all fell apart. Not in an explosion. In silence. In slow, inevitable erosion. She never spoke to me about him again. Not after that day. She returned to Max, to the life she had built. She smiled at the right events, wore the right dresses, laughed just enough to make everyone believe the story had ended well. But I saw it — that flicker in her eyes, just now and then, when someone mentioned green, or rain, or the sound of a Ferrari engine in the distance. I think she loved him once. But love wasn’t enough.

And Charles? He faded from the headlines. The house was sold. The lights turned off. He became just another myth this city buried beneath champagne and secrets. But I remember. Because someone should. Sometimes I walk by the old estate. The one by the water, where the grass has grown too long and the wind whistles through the broken glass. I think of him standing at the dock, eyes fixed on a green light that never really existed — a symbol of a past that could never be reclaimed. We’re all chasing something, I suppose. Some dream. Some version of love. Some perfect beginning we tell ourselves we can return to. But we can’t. So we move forward. Bearing the weight of the past. And pretending it never mattered.

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gotta-winwin · 1 month ago

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b(a)d chemistry | j.ww

⭐ starring: jeon wonwoo 💌 genre: fluff/crack | wc: 2.2k 💬 preview: he had brown eyes that looked up at you from behind black-rimmed frames and a voice that scolded your intelligence so infuriatingly right.

cw/tw: chem major! wonwoo x lit studies! reader, sassy man apocalypse, crack, a lot of swearing

🪽fic rating: pg 13 ☁️ masterlist & a/n: i’m writing this in the library with my brightness all the way down. no shame. (maybe just a little shame). the great gatsby x wonwoo agenda is going to haunt every narrative i ever write :)) thank you to @gyubakeries for betaing!

now playing: she by harry styles, the way i loved you by taylor swift, party 4 u by charli xcx

this is an addition to my 500 followers event: click here to read the masterlist!

If heaven was for real, you thought it must look something like him.

He had brown eyes that looked up at you from behind black-rimmed frames and a voice that scolded your intelligence so infuriatingly right. His fingers emphasized each page flip and his lips pursed against the side of his pencil, eyebrows furrowed with intense concentration and deep seeded fury.

Jeon Wonwoo was a beast in the classroom and it made your wandering mind wonder how that passion might translate in bed.

“That’s wrong.” He always said it so simply, as if your mistakes were simply unsurprising and a fact. “Change it.”

You roll your eyes. There was a reason Wonwoo was still single despite being one of the most revered guys in your university, and it was because no one had yet to stand their ground when facing his stupid superiority complex and lack of tact.

“This is dumb.” You poke at your test papers with the butt of your pen, slumping further down your seat. “Why do I have to take chemistry anyways? We’re not even in the same department.”

He raised an eyebrow at your complaints. “You’re the one who signed up for the week-long major switch experiment.”

Right. You let out a louder groan than the last. “Boooo..”

Wonwoo laughs, and your lips quirk into a suppressed smile.

“You won’t be laughing when it’s your turn. You swapped with me, remember? I’m a lit major.”

Wonwoo pales. “I forgot about that.”

There’s a shared smile that passes between the two of you, as if you were trading some silent understanding of a joke. He’s awfully pretty when he smiles.

Wonwoo slaps your test paper and it jolts you out of your bubble of bliss. “Back to work, rookie. Your values are still wrong.”

Never mind. He’s definitely heinous and ugly on the inside.

You watch his glasses slip down his nose. He looks so awfully pretty asleep.

Shaking your head, you reach over to remove it, placing it on the table in front of him and returning back to your workbooks.

Five hours later and chemistry was still gibberish to your eyes.

“Hey, Y/N.” Seokmin stops at your table on his way out of the library, arms ladened with his own workbooks. You vaguely remember that he had switched majors with Seungkwan, trading in his music major for environmental science. It had to be some sort of sheer luck that the two had been paired together, for you knew both boys would succeed at either major anyway.

“Hi Seok.” You smile lazily his way, glancing at the sleeping Wonwoo next to you. He had not stirred.

“How’s the swap going?”

You snort. “I hate chem. And Wonwoo’s berating is not helping.”

“He’s just trying to help in a way he knows how to.” Seokmin defends the classroom beast and you realize you’ve forgotten that they’re actually pretty good friends.

“I don’t know how you put up with him, Seok. I’ve only been alone with him for less than a day and I want to rip my eyeballs out. Or his eyeballs, I don’t know yet.”

Seokmin laughs. “You’re funny.” He starts walking towards the exit, looking back at you with a smile on his face. “Good luck! Maybe finally having someone smarter than you will do you some good.”

You’re offended, but you know he jests. “He is not smarter than me!” You protest. “I’m smarter than him, the fuck?”

You fail to notice Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowing in his sleep, his lips parting to counter your remark before closing again.

“Good.” You give your sleeping project partner one last glance before returning to the stupid chemistry question. “Still sleeping. I hope it stays that way.” You mumble the last part mostly to yourself, your eyes already glazing over from the word problem. “Why is Sally mixing so many fucking liquids, just drink water or something.”

Wonwoo snorts in laughter but passes it off as a snore. He peeks an eye open. You look awfully pretty when you’re frustrated.

Wonwoo swears he’s not looking at you in an obsessive way. He insists it’s a perfectly normal way to be looking at someone, ignoring how it definitely feels more like a stare than a look.

You’re hunched over the latest book in your repertoire, pen scratching whatever thoughts down in the margins.

“Quit it.” Mingyu bumps his shoulder to catch his attention. “You’ll scare her. Hell, you’re scaring me.”

“Shut up.” He ignores his friend and continues to look. You’re too engrossed in the novel to register his stares anyways. “I bet it’s some stupid book about yearning for love and way too much making out.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “It’s about some guy who throws parties every night hoping one girl might show up.” For a sports major, Mingyu knows a surprising amount about books.

Wonwoo frowns at the idea. “That’s dumb.”

“Yeah.”

He forces himself to look away, staring down at the sandwich in his hands instead.

“You’re kind of doing that though. Don’t pretend like you didn’t beg Professor Choi to partner the two of you together so you could speak to her. You hate literature.” Mingyu smirks. “You know I’m fucking right.”

“Shut the fuck up, bro.”

You see Wonwoo smile a real smile for the first time when you show him your chemistry test grades.

“Holy shit.” He grabs the papers from you, pushing his glasses up as if it could change the score he was seeing.

“It’s good, right?”

He smiles, and it’s one that’s full of teeth and so unguarded. “Yes. You did so well. I can’t believe-” He shuts up the moment he realizes he’s rambling.

You point a finger at his face, the brightest expression on your face. “You were happy for me. You’re happy for me. You fucking smiled.” It’s a bigger win for you than the actual test score.

He grabs the hand still pointing in his face and gently pushes it down. “Shut up.”

“Admit it.” You pester on. “Admit you’re happy for me.”

“I’m happy you didn’t fail miserably.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jeon.” You laugh when he grimaces. “You–”

His heart lurches because– just for a second– he thinks you’re about to say you’re in love with me. And you’d be right.

“--smiled.”

His shoulders sink along with his heart.

He looked so awfully pretty happy. And you looked so awfully pretty when you were annoying him.

You look at Wonwoo and realize you can see a future with him. He no longer enrages you with just one glance. You see him and he looks awfully boyfriend shaped.

You mime a gag at the thought and he turns to look at you.

“You good?”

You nod. “Yeah, fine.”

He’s mindlessly playing with the pages of the book you had given him. “Do I really have to read this? You know I’m going to ace the exam either way.”

You frown. “You don’t read for the exam, you read to read.”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve said all day.”

You know he means it as a joke, yet the words sting anyways. “That’s mean.” You tell him.

“It’s true though. It’s just words.” He pushes the book back to you. “I’m not wasting time on this.”

The future you saw shatters right before your eyes. You shove the book back towards him. “Why do I even bother?”

He watches as you leave, your hair bouncing in the afternoon wind. He frowns. He’s always been the smartest in the room. He’s always known exactly what to say. Yet one look at you and he’s rendered as dumb as any other guy.

He hears you talking about him to his friends the next day. Mingyu has his hand around your waist, and although he knows how close you are with his roommates, it still rubs him the wrong way.

He figures it hurts him more than usual because he knows he has no right to be feeling any sort of ownership towards you.

“He’s an idiot.” He hears you complain to Seokmin and Mingyu.

They nod solemnly. “It’s been known.”

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. He hated when you insulted his intelligence.

“And we all know I could’ve aced that chem test without him.”

Now you were just lying. Wonwoo frowned at your words.

“You know he’s hopelessly in love with you.” Mingyu tells you, and Wonwoo lets out a low groan.

You roll your eyes. “Right. And Professor Choi’s in love with Professor Yoon.”

“Yeah, that actually happened.”

Wonwoo ignores your shocked expression, cranking up the music blasting in his ears. It drowns out whatever Seokmin was enthusiastically telling you, his arms waving passionately in the air.

Wonwoo knows you’d never love him back. He’s not that much of an idiot.

His resolve breaks on the third day. Wonwoo’s confronted with the fact that he misses your usual bickering and the way you’d glare at him from behind your computer screen. He misses the sound of your nails clacking on the keyboard, how they’d grow more furious the more frustrated you became with him. He missed riling you up. But most of all, he missed those rare moments where you’d put your rivalry aside and smile at him in a way that made him believe– for a split second– that you could love him.

Wonwoo finishes the book you gave him in two days. It would have taken him half the time, if it hadn’t been for the time he had taken to read your handwriting in the margins.

It was the book Mingyu had been talking about, the book he had watched you read in the school courtyard that one time.

“Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away.”

He liked that line, and the things you had written in the margins on the side. There is beauty in conversing in a language only two can understand. To the world it looks like fighting, to them it feels like finally finding a worthy opponent.

Wonwoo can’t help but feel as if the whole novel was one long love letter from you, to him.

“Y/N!”

You turn to face him. Your body reacts to his voice despite your brain telling you not to. “What do you want, Jeon?”

He pushes a battered copy of The Great Gatsby into your hands. Your copy.

“I finished.” He’s a little breathless as he speaks, looking at you for a reply.

“I thought–”

He doesn’t let you finish. “I’m sorry. I was crass. And rude. And I’ve always been a little pretentious.”

“Yes, you have.” You turn to walk past him, but he steps in front of you, blocking your path.

“Let me finish.” His brown eyes plead with yours, and you relent.

“I’ve always been those things, you know that. You’ve called me out for it since preschool. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re the only person I can spar with word for word. You throw my shit back harder and witter and the only time I truly feel alive is when I’m with you. Yes, I’m mean. I’m rude. I make fun of you all too much. But I-”

He pauses. He can’t say it. That he loves you.

“Read the book.” He says instead. “Please.”

He looks awfully pretty begging.

things i wish i said

god, i have a lot of that

got a bad habit of shoving my foot in my mouth

when i’m around you

like my mind’s spinning far too fast

i swear i’m not usually like that

i wish i had told you how much i cared

in such a way that made me fear

wish i had taken a moment to explain to you my mind

that i really do love you despite what it might look like

– that’s what i tell everyone

wish whatever i had to say you already knew

if you could hear exactly how i meant it

see exactly how i see you

feel the jumble of whatever i feel

when i said that i hated you

there were other things i left out

like the fact that i hate you because there was nothing else i could’ve felt

that would’ve made us make more sense

that i really didn’t hate you, and my words were too harsh

i hated you cause i love you a little bit too hard

i hated the ten foot drop i feel when i see you

not you

i could never really actually hate you

Wonwoo sees you smile a real smile for the first time when you meet him for coffee after his literature exam.

You have an irritatingly smug expression on your face as you greet him. “I heard you failed your exam.”

“Shut up.” He had failed his exam. “Words are not my forte, alright?”

“Look at that, Jeon Wonwoo, finally admitting he’s not good at something.”

He laughs, and the sound echoes somewhere deep in your chest. “I guess I’m learning.”

“Nice juxtaposition in the poem, by the way.” You smile at him from behind your coffee mug.

He frowns. “A what now?”

You laugh and it feels like the fucking sun shining on his face.

“I love you too, Jeon. Even if it was a shitty ass poem.”

He smiles. It’s unguarded and full of teeth.

#svthub #gottawinwin500event #seventeen imagines #svt #svt imagines #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen event #seventeen fluff #svt wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen wonwoo

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puckleberryfinnie · 11 months ago

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ok so ik my req might seem a bit weird butttttt.. i have been dyingggg for ray. like his body tea, i loveeee his lil accent and smile so i just wanna see like host!reader get nervous when he gets injured, him giving reader his jersey, and a lil post-game smooch 🫶🏾🫶🏾.

girll you don't understand how glad I am that someone else feels this way about him like I feel so wrong about it but?? he's such a cutie?? thank you soso much for sending this in, love this idea <33 so sorry this took so long, life took hold of meee

Beautiful Little Fools

You being a friend of Kai's, and being in several of his streams as an internet personality yourself. Of course, you meet several of his friends, including Ray. He's just using his cheesy "rizz" with Kai's encouragement, and you're laughing on to all his funny tactics.

When the Beta Squad and AMP decide to have the match, there's almost immediately an invitation for you to join in as a host, that you accept gratefully!

The days leading up to the event, you spend a lot of time hanging out with the American group, as well as meeting new people that you become fast friends with.

Ray, however, stays close to either you or Kai at most points, finding himself most comfortable with people he knows pretty well already. Everyone (thought mostly Kai) loves the relationship you two have, and joke around about it a LOT.

You, of course, enjoy his company and help him with training that they have set up for those participating the day before the real match. It's mostly just simple things, though, like returning the balls to him or mock-guarding him.

At some point during the practice, he gets slightly injured, tripping over a ball or something like that. It really isn't that bad, but you find it concerning, especially considering the big match is the following day.

He, however, reassures you, comforting you by patting your head and giving you a brief hug. He doesn't like you being worried about it, so he tried to make sure you understand he's okay.

The next day is obviously intense, and you spend a lot of time making sure Ray is safe, keeping an eye on him throughout the game. You interview him at halftime momentarily, joking around together before he has to go. You also remind him to be safe out there, yelling after him.

He clearly doesn't follow this advice too closely, however, and ends up getting tackled by some larger player (probs Niko lets be so fr) You, of course, feel incredibly scared, watching him from the sidelines all while trying to keep composure as a host.

As he gets guided to the bench to rest, you move yourself over there to talk to him, frantically making sure he's ok. You end up in his arms, him holding you tightly.

After that interaction and him assuring you plenty that he's alright, you go back to doing your job as a host, interviewing other players and such.

Post game, he comes back to see you, striding over to you with intent. It startles you for a moment, when you suddenly see him standing so close to you. He give a short hug followed by a even shorter, nervous kiss.

After a moment of staring at each other, he takes off his jersey, handing it to you with a smile. He doesn't even say anything, just holds it out for you to take.

You end up wearing that jersey on your flight back and on many occasions afterwards. <3

guys I legit don't know why but I really can't tell if I like this style of writing or not. let me know what you think, I'm soso sorry this isn't very good, I truly hope you still enjoy <33

title is a song from great gatsby the musical ofc

anyways, thank you sososo much for being my first ever request, I love you to the moon and back tbh!!

I definitely want to do more of these before school starts to make everything crazy again, so if anyone wants to send something in feel completely free and wanted within my inbox! I'll take requests about pretty much anyone (check out the list of things I love for some reference!!) or I'm for sure here to chat <33

MUAH LOVE YA!!

#ray #kai cenat #amp x reader #amp #beta squad #beta squad x reader #ray x reader

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coquettecouture · 4 months ago

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Achieving the iconic 2015 look as a 2025 girl!

Have you ever told yourself you were born into the wrong generation? Maybe it’s the nostalgia of listening to One Direction on your iPhone 5, or maybe you’re older and can enjoy it more now. Whatever the case may be, if you’re reading this you also miss the good energy of the 2013-2016s. And if that is the case, this is the post for you! Achieving a real and authentic 2015 inspired year is nowhere near as unobtainable as it might seem. From youtube, to fashion inspo let this post be your guide to unleashing your inner icon!

Fashion Inspiration!

King kylie, Bella Hadid, Ariana Grande and Sky Ferreria! All iconic and well known fashion icons. Whether you're a Pinterest 2014 girl or a Tumblr 2015 one, you at least are familiar with one. Luckily a huge part of the era's fashion is it's simplicity. Depending on the sub-style you're going for, your inspiration can range anywhere from shabby chic to grunge!

Regardless of color, most of the essentials remain the same. Skater girl skirts? Make it pink or black, and it works no matter the aesthetic! Though for some things, such as the coquette shabby chic, try things like floral wedges and flowy dresses! And for grunge, try flannels, black skinny jeans and converse! Fashion is all about what works for you, which is why it's important to find your style before anything else. Fashion inspo is just as unique as you are!

Movies and Books!

Of course, to really embrace the energy of a 2015 icon, you have to surround yourself with it! Staple movies like, The Fault in our stars and Paper towns are a way one ticket to nostalgia. Other movies such as Divergent, The Hunger Games, The Great Gatsby and If I Stay are perfect additions to your 2015 movie nights! My personal favorite movies of the time are All the bright places, Naomi and Ely's No Kiss List and LOL. The early 2010's were the best movie era in my opinion and this filmography list proves it!

The books however, are an entirely more diverse subject. While most 2010's movies are either mostly dystopian or romance, the books are a whole different ballpark. From horror to romcom to sci-fi, there's a fit for everyone! The most popular choices are of course John Green and your typical dystopian series; however, I raise a much larger choice of selections. In terms of sci-fi with a mix of romance the Caster Chronicles series (Beautiful Creatures) is a phenomenal series and an even better movie. If horror is more your speed, Natasha Preston's The Cellar and Welcome to the Dark House by Parker Bradley are definitely CoCo approved! Finally for the love nuts, aka me, To All the Boys I've Loved Before is a classic and obvious choice, but I would be a fraud to not include it!

Music Music Music!

One beautiful thing about the 2010's is it's consistency in music that makes you feel! For most people, that feeling is sadness LOL. However, there is poetry in that writing which makes the inner ache of somber all worth it for the bliss of melody. Artists like The 1975, Marina, Lana Del Rey and Lorde are all versatile and perfect artists to get you right back in that nostalgic state!

Whether you're looking for a more girlish vibe or a darker energy, the 2010's are a great time for whatever musical desires you have! I will leave my link to my 2014 playlist right here! Whether you use it for yourself or inspiration is up to you! Please let me know in the comments if you end up liking it, or link your own playlists!!!

Room Decor!

The quickest way to achieve a realistic 2015 inspired room is to go onto Pinterest and find your niche! For some super personal ideas on how to make your room aesthetically you, check out some old DIY YouTube videos. They range from various aesthetics, and you can personalize them anyway you please! My favorite youtubers to watch are MyLifeAsEva, LaurDIY, Alisha Marie and of course my queen of DIY Bethany Mota.

For the overall aesthetic, if you’re one of the grungier girls, opt for posters like The 1975 or The Neighborhood. Things like black throw pillows or printed out photos of you and your friends are perfect for achieving your look. Cutting out clippings from magazines and making collages is also a fun and free way to personalize your room!

Now if you’re like me and you’re more of a pink girl, try floral sheets like tulips or daisies! Fur throw pillows and double sided sequin pillows are a good touch for your bed too. Posters like Lana Del Rey and Ariana Grande are more 2015-esque touches, along with string lights and polaroids!

No matter the aesthetic, what’s really important is personalization! You don’t want your room to be the same as everyone else’s, it should be unique and showcase who you are!

In Conclusion..

Whether you’re a Tumblr grunge or a Pinterest shabby chic, I hope this guide helps you in any way it can! The most important thing about truly making this year your dream aesthetic is all in your experience. 2025 is what you make it! Whether it’s staying at home all day reading TFIOS, or if it’s going out and taking polaroids on the beach. Any year can be any aesthetic you want, as long as you hope it so. Even small things like hanging out with friends or watching nostalgic YouTube videos can make your year what you want it to be!

Thank you so much for reading, and for all of the support I have gotten! I truly haven’t been posting for long, but I have already made friends and gotten so much love and I want to thank you all so very much for it! If there’s anything you’re interesting in me reading, or want a more in depth explanation for, please let me know in the comments! I love you divas, stay cutesy!

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kyrithenerd · 3 months ago

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JASPER HALE HEADCANONS 2

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

I can see him being really into Arctic monkeys, HIM and Chris Isaac.

He feels terrible about the civil war and what happened with Maria and is often depressed about it.

He's also very insecure about his scars and bite marks. He doesn't wear anything that shows them around anyone except you and some of the Cullens.

When you two first started hanging out he was constantly asking Rosalie for advice, and still does when he runs out of gift ideas.

Had a phase where he tried wearing contacts to blend in more but it irritated his eyes enough to stop.

Gets really overwhelmed in crowded spaces bc he feels everyone's emotions, so he's not the concert buddy.

He still goes to festivals with you, but that's bc he loves you and not the festival in itself.

Has a huge vinyl connection.

Misses the 60s-80s A LOT.

He thinks a lot about what would happen if he lost you, and he can't see himself.

He secretly thinks Tanya is very annoying and foolish for being into Edward like that.

He's part of the school paper.

Reads a lot of books and often compares your relationship with fictional couples.

"You know darlin', I love you like Gatsby loved Daisy"

"Honey, you're my Nastenka" and so on.

Has a private library bc he can and why not.

I can see him fighting in one or both of the world wars (on the side of America, obviously)

He's big on geography and visited every country, collecting fridge magnets from everywhere.

He hated Bella at first but won't admit it bc of the Cullens. He also didn't understand why Edward was so open with her.

Mythology fanatic.

Didn't take P.E. for a long time bc of his bloodlust.

Isn't a fan of Spanish bc of Maria.

He has awful short term memory but an incredible long term one

HELL OF A DANCER. I mean really, he knows every famous dance from every decade he was alive for.

Was a hippie at some point (he doesn't like to talk about it)

Got his motorcycle license taken away a few times for going over the speed limit.(He wasn't putting anyone in danger tho)

Is addicted to energy drinks.

"Hun, I can't have a heart attack, my heart is not beating .... You can make it race tho-"

His fav monster is the violet one and his favorite hell is black cherry.

Can't say tongue twisters, blames it on his accent.

In over a century he never learned how to drive a car, bike guy till the grave.

Still has horses and rides, breeds and cares for them as a hobby.

He's very good at archery, both from shooting while in the saddle or not, he doesn't miss his target.

Got canceled on Twitter for saying that pineapple belongs on pizza.

Despite his tasting being mostly gone from being a vampire he loves Italian and Greek food!

Cracks his knuckles loudly to annoy people

Writes a diary.

He actually has a pretty good handwriting bc he studied calligraphy.

Loves Victorian poems.

He's a little sad that he missed victorian Europe for the wild west.

Writes his own books but never publishes them bc he's afraid of judgment.

He has self-image issues. He often compares himself to Emmett and hates how lean he is. Even if deep down knows he can't change that now it bothers him no matter how much you tell him that he's perfect.

Takes a bath every day despite the lack of need for him to actually do it. He just likes the hot water.

He sings and acts surprisingly good! He played in musicals too.

Knows people like Stephen King personally.

He's a DiCaprio over Pitt type of guy.

He watches the titanic with you every time you want him to

Collects real swords from all eras and all around the world.

He doesn't like Taylor Swift but listens to her with you if you want him to.

Loves when you get your nails done for some reason.

Played the "get Rick Rolled" meme w/ Emmett for months.

He loves classical music but instead of being Debussy obsessed like Edward he's more of a Puccini person.

Actually calls Carlisle and Esme mom and dad instead of their names.

Unbeatable at Monopoly

OKIII THAT'S ALL FOR TODAY!

I'd like to apologize for being inactive in these past days, I have a school play/ dance (basically English waltz) we have to do and it's consuming me so excuse my absence! My requests are still open so feel free to ask me anything<3

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arrow-jsy · 2 months ago

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Here Are My 100 DBDA IDEAS

As some of you may know, i started a list of all my ideas expecting to reach maybe 40? And well i was at 40 by the time i finished going through some old tumblr posts. And then i kinda kept having an idea or two (or 3 or 5) a day and here we are. i dont think i will ever write all of these, lets be real the list is going to keep growing, but i have no intention of writing some of these but i had the thought so i wrote it down

this is a long post friends

IF YOU SEE AN IDEA YOU LIKE FEEL FREE TO TAKE IT AS INSPIRATION BUT PLEASE TAG ME WHEN YOU POST IT, not because i want credit but because id love to read it <3

The numbers are what they are on the list, mostly in order of when i had the idea but a few are old ideas i remembered. But for reading convenience i organized them a bit, categories are loosy goosey but there was an effort

Posted ideas

1. Ghosthunting AU

3. Mechanic AU

38. Charles gets a teddy bear

39. Charles under a love potion 100. (actually the first fic i wrote for this fandom but i havent thought about it in so long) Monty's first bit as a human 2. Charles gets stuck in a mirror learning to mirror hop

Kinda Canon Compliant

4. Gladys isnt a made up character for episode 6

5. Esther's Backstory

12. Post s1 with Jenny being able to see ghosts, she sees her parents

13. NN tries to teach Charles manners (hes so adhd)

14. The boys first night together (and as ghosts)

27. Mick takes Monty in after Esther dies

49. Edwin cant orb beacuse of his experience in Hell

Not Really Canon Compliant

46. Charles has never been on a date

57. Monty is a vulture instead of a crow

68. Esther is Edwin's mom

89. Edwin has glasses (with the little hanging chains)

Media AUs (musicals and movies)

11. Monty Tangled AU

19. Newsies (musical) AU

20. Wicked AU

21. The Grear Gatsby (musical) AU

24. LOTR AU

33. Huntchback of Notre Dame (musical not disney movie) AU

37. Princess Bride AU

45. Adjustment Bureau AU

51. Bonnie and Clyde (musical) AU

52. Palaski Howls Moving Castle AU

53. Paynland Les Mis AU

61. Tinkerbell AU

64. Beetlejuice AU

65. Spirited Away AU

66. Nonstop & Hurricane (from Hamilton) Edwin in Hell/with his journal au?

71. Payneland Heathers JD/Veronica (more movie) AU

77. Payneland Twisters (2024) AU

83. Bring Him Home (from Les Mis) Jenny as Valjean, Niko as Marius

84. Stardust AU

90. Coraline AU

92. HTTYD AU

93. Kimberly Akimbo AU

94. Palaski Dash & Lily AU

Other Conneted to Media AUs

8. Payneland Hades and Persephone Au

9. Edwin is Crowley and Azi's (good omens) son

56. Payneland Joker and Harley Quinn AU

58. Freaky Friday with Edwin and Crystal

87. Payneland Post Hadestown (they both get out) AU

88. Payneland Tale Tale Heart AU

91. Stardew Valley AU

97. Starwars fan Charles

98. Movie night boys watch Dead Poets Society

Other AUs

10. DND AU

15. Foster family AU

16. Jenny "The Butcher" zombie apocalypse AU

17. Coffee shop AU

18. College AU : poli-sci Edwin, social justice Charles

23. Journalist/reporter Edwin, military Charles

26. Highschool AU

31. Modern Charles using dead Edwin's poems in his songs (rock ballads)

32. Payneland musician and tour manager

28. Historical anatomist Edwin and grave robber Charles

35. Alien/hybrid AU

40. Chef Charles and food critic Edwin

41. Archeologist Edwin and Treasure hunter Charles

43. Nail tech Niko and makeup artist Crystal

44. Spy AU

47. Payneland actor AU

54. Formal fantasy's Gala

55. Serial killer Edwin just trying to keep detective Charles attention

60. Med student Edwin

62. Arranged marriage

63. Drag performance

67. If the boys were ghosts during the Blitz

69. Payneland gladiator fighters

72. They're bakers

73. Criminal Crystal with Edwin as her parole officer

74. Cyclist Charles and Runner Edwin

78. Payneland Scuba diver and mermaid

79. Drunk driving Charles meets Edwin in the ER after a crash

80. Edwin's a sniper

81. Prison Break

82. Payneland streamer AU (charles on camera edwin private)

99. Horse racer Edwin

Long Winded Explinations

36. Apprenticeship au (charles&jenny, niko&kashi, monty&mick,crystal&esther, edwin&maxine)

48. Football star charles leaving the sport after he meets clueless about sports edwin to who he is smart edwin and realizes how dangerous it is

85. Kashi is some prince or something imprisoned in angie.....mick is a pirate bounty hunter or something going to save him

86. Mick is going through his stock and finds a trinket thats muttering - its a sending stone and kashi has the other half, he keeps it as a companion

95. kashi is a sailor turned pirate who always takes home little treasures (small things like rocks and shells) back to mick on land

96. Edwin losses his parents to a car crash and refuses to use cars or buses and then meets charles whos some maniac racer or back street drag driver and Payneland and angst ensues

Named But Unwritten (unposted, living rent free in my mind and google docs)

6. Captain of Hell

75. Where the Road Meets the Roots

Everything Else

7. Tragic mick pirate captain

22. Charles brings a cat back to the office

25. Vigilante Edwin

29. Charles with a motorcycle

30. Werewolf Charles

34. Crystal and Esther witch rivalry

42. Kashi pulls NN away from work so they can go on a date

50. Alive AU snowday

59. Kashi/mick pirare au (general)

70. Zamboni Monty one shot

76. Pre (my) valentines fic, dead bride

if you made it this far thanks for reading, please tell me your favorite idea from the list!!

id like to thank @makemeimmortalwithahug @ahyperactivehero @genevievefangirl the most, for hanging out in the DBDA Haunt sever and being there when i come up with most of these ideas

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbda fanfic #arrow writes #100 dbda ideas

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velaris-fic-repository · 3 months ago

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Modern Things I Believe ACOTAR Characters Would Love

I selected some of these for comedic purposes but mostly based on vibes

Feyre

Sandbox/Color-by-number apps

Renaissance Festivals

Gracie Abrams

Themed makeup/face paint videos

Big cardigans

Texting using only emojis

Giving silly nicknames to all of her contacts

Floor Time™️

Sprayed/Stenciled edges on books

Websites where you can search recipes based on ingredients you already have

Six the Musical

Stuffed animals made to look like miniature versions of real animals

DIY channels

Paintball

Rhysand

Tumblr aesthetic moodboards

Black IKEA furniture

The Great Gatsby (both book and musical)

Aladdin

Throw blankets

Met Gala outfits

Owl City

Prank Wars

Daily Affirmations

Origami star jars

Fairy lights

Sheer shirts

The theatre kid aesthetic

Nesta

BOOKTOK

WITCHTOK

The PWHL (Favorite Team: The Minnesota Frost)

P!nk

The Traitors

Bath bombs

Fuzzy socks

GoodReads

Immersive audiobook + physical book reading

Fail compilations

Slasher movies

Complicated Starbucks orders

Self defense weapons disguised as other things

Elain

Baking blogs

Scrapbook journaling

Starkid musicals

The Owl House

Jean jacket + dress outfits

Water bottle stickers

The Arcadian Wild (their music is really good!)

Travel vlogs

Build-a-Bear

Shakespeare productions

Volunteer work

Petitions

Earth Day

Every Day’s A Holiday calendars

Mor

Reddit “Am I The Asshole” posts and videos

Hear Me Out Cakes

Arcane

Wearing converse with dresses

Charcuterie parties

Also Met Gala outfits

Prank parking citations

Mario Kart and other such party games

Cards Against Humanity

SNL

Having a phone case for every outfit

Glitter gel pens

Leather jackets in colors other than black

The rediscovery of Shakespearean insults

Amren

Cryptids/Urban Legends

Horror podcasts

Dark Academia literature

Uno

One Night Ultimate Werewolf

Friendship jewelry

Themed Study/Ambience music

Book tabs

Desk lamps

Battery operated candles

Dracula Daily

Whodunnits

Logic puzzles

Halloween decorations

Cassian

The Green/Red Flag Guy

The PWHL (Favorite Team: The Montreal Victoire)

Those dog daycare/adoption center videos where they list funny things about the animals

Sleeveless hooded gym shirts

Shirts that say things like, “I flexed so hard my sleeves ripped off”

The Olympics

Water bottles with the motivational checkpoints written on them

The Emperor’s New Groove

“Action Man? Who the hell is Action Man? Oh my god, no, it’s John Wick” and other such meme TikTok sounds

Marvel movies

Fluffy romance novels

Super Bowl Commericals

Chaotic cooking shows

Chappell Roan

Azriel

Cat videos of any kind

Unconventional pets like snakes and lizards

The PWHL (Favorite Team: The Boston Fleet)

LED light strips

Buzzfeed Unsolved

True Crime

Dubstep

Bluetooth headphones

Motorcycles and dirt bikes

Night driving

Batman comics and movies

Silent discos

Fake plants

“Stalking” people on social media

Lucien

Baldur’s Gate 3

Critical Role

DND in general

National parks

Travel mugs

Postcards

Poetry collections

Hot Chocolate mixes with the mini marshmallows

Saying things to women to ensure they aren’t afraid of him when passing them on a hike

Nature documentaries, especially ones with sarcastic narration

Scientific hubris as a trope

Cozy fantasy books

Book lights

PowerPoint nights

#acotar #acotar memes #feyre archeron #rhysand #nesta archeron #elain archeron #morrigan #morrigan acotar #amren #amren acotar #cassian #cassian acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #lucien vanserra

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slozhnos · 10 months ago

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i love how in some moments in the gatsby musical the gatsby accent isn’t as prominent. it seems like a very purposeful choice to show the persona of gatsby being let down a bit, and you see the real him, jay.

#you can hear it in some parts of songs specifically #but it definitely becomes less prominent when he is with daisy #its very clear in ‘my green light’#his emotions take hold over him in that song and he forgets the facade of gatsby and is *jay* again even if it is for a short time #jay gatsby #jeremy jordan #the great gatsby musical #musical theatre #daisy buchanan #great gatsby #the great gatsby #bway gatsby

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theatrical-penguin · 1 year ago

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I saw 10 of the new shows this year (3 Revivals and 7 New Musicals). So I decided to rate and rank them:

1 - Suffs 10/10 - What an incredible show! Such a talented cast and I want the soundtrack immediately! I had tears streaming down my face at the end of both acts. Shaina Taub and Hannah Cruz are particularly great. And Grace McLean as Pres Wilson is hilarious. The set is excellently done to evoke the locales and move things along. Strong direction all the way. My pick for Best Musical.

2 - Water For Elephants 9.5/10 - amazing cast; should get an award for ensemble; nice use of puppets - Rosie reveal was perfect. Grant was incredible as was August. Went up in rank as the week went on because the music really stuck with me and I wanted to hear it again.

3 - Outsiders 9//10 - loved the choreo. Ponyboy is great. The gravel stage and flashlights were particularly effective. Best lighting design and use of rain

4 - Merrily We Roll Along 8.5/10 - was slightly concerned by Groff’s flat affect in first scene until it became clear it was a choice as he became more vibrant as time moved back. Daniel was perfect and the friendship between the 3 leads really came through. His Franklin Shepherd Inc is worth the Tony on its own. I can only assume I was supposed to hate Gussie because I totally did.

5 - Cabaret 8/10 - confession: I had never seen Cabaret in any form and I didn’t research the plot so I had no idea what was happening between the KitKat numbers. Really good production- excellent staging, never felt left out in the round. Eddie Redmayne was creepily intriguing. Sally seemed more broken than I would have thought from hearing songs from previous productions. Dark and moody; not a huge fan of the immersive preshow. No program pic bc they covered all phone cameras with stickers on the way in (before giving us a shot of really bad schnapps)

6 - The Wiz 8/10 - bright and fun! Excellent performances especially the 4 leads. LOVE the Lion. Costumes are gorgeous and the dancing is fabulous. Does Wayne Brady have to be there the whole show since he’s not on til Act 2?

7 - Gatsby 8/10 - bubbly and fun; loved the opulence of set & costumes; great dancing and some really good songs; loved Jeremy Jordan’s Gatsby - the insecurities coming through the glam

8 - Notebook 7.5/10 - Heartbreaking performance by Old Allie especially. What is with that water on stage this year?

9 - Hells Kitchen 7/10 - great dancing. Lead actress was great but maybe im too old to identify with her instead of her mother. Again with death of a supporting character.

10 - Back To The Future 7/10 - Roger Bart is hilarious - definitely the reason to see the show. Set was actually a little underwhelming - too much reliance on projections. Some fun numbers but no real standouts.

Overall: no shows I disliked this time. VERY strong season. Some really creative use/resuses of minimalistic elements this season. Other season trends: full size cars and actual rain. And death - so much death

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fertabranche · 7 months ago

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Trying to list off the r1999 references I can find.

I’m only doing the very beginning in this post so I think it’s a lot of things people already know, but if I don’t do this in order I will simply perish so here we go

Prologue : This is Tomorrow

Part One : Rock 'n' Roll Radio

• This Is Tomorrow

The prologue title is a reference to a contemporary art exhibition that took place in 1956. From what I understand, its purpose was to update the definition of art by challenging the prejudices of the institutions of the time, for instance by using pop culture symbols, this kind of stuff. It would later be regarded as the precursor of the British Pop Art movement, one of the main aesthetic movements of the 60s, which is therefore also relevant in the prologue.

I’ve already written a post about this, but I feel like this title choice is more than an artistic reference, it also makes sense thematically. Later on in the chapter, the Sixties are described as such:

Thanks to our 20/20 hindsight vision we know this is meant to be read in a tragic irony kind of way. The title reads the same to me: there will never be a tomorrow long enough for progress to take root in a world where the Storm is still raging, and in that sense the game began painting that picture here.

• Rock 'n' Roll Radio

This is the title of the prologue's first part. I think it’s named after the song "Do You Remember Rock 'n' Roll Radio?" (1980) by the Ramones. From what I understand, it’s as much of a love letter to rock music from the era Regulus was from as it is a warning about the threat nostalgia can pose to creativity.

Once again, it kind of reads as tragic irony given how it’s the second time they’ve been in the 60s. This is worse than nostalgia they’re literally stuck in the past lmao.

youtube

The Great Gatsby

Now that the titles are out of the way: the story opens up with the last lines from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. The game does not include the first sentence of the quote, but I’ve chosen to use a slightly longer version here because that’s how it makes the most sense to me.

Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter-tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning——

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I have not read the book, so I’m not fully confident trying to analyze it, but from what I understand, the green light is a motif throughout the novel that symbolizes longing. (Or the American Dream, but I don’t think that line of interpretation is terribly relevant in the prologue.)

To be super brief and include as little spoilers as possible, the book tells the story of a man named Gatsby, who grew up in poverty and decided to reinvent himself as a rich man in hope of winning back over a woman he once loved. Though he is known to throw lavish parties, one of the key points of the novel is apparently when the narrator finds him outside of one, staring across the bay at a green light coming from the end of that woman’s deck. This obsession eventually ends in tragedy.

As highlighted in the end quote, this is the story of a man forever stuck in the present, between a past he can never forget nor escape, and an illusionary future he can never quite reach. Just like with the other two references, I think R1999 is quoting this half literally, since the characters share similar issues with the flow of time, but like, for real this time.

What I do find interesting here is that from what I could research, I don’t think the quote is meant to be read as a wholly nihilistic take on the purpose of the human condition? There’s also a little bit of an implied admiration for the resilience synonymous with such cyclicality.

And I do find that sense of neutrality kind of accurate to the vibe of the game? Life sucks, but they beat on quite beautifully, don’t they? :,)

Newton Street

Granted this one may be a reach, but I do find it a little too convenient that we meet Mr.Apple on Newton Street of all places. I could write an entire other post on the references to Isaac Newton in his profile, but since that aspect of his character has never been discussed in the main story, I don’t think it’s relevant here.

Regulus’ Record Collection

In the first part, we get two peeks into her record collection. I don’t think they are all meant to be real records, and it’s kind of way too pixelated to see anyway, but I’m pretty sure I see Please Please Me (1963) and perhaps Rubber Soul (1965) by the Beatles on the right side of her office, though I might just be losing it from staring at pixels for too long.

On the wall of the other picture, I think there’s Please Please Me again, My Generation (1965) by The Who, December’s Children (1965) by The Rolling Stones, and potentially an upside down Aladdin Sane by David Bowie even though it was only released in 1973?

EDIT : here is a great post detailing her collection even more!

Sixties Fashion

Another area I’m definitely not an expert in, so take everything with a grain of salt but I unfortunately cannot shut my mouth.

Idk how much I should source this, but basically, Regulus’ clothes are super inspired by the fashion trends of the Sixties. For example, from what I’ve read, one of the most popular looks of the era for women was what was apparently called a mini dress with "go go boots" (low heeled mid calf white boots), which is pretty much what she’s wearing right? Similarly, the 60s were apparently the era where sunglasses truly became fashion accessories, as it’s when plastic became more mainstream to use than metal, which allowed a lot more freedom of design.

I also read a bunch of articles to try to see if her accessories had any historical significance: this article on chiffon scarves throughout history explains they were mainly used in the 60s to "coordinate with an outfit", but could have bold prints, just like hers does. This one on knee high socks in the 60s, says that they apparently became quite popular because of the mini dresses, in order to still provide coverage. This one was about the newsboy cap, which was apparently very trendy amongst young women back then. And finally, this one explains that backpacks became popular among young people in the sixties, as it’s around when they were modernized for day to day use by becoming smaller and lighter.

I did fail to identify what kind of jackets she is wearing though, it kind of looks like some kind of motorbike jacket on the left and perhaps a type of rain coat on the right? In which case, both were popular at the time as motorbikes were an integral part of the counter culture of the era, and raincoats were apparently a fashion trend for women back then.

Radio Pirate

I feel like this is a pretty well known fact by now but I’m including it in order to be thorough: there is a historical reason as to why Regulus is calling herself a pirate.

In the Sixties, the growing interest for pop and rock music was not catered to by the official radio stations just yet, so what we call "pirate radios" started broadcasting it from offshore ships. This was technically not illegal as they were in international waters, but was still kind of frowned upon because they didn’t observe copyrights law and stuff like that?

And that’s exactly what Regulus is doing when the Manus attacks her in the prologue.

Okay that’s it for this part. I’ll cover part 2 in another post if I have the energy, hope I didn’t make mistakes o777

#reverse 1999 #regulus reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 references #r1999 #reverse1999 #my post

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manicplank · 1 year ago

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I’m going to keep this simple, I want a headcanon about their favorite movies.

fuck this might suck bc I don't watch a lot of movies. bare with me here it might not be super specific.

FAVORITE MOVIES

Peppino: I feel like he would enjoy classic movies like Titanic or The Great Gatsby. Classy and classic. Hates horror movies. Actually watches movies quite often.

Gustavo: Also loves the classics. I can see him watching Sweeny Todd or The Master of Disguise. He likes comedy movies, too. I can imagine that he loved the movie Elf.

Mr. Stick: Loves mafia movies. Thinks he's an old fashioned ganster when in reality, he's just greedy. The Godfather is his favorite. He probably also liked Knives Out.

Pepperman: I don't see him watching too many videos since he's always busy painting. However, I think he would really like cheesy movies. Fame would probably be one of them. Probably even loved the movie Chicago.

The Vigilante: Anything old western. Dreams of being a real cowboy. Once watched Brokeback Mountain not realize what the movie was ACTUALLY about, he was thoroughly traumatized. His favorite was The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

The Noise: HEAR. ME. OUT. This absolute fucking crack baby would LOVE the first two Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies. He tried to get Noisette to watch them with him, but she started crying because it was too disturbing. I feel like he'd love slasher films in general. Judges most movies as he thinks his are better. (Secretly loves Inside Out. Cried over it. Noisette teases him about it constantly.) Also loved Parasite and The SpongeBob Movie.

Noisette: She loves anything Disney, especially the classics or princesses. Knows all the songs to Frozen. Her favorite was Tangled. She still hasn't stopped asking for a white horse and an iguana sidekick. She always cries at movies. She doesn't like horror or gore in movies. She also loves cheesy chick flicks and Noise's movies. She's his #1 fan, after all.

Fake Peppino: Will watch anything and everything. He will watch it on repeat until he memorizes every line. If I had to choose a favorite for him, it would probably be The Little Mermaid (animated version). He really likes the water aspect. It reminds him of being a little baby tadpole.

Pizzahead: Movie fanatic. Loves most movies and will watch any genre. Anything from the classic 1930's movie to new modern movies. Probably would love the Barbie movie. I feel like he would like musicals. His all time favorite would probably be Gone with the Wind. I also see him enjoying slasher films.

Pillar John: Likes comedy movies. Probably likes the movie Meatballs. Also likes documentaries. I feel like he would be into both Disney and DreamWorks, one of his favorites being Guardians of the Galaxy.

Gerome: Big movie lover and will watch almost anything. Secretly enjoys The Noise's movies, but won't tell him because he refuses to feed his ego. He probably can't choose just one favorite.

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #headcanon #pizzahead #noisette #peppino #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #pepperman #mr. stick #the vigilante #pizza tower gerome #pizza tower gustavo

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real-odark · 1 year ago

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intro post !!

hi, im jett! (or bryon) i use he / him and im a minor [14] :3. i like to draw and talk and jsjqjkdkksm.w. :3! i'll post about whatever im interested in at the moment !! (current interests tab on this post [1 paragraph down] will be updated whenever my main interests change!)

CURRENT MAIN INTEREST(s): les miserables, poto

STRAWPAGE :: https://bjnovak.straw.page ((condensed info website))

more info... ! vvv

DNI: if you are a bigot in any way shape or form (homophobes racists antisemites transphobes ableists terfs and more) get off!! of my page!!!! if you participate in cringe culture because thats not a real thing and you're boring + dumb ++ my cringe friends and i solo. ratio. pro-isr//l do NOT interact. genuine rpf shippers please go away! and finally dni if youre an nsfw or kink blog or anything like that please [ i do not care about the ages of my followers but i am fourteen so if you feel uncomfortable interacting that is fine!!! if you are comfortable please just obviously act appropriately you know better ]

the list i provide will probably be updated as my interests change, but heres some things i like / am interested in :-) !!!!1!1!1

- theatre; (ride the cyclone, little shop of horrors, regina comet, book of mormon, newsies, heathers, hamilton, falsettos, 25apcsb, moulin rouge, les misérables, phantom of the opera, beetlejuice, six, epic the musical, etc..), classic rock (THE BEATLES !!!!1!1!1), us history/government,, shows; (himym, the bear, omitb, ted lasso, so many sitcoms actually, twin peaks, med dramas, etc..), movies (mcu, 80s films, saw franchise, misc movies usually ones my fav actors r in lmao), almost any book written by S.E. hinton (outsiders, tex, twttin, rumble fish, ttsr), the great gatsby, the odyssey/iliad and a lot more stuff !

fun facts ;; favorite color is green !, i love collecting trinkets (especially rocks, buttons, vinyl, and funko pops), and my fav animals are eagles and penguins ::;::#,2.

TAGS i use;

any of my original posts: #jett talks (me)

my art: #jett art (me)

lyrics i post: #jett lyrics (me)

my asks/stuff: #jett inbox (me)

my polls (poll games/etc): #jett poll (me)

my gifs: #jett gifs (me)

OTHER SOCIALS?:

im on insta as cyndilaupers, letterboxd as bryondouglasirl, and x as bryonism !!

my inbox is always open if u have anything to ask!

#NAVIGATION ::#jett talks (me)#jett art (me)#jett lyrics (me)#jett inbox (me)#jett poll (me)#jett gifs (me)

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man-down-in-hatchet-town · 6 months ago

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THE CASE OF THE GREATER GATSBY EPISODES 20-21

Okay, so tomorrow is the release of the LAST EVER EPISODE OF GREATER GATSBY (cry with me, folks!), and while I’ve been keeping up with my listening I have fallen a bit behind with these analysis posts, largely because these last few episodes have been so jammed packed with answers that up until last week there wasn’t much theorizing to do. So while this post is about episodes 20-22, I’m writing it after having already listened to episode 23 multiple times. I’ll do my best not to spoil anything from episode 23 in the thoughts below, but there will probably be a lot less pondering and guesswork than usual.

Anyways, spoilers for episodes 20, 21, and 22 under the cut!

Okay, first things first—are Shipwrecked really going to get away with not letting us in on Ford’s secret? I couldn’t quite tell what Fig was saying when Ford cut her off, so I pulled up the transcript and it looks like she says “I can’t believe you managed to them all in—“ Which, for the life of me, sounds like absolute nonsense. I’ve spent hours trying to come up with what she could be about to say, and I’ve drawn a blank. Any ideas?

Speaking of Ford, our boy definitely needs therapy. While I understand the place his anger is coming from, probably a lot better than Ford himself does, he does need to remember that technically Fig was hired to shadow Willy as a bodyguard and was technically there on set in her capacity as a P..I. as well. I predicted from the start that Fig’s side job would clash quite badly with Ford’s trauma, and frankly I’m surprised it’s taken this long to get there. But here we are and I am sad. :(

But hopes springs anew! Mel has officially shuttered The Grapes of Wrath! This seems like another tick in my “Mel is intentionally sabotaging the movie” column. If anything, the only real evidence contradicting that theory is that it took so long for her to shut it down in the first place. Perhaps Beanslot is particularly keen on Steinbeck? Regardless, Mel is still my personal favorite suspect for writing the letters, or at least for being the person behind them (I don’t quite believe she composed any of the messages herself). I know Fig and Ford believe the threatening author and the murderer are one and the same, but we have no real evidence for that, beyond the word of the letter writer. Plenty of people could have figured out he was likely murdered, and decided to use that increase the power of their anonymous threats. Mel, for instance, could have learned from Mo Beats. And now that I know who the murderer seems to be (more on that in my next post), I’m not sure what their motive for writing the threatening letters would even be.

Moving on from all these questions, let’s talk a bit about answers. TD stole The Greater Gatsby during the night of Mel’s party to bribe his way into Bixby’s Brigade. He gave the script to Willy on the suggestion of Roger, who was keen on his movie-star wife getting arrested and joining him in prison. Guys, I love Roger. I know he’s kinda’ terrible but I just can’t help it; I guess it’s that classic Gabe Greenspan magic. And he and Willy are, in a very odd and slightly worrying way, kinda’ perfect for each other. The swelling music cue that plays every time Willy decides his dubious criminal action is actually The Most Romantic Thing ever(TM) makes me laugh. Every. Single. Time. It helps that Roger is such a silly goose that it’s impossible to imagine any of his harebrained schemes actually resulting in harm coming to his lovely wife. That’s just not the narrative vibe, I guess. Also, I was right about Dash keeping an eye on Wilhelmina on Roger’s orders! Yay me!

The other bout of answers comes from the Punchwhistle triplets and their grand reunion in Fig and Ford’s office. As expected, “George Astrum” is both Eugene Punchwhistle and the Hinge Highwayman. Except for my brief foray into “Barnaby is Eugene!” madness (look, not all of my crazy theories can be right), George has been my top candidate for Eugene since his introduction in Scott’s tapes. Meanwhile, it turns out that Lex had not been kidnapped or swept up in some epic trail of clues, but had simply gone to ground as part of the search for her missing brother. While I missed the delightful Esther Fallick, the moment where they asked Lex if she was aware she’d been recast was maybe my favorite line of the episode. Love a good bit of meta humor. Lex also gives more evidence that the writer of the threatening letters has plenty of access to the set. While this does point a finger towards the supposed killer unmasked in the next episode, it could also point to any number of other characters. I’ll probably come out of this looking very silly, but, as I said, I’m still not convinced that our killer and adaption-hater are in fact one and the same…

A Couple of Other Thoughts: -If Ford hadn’t been acting so ridiculous about Fig’s onset work, she probably would have taken him more seriously when he said not to hand Mel the script. As it is, I supposed we should just be thankful that Mel did, in fact, destroy it. -Mel and Ford, for all that he hates her, seem to have the same opinion on the bookclub. I don’t think that’s particularly important, other than as an indicator that Ford’s perspective is a bit out of whack, but it’s funny regardless. -God, to be a fly on the wall next time Mel sees TD. I want a three hour Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf-esque character study about THAT.

#the case of the greater gatsby #fig and ford #fig wineshine #ford phillips #mel hammermeister #td hammermeister #wilhelmina vanderjetski #roger haircreme #eugene punchwhistle #punchwhistle twins #punchwhistle triplets #shipwrecked comedy #greater gatsby

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eleapolitan · 10 months ago

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WHAT'S TODAY'S SPECIAL?

✩ THE GREAT GATSBY

: a few luxurious vanilla bean scoops, alongside a bright pistachio scoop and a drizzle of some quintessentially american hot fudge to top it off.

I’ve seen Gatsby: An American Myth at the ART two times now, and it’s been such a pleasure both times, with it quickly becoming my favorite show I’ve ever seen or witnessed in my entire life. At this point, there’s no real breakdown of the songs or story yet, and I wanted to detail my own thoughts on the score of the musical. So, here’s my review and summary of every song from Gatsby: An American Myth, in the best way I could possibly articulate it.

— SPOILERS FOR THE GREAT GATSBY BY F. SCOTT FITZGERALD AND GATSBY: AN AMERICAN MYTH AHEAD. read the better version of this on my substack !!

WELCOME TO THE NEW WORLD

NICK, ENSEMBLE

Welcome To The New World is our opening number, and it’s a phenomenal entrance to the story and themes of The Great Gatsby. It starts with NICK, explaining who he is, why he left for New York, and the general vibe of New York as he arrives, and transforms into a full company performance. The choreography really carries this song, but the detailing of New York and its culture at the time of the story is done so well in the lyrics, really emphasizing the passion and energy in the city and state. what i love most is that the song opens on the common people of New York, those that attend GATSBY's parties but are not a part of the “elite,” with clear references to those characters in the company being immigrants, from out of the country and from other parts of the country itself. This idea of the song being sung by the average person in New York really lends itself to the introduction of TOM, DAISY, and JORDAN, who, during the song, are watching the company dancers from a higher level of the stage. as the song concludes, TOM says something along the lines of “quiet down” or a comment about the amount of noise from the other side of the pond, forming a line of class before the show even truly begins. crazy fun beat, crazy fun choreography, and such a captivating start that really draws you into the world of the great Gatsby, despite its weakness in catchiness.

a solid opening number, being incredibly fun with fantastic and dynamic choreography, although not the best song on its own in comparison to other gatsby: an american myth tracks or other musical openings. won’t be a super interesting listen for those who only have access to the score, but will be a super fun watch for everyone who sees the show, and a great start to an even better show!

GOLDEN GIRL

DAISY

Golden Girl is DAISY’s first solo, and it’s good. for context, the scene previous to this is DAISY confronting TOM about taking a phone call, presumably from a woman or mistress, while they are hosting dinner, and demanding he hang up. he hangs up the phone and hurts her hand in the process, to which she crumbles in pain, with TOM then telling her that she is “being a bad host,” which leads into the song. Detailing DAISY’s emotions of always feeling the need to be perfect, and feeling as though she was pushed from being a debutante directly into being a bride, Golden Girl should be incredibly emotionally touching, especially as DAISY begins to reminisce on a previous love and another possible life, but it’s just not. Golden Girl is fine, and that’s the best way to say it, and it rests a lot on the gorgeous vocals of Charlotte MacInnes. The lyrics are okay, but at this point in the story, the song reads strangely, and it’s just a bit boring to sit through. I think Golden Girl does it’s job explaining DAISY’s feelings, I wish it just did it in a more interesting way, because it feels a bit like an afterthought, and a little forced into the overall flow of the story. Golden Girl’s crime is that of being boring, and that is the real tragedy of the song.

overall, a very basic take on daisy without very compelling ideas or lyrics, that rests on the vocals and acting ability of the performer and not on its own merits. not the worst i've seen in theater before, but my own personal contender for one of my least favorite of this show’s numbers. disappointing for daisy’s first solo, but will be a genuinely great audition piece for those looking for something from the show. this is likely a controversial take, but i just didn’t enjoy it.

VALLEY OF ASHES

MYRTLE, WILSON, ENSEMBLE

Now. We’re. Talking. MYRTLE and WILSON are so cool in this production, and Valley of Ashes only cements that further. It’s a fantastic company number with a balanced focus between MYRTLE, WILSON, and the rest of the company that centers on the working class’s view of New York and the dichotomy between them and those with money, both new and old. It introduces crucial characters, interesting plot and thematic elements, and from what I recall, it’s sound and choreography is captivating for an audience. Both Solea Phiffer and Shea Renne performed beautifully as MYRTLE, and Matthew Amira makes me actually care about WILSON in ways I didn’t think were possible. It’s just so good, and is such an edgy, interesting performance. Huge fan!

a great company performance with a variety of skills from acting to dance to vocals on display from every member of the cast performing. takes everything amazing about the opening, and dials it up now that it knows the audience is already sat and listening. i'm obsessed.

SHAKIN OFF THE DUST

MYRTLE, ENSEMBLE (FEAT. TOM & NICK)

Another banger from MYRTLE and the wildly hardworking company, that’s only made better by the acting ability and the raw comedic and dramatic timing that Cory Jeacoma and Ben Levi Ross have as TOM and NICK. Taking place in MYRTLE’s apartment, Shakin Off The Dust gives a balance of a fun, party-like atmosphere that really showcases MYRTLE’s lust for life and desire to really live, which is core to her character, alongside the genuine emotions and motives behind the speakeasies and parties of the 1920s, which came from a desire to feel loose and free after the war and diseases that hurt the country, and also deeply hurt MYRTLE and the company characters like her, who desire to emulate the luxury and freedom of the upper classes. It’s much more emotionally raw than would be expected of the flashy costumes and lights, and the gaudy set, and provides insight into TOM and MYRTLE’s relationship and MYRTLE’s difficulties with her husband, family, and life that lead her to lead this affair. It also gives us canonically gay NICK, which I could never be mad at. Fantastic choreography as always, with a special solo given to a wildly talented dancer in the company, Chris Ralph who has delighted the audience both times I’ve seen the show in an incredibly unique way.

fun, flirty, and emotionally devastating. everything that i look for in a track, only made better by those performing, with phenomenal execution of the lyrics and choreography.

NEW YORK SYMPHONY

NICK, MYRTLE, DAISY, ENSEMBLE

This one took me a second to remember, but once I did, it was hard to forget. Taking place after TOM slaps MYRTLE, telling her that he would never truly marry her, and after NICK’s realization of queerness, New York Symphony is a song detailing the experiences of NICK, DAISY, & MYRTLE as people who have moved to New York in search of something, and emphasizes their similarities. It’s not a very memorable song, but I find it touching and a strong support for the overall story. Nothing too special, but still leaves a pretty hefty impact even with just a vague memory of the emotion it evoked.

a strong addition to the story and an interesting depiction of the similarities between multiple main characters, drawing connections that are crucial, or at least helpful, to the story.

ONE HEART BEAT

GATSBY, JORDAN, ENSEMBLE

One Heart Beat is our introduction to GATSBY’s parties, alongside the man himself, and it does a great job at utilizing the skills and talents of the cast alongside the fantastically designed set to create a dynamic and fun atmosphere. Great utilization of JORDAN’s character, which this production can occasionally lack, so that’s a major plus. Reminiscent of Shakin Off The Dust, and previous company numbers, One Heart Beat shows the party scene of New York and emphasizes the characters of both old money and new money who crowd together in GATSBY’s grand parties, but in a great contrast to the desperation of Shakin Off The Dust with the amount of opulence it shows. It’s a little bit of a drag, as I feel it’s a little longer than it needs to be, but overall a great track in vocals, score, and choreography, with amazing comedic moments and a great execution of NICK and GATSBY’s first meeting, and leads perfectly into the next track.

a great party song, with a fantastic showcase of skills from the company and the lead actors and actresses. faithful to the story and the ideas of gatsby’s parties, and just such a fun song, despite possibly overstaying it’s welcome.

DEATHLESS SONG

GATSBY (FEAT. DAISY)

Gonna be real with you guys, I don’t remember this song at all. From what I recall, it happens after GATSBY solidifies plans for lunch with NICK. The song itself contains GATSBY detailing the motives behind his parties, talking about scanning every face in the crowd, obviously looking for DAISY. Towards the end of the song, DAISY enters, standing in front of the green light prop that exists on House Right, but she’s more of a vision and GATSBY does the classic reach out to her from across the pond, which is referenced in the book and the musical. It’s not a bad song, from what I remember, just very forgettable, and it has the problem of existing after a very fast paced moment. Gatsby: An American Myth’s largest issue seems to be timing and placement of songs, and this is an example of it, because it is so easily forgotten in between those that come before and after it.

doesn’t feel fair to give this a review, but i’m gonna say it’s a little forgetable and boring, but absolutely something that would resonate with someone who is not me.

FEELS LIKE HELL

WOLFSHEIM, ENSEMBLE

We are so fucking back with this song. It’s incredible, and defies every stereotype of the “ boring old guy musical song that nobody likes,” by being just so well done. I could write a whole post on this song alone, but WOLFSHEIM as a character is just so monolithic, he takes up all the attention on stage, supported and only contested by GATSBY, who has incredibly unique blocking and choreography throughout the scene. In this song, WOLFSHEIM explains GATSBY’s rise to fortune through his help, and the idea of the American Dream in a way that feels so genuine and wildly inventive and creative. WOLFSHEIM manages to be such an amazing character, with so much personality and wit in ways that I don’t the book, the movie, or the other musical have managed to capture. While I will sing the praises of Adam Grupper all day, Isaac Powell’s performance as GATSBY is nothing to scoff at either, managing to transform himself from a young, naive man, to the GATSBY we know today, and doing so flawlessly. An amazing backstory song that blends rawness and wit into something spectacular.

fantastic addition to the musical, and a dynamic number that never gets old and one that you always look forward to, with especially amazing performances from all cast members involved. i have a feeling that this song will turn out to be wildly underrated when the cast recording releases, but trust me, it’s great.

A SMILE LIKE THAT IS RARE

NICK, JORDAN (?)

You may notice the question mark next to JORDAN. I can’t fully remember if she has a singing role in this song, or only a speaking role, but it doesn’t really change the overall song. It is, even if JORDAN also sings, largely a NICK solo, as he comments on GATSBY’s charm. The song details GATSBY’s smile, and how his genuine joy is rare for the circles both JORDAN and NICK find themselves in, and it’s the beginning of NICK’s understanding about who DAISY is to GATSBY, as this all comes after NICK’s agreement to stage a tea meeting for the aforementioned characters to come together, which is what GATSBY wants. It leads into a larger song, as NICK’s hesitance to set up the meeting is met with JORDAN’s reassurance that it may turn out well, as she remembers GATSBY for the radiant joy he had around DAISY, and their relationship. It’s a bit of a filler song, but it’s pretty, with lyrics that show an understanding of the characters in the story’s feelings and moves the plot along in a way that doesn’t feel too forced or too slow. It’s small, it’s cute, it’s there.

nothing too much to say. it’s a cute addition, and it does it’s job. it’s not anything special, but it’s well-written and well-performed, and has a very clean placement in the story itself.

MONTH OF LOVE

GATSBY, DAISY (FEAT. NICK & JORDAN)

Do I remember the lyrics? No. Do I remember how absolutely lovely this song was in essence and feeling? Yes! NICK and JORDAN watch on from a side of the stage as a young GATSBY and DAISY meet and fall in love, with JORDAN being implied to be telling their story to NICK. However, everyone other than DAISY and GATSBY seem to melt away during this song and the scenes within it, even if they’re still present on stage, which seems intentional and phenomenally done. DAISY and GATSBY pull the audience into their romance, with soft lyrics and a romantic backing to every word spoken and action taken, without it coming across too gaudy, fake, or unreliable to the book itself. This is a gorgeous song, and it really demonstrates the skills of the performers to be able to shift into their characters’ younger selves so well, with only a change in costume. A beautiful song, made even better by the tragedy you know will befall their romance.

dreamy, romantic, and gorgeous, everything gatsby and daisy remember their month together as seen from their and jordan’s memory. this number really makes us understand daisy and gatsby’s history in a way that wasn’t available before.

I’VE CHANGED MY MIND

DAISY, JORDAN, DAISY’S MOM (FEAT. GATSBY)

This song is so heartbreaking, it makes me physically ill. DAISY, on the day of her wedding to another man, receives a long-awaited letter from GATSBY, begging her to wait for him. So simple, yet so gut-wrenching, Daisy’s repeated lines of “I’ve changed my mind” show her youth and desperation so well, especially as her mother berates her and asks her to think of their good family name (“Love will fade, but our good name is forever.”) and the luxuries that DAISY has enjoyed her whole life. DAISY continues pleading, standing soaked in a bathtub (like, actually soaked), until the moment she is carried out and dragged to the wedding, and it’s such a deeply ruinous song that absolutely wrecks an audience. TOM is a looming, silent figure throughout this song, and JORDAN’s helpless worrying only adds to the desperation the song carries and the fear DAISY has, every element on stage working to make you see just how much DAISY is conflicted, scared, and naive. I’ve Changed My Mind shows the tragedy of The Great Gatsby that is always so delicious, and it’s nauseating how amazing this track is. The blocking, costuming, and subtle choices made (JORDAN picking up GATSBY’s letter from the bathtub where it dropped as DAISY gets carried away, before throwing it out, DAISY’s mother and JORDAN in black as though they are mourning) elevates this song to heights I’m obsessed with.

possibly one of my favorite songs of the show, with just phenomenal vocals, acting choices, blocking, and just everything that makes a song perfect. i’m obsessed with this track, and I think it’s a real showcase of the show at its best.

POURING DOWN

DAISY, GATSBY, NICK (KINDA), ENSEMBLE

I know I just spent 10 years absolutely showering I’ve Changed My Mind with praise, but Pouring Down manages to elevate to even higher heights as a track. At NICK’s house for tea, both GATSBY and DAISY are overwrought with stress and nerves, and are so awkward and tense they can find nothing to talk about but the stormy weather. It’s difficult to detail in words, because it sounds so simple, but the mixture of their voices and characters combine into something so awkwardly beautiful, emulating the true tense feelings behind reconnecting with an ex. The company aids in the vocals, especially later in the song as they move into GATSBY’s house, and NICK’s involvement in the scene is somehow both touching and incredibly comedic, adding some necessary levity without drawing too much focus to himself when unnecessary. It’s a beautiful, understated but near-perfectly constructed track, and I love it so dearly. Not to mention, the set design including led-lights that flash down in rain patterns during this scene has such visual appeal I can’t even find the right words to describe it.

a crucial addition, that shows both the comedic and tragic potential of the characters themselves, that adds such great character building and tension to the story that makes it absolutely delectable. it’s a treat for me, seeing and hearing this song. understated, simple, and yet so deeply complex and thought out, a real work of ART.

MR. NOBODY FROM NOWHERE

GATSBY, ENSEMBLE

BOOOO!!! Tomato, tomato. Okay, I joke, but in all seriousness, this song is GATSBY’s Golden Girl, if you know what I mean. It’s just so boring, especially as the Act One finale, and it’s just so disappointing because it’s obviously placed there so we can get a serious moment to end on, that centers around GATSBY himself, but it just lacks what the past two songs had and really dampers Act One’s momentum. I understand it’s neccessity, especially for setting up GATSBY’s character, and his relationship with the idea of being “nobody” and finally escaping that boudary with the love of DAISY as his crutch, because that is vital for later on, but I just find this style of ballad-esque solos very boring, basic, and uninspired, which is a shame for a show as dynamic and unique as Gatsby: An American Myth. It was okay, and it does something for GATSBY’s character, but that’s the best I can do.

again, we have another song who’s worst crime is being boring. it wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t follow multiple fantastic songs, but it does, and it��s rough. there’s not a better place to put it, and there’s no getting rid of it, so we’re stuck. still mildly disappointing, although i’m sure every high school theater boy just cheered for another audition song for them.

JUST A LITTLE PARTY

MYRTLE, ENSEMBLE

Starting off Act 2 with a quiet bang, Just a Little Party is a subtly sinister take on the party scene of 1920s New York, with “the help” at the center of the song. Highlighting the hauntedness of Gatsby's parties and the way the lower class workers are essentially invisible to the party-goers and work jobs that are completely unnoticed every night and every day, it's a dark, but incredibly captivating performance. MYRTLE’s appearance as a maid to contrast the life she wishes she had, as one being served rather than the one serving, is incredibly tragic and adds depth to her character. Her appearance in the song as a whole elevates it, and it's just such a fun way to get dragged back into the world of the show.

absolutely gorgeous re-entry to the world of gatsby: an american myth, that used the entire company to their best, and was just an amazing performance. 10/10, no notes, i’m in love.

WELCOME TO THE NEW WORLD (REPRISE)

GATSBY, DAISY, NICK, JORDAN, ENSEMBLE (FEAT. TOM AND MYRTLE)

DAISY’s introduction to the party world that GATSBY has created for her is within this song, and it is absolutely perfect. Before I write anything else, it’s important to know that NICK and JORDAN shine in this song, especially showing the way that NICK has evolved to mold seamlessly with the upper-echelon’s party mindset that he was once uncomfortable with. It’s such a gorgeous, fun reprise with just the right amount of sinister to remind us that GATSBY and DAISY are on borrowed time, with the threat of TOM right around the corner. Such a fun beat, and a great callback to the original song. All the characters, including MYRTLE and TOM who don’t have singing roles in this song, are utilized so well in both acting and vocal talent and skill.

so fun, so perfect, and an amazing reprise! more fun to watch then the original in my opinion, although the lyrics probably aren’t as strong, or at least don’t change much from the original.

DRIVING MY WAY

MYRTLE

This is MYRTLE incredibly ironic breakup song to TOM, although framing it that way doesn’t do her justice. Post-party, MYRTLE is incredibly frustrated with TOM, and I would describe this song as a type of angry, break-up letter to him, essentially telling him that one day, he will have lost her, and he won’t be able to drive her way anymore. It’s tragic in the context of the show, and that tragedy comes from the hope that it has as a standalone track, but it’s still incredibly powerful in the moment and represents something important for MYRTLE, and the shows overall themes and ideas. It’s a very powerful song, and while that really rests on the power of the performer, it’s just a fantastic track. The costuming of MYRTLE during this scene, in the maid dress she wore to the party, lends so much to the powerless feeling MYRTLE feels like she gains with TOM, and it gives the ending, where she clearly states her power over him, so much more punch than it would’ve otherwise.

overall, myrtle really isn’t in a single song that’s bad, especially not ones focused on her, and the stage presence that is both written into myrtle’s character, and executed flawlessly by the performers, only served to make this piece so much more emotionally fufilling and shattering for an audience.

WHAT IS THIS WORSHIP?

GATSBY, DAISY, NICK, ENSEMBLE

What Is This Worship is by far one of the most dreamy, romantic tracks in the entire score, with a slightly sinister undertone, and it’s no wonder that it comes in the seemingly blissful, but secretive, days of GATSBY and DAISY’s reigniting of their romance. The melody and music tell a far different story than the lyrics themselves though, with the music airy and cloudlike, like a fairytale, and the lyrics painting a picture of doomed devotion. According to the song, GATSBY falls into depression the moment DAISY leaves, and places his whole value on her presence, which shouldn’t need to be explained as unhealthy to be understood that way. The choreography shows they can never get their hands off of each other, with GATSBY especially clinging to DAISY and the lyrics reflect such desperation. It’s just such a gorgeous song, and everything about it reflects the love of DAISY and GATSBY without straying from the original themes and intentions behind their relationship, and the complexities with idealism and “the american dream” that litter the relationship as a whole.

showstopper, amazing, and steamy without being gaudy or graphic. one of my favorite portrayals of gatsby and daisy’s romances done, like, ever!

WHAT WILL WE DO WITH OURSELVES

GATSBY, DAISY, NICK, JORDAN, TOM, ENSEMBLE

shirts getting thrown off, daisy regrets, gatsby asks daisy to tell tom she never loved him

This song is so fucking long, and so fucking good. The whole song is just wrought with tension and stress and it genuinely made me almost claw into my seat, it was so nailbitingly good. Beginning in GATSBY’s home, with DAISY worrying about the past and how much time they’ve both lost, and what their future will look like together (“What will we do with ourselves / Today, and the next forty years”), the song immediately brings a sense of finality that we know is coming to the affair, highlighting DAISY’s insecurities and fears. However, they move on, with the song transitioning into DAISY and TOM’s home as DAISY and GATSBY prepare to tell TOM of the affair —with JORDAN and NICK being the unfortunate bystanders. This begins the “it’s too hot” repeated lyric, which shows the way that the environmental circumstances, along with the tension, are affecting everyone but TOM, unaware of the issue. Later on, TOM becomes more conscious of the affair when DAISY decides to drive with GATSBY, leading him to also remark on the heat later on. All in all, it’s a rich, tense piece of storytelling that relies on the actors’ abilities in the best possible way, highlighting all of the strengths of the amazing performances done.

stressful, nauseating, and just so deliciously good. a fire could’ve started during this song and i would’ve had no idea. i don’t really know how they’re going to split this song and what is this worship up, or how they’ll make it into the cast recording, but that doesn’t change the intense emotion raditating out of this song.

WHAT OF LOVE, WHAT OF GOD

MYRTLE, WILSON, ENSEMBLE

I NEED THIS SONG TATTOOED ON MY BRAIN. Anyway, this is my favorite song of the whole score. MYRTLE and WILSON are fascinating characters, and they’re love and dynamic is so stressful and so beautiful and so heartbreakingly, realistically tragic. WILSON’s desperation for MYRTLE to stay despite her affair is so clear in this song, alongside the clear anger and betrayal he feels for both himself, God, and his and MYRTLE’s deceased daughter. It’s genuinely so raw with emotion that it’s palpable, and MYRTLE doesn’t pull her punches either, with her clear exhaustion with WILSON’s excuses and her pessimism contrasting his optimism, which is a swap of their earlier roles in the story. The contrast between them is what really seals this, with WILSON (And what of love, and what of God?) and MYRTLE (Love will not save you here / ... / God will not save you here) showing clear the hopes that people had in America and how those hopes eventually are crushed. The shift in their personalities is evident too, and it’s just such a realistic depiction of the kinds of struggles they would face as fully fledged people, not characters. It’s so. Fucking. Good.

a really great song to pretend you’re fighting with someone to, if that makes sense. a really great song, period. i am getting a tattoo of these lyrics, and no one can stop me.

THE DREAM FOUGHT ON

DAISY, GATSBY (FT. TOM, MYRTLE, NICK, JORDAN, & ENSEMBLE)

DAISY is going to drive. That’s important for you to know. This is the scene, as in the scene where DAISY takes control of her life, for better or worse, removing herself from being the dream debutante, the dream wife, and then GATSBY’s American dream, and in doing so, taking back both control and the keys to the car from GATSBY. The Dream Fought On is about fighting for a dream, whether this be DAISY’s dream of breaking free from expectations, GATSBY’s dream of having DAISY, and MYRTLE’s dream of truly living, and finding a new life. This is where MYRTLE dies fighting for her dream, running in front of the car as DAISY drives, and the choreography and blocking of specifically this scene is phenomenal, along with the song’s blocking as a whole. While the song can be rather basic, and a pretty common and derivative take on the story, it’s still very well done, especially on stage, and especially with the acting of all those involved.

overall, it’s a great song that has the issue of a lot of acting moments around it, and being shelved in between multiple other far better songs, but still, it’s great. i feel like i’m forgetting something about it, but i’m fairly certain this is a reliable description.

THE DAMAGE THAT YOU DO

TOM, DAISY

If there were to be any song that beats out What of Love, What of God?, it would be this one. TOM and DAISY are such rancid people in this song, and it really highlights the ways TOM and DAISY behave similarly, which calls back to similar highlighting during Act Two’s opening that showed both DAISY and TOM’s affairs in the spotlight. It’s so good in ways I can’t describe, but it’s one of the other great argument songs on this track, and there’s a piece of lighting work I also really love in this song, where the spotlight kicks up from behind them and you can see dirt and blood on the bottom of both DAISY and TOM’s clothing, highlighting the blood and grime they both have on their hands and their consciousness, and how neither of them are clean people. I think it provides a lot of insight into why DAISY and TOM end up staying together.

VIGIL

GATSBY, NICK

GATSBY is going to take the fall for DAISY, and desperately wants NICK to validate this decision, which NICK struggles immensely in doing. This is, I believe, where NICK fully beings to understand the lengths that GATSBY has gone in only the pursuit of DAISY, how the entire empire he has built is for her, and how he will tear it all down for the chance of having her call, for the chance to protect her. This song, while sung by GATSBY and NICK, is more reminiscent of NICK’s point of view on GATSBY’s tragedy, rather than a real duet. NICK remarks that GATSBY is “standing vigil over nothing,” and when GATSBY asks NICK if he thinks DAISY will call, NICK decides to lie and say yes, despite his real beliefs. It’s a truly tragic song, if only in the sheer patheticness and desperation shown in GATSBY. I have, personally, never been one to dislike DAISY as much as many other readers of the book, but this song really hits hard, and really draws a lot of sympathy for GATSBY’s struggle and desperation for something, and someone, we all know isn’t coming.

it’s raw, it’s good, it’s tragic, and it’s all one big beautiful lie, and it’s just incredibly desperate and pathetic as a song, in the most loving, sympathetic way. it’s gonna be great, and people are going to love it.

AMERICA, SHE BREAKS

GATSBY, WILSON

Oh, I’m crazy. WILSON, similar to MYRTLE, is always going to be a smoking gun —see what I did there— of a character, bright and attention-grabbing and with such a loud but welcome stage presence. America, She Breaks is a perspective on the myth of the American dream from both GATSBY and WILSON’s perspective, as they lament on what the pursuit of this dream has lost them. This song genuinely leaves me speechless, a heavy tension and desperation running through the entire thing until the death of GATSBY and WILSON by WILSON’s own hand and handgun. It’s, strangely, a magical experience of a song, with it being wildly captivating and attention-holding. It’s a fantastic commentary on the themes of the show, and genuinely could’ve been a great ending to the show that wraps up the story and the themes, although it would leave parts of the book’s ending out. It’s just such a solid and genuine performance, and it always leaves the audience gasping.

this song drives me crazy. i am crazy.

POURING DOWN (REPRISE)

NICK, JORDAN, GATSBY’S FATHER, COMPANY

This is where, ideally, the show would’ve ended if it didn’t end after America, She Breaks. The inclusion of GATSBY’s funeral, and the few mourners, alongside NICK and GATSBY’s father is well-done, and I absolutely adore GATSBY’s father being Native-American, which adds a whole new level to GATSBY’s character and desire to fit into the 1920s American dream. I’m not well-versed enough to speak on the representation, but I do think the idea of GATSBY being Native-American adds a lot to the story and adds complex, and interesting dynamics and themes to the overall script. I think this song specifically being a reprise of Pouring Down works well, and I think it’s an emotionally fitting ending to the show.

emotionally fitting, a perfect mourning song, and a lovely and well-done reprise. incredibly solid as both a standalone song and a closing to the score and story as a whole.

BEFORE I GET INTO THE LAST SONG... I want to say that there are two places this show could’ve ended after this that I would’ve been happy with.

After NICK mentions to GATSBY’s father that DAISY didn’t even send flowers, GATSBY's father asks NICK who DAISY is. This works as a tragic ending, as it shows that GATSBY’s pursuits were largely for nothing, and no one will ever truly remember or understand the lengths that he went to for DAISY, along with being tragic due to the reminder that DAISY was not all that important to anyone else, and that she was only a dream of GATSBY’s, and not nearly as lifechanging for others. It just ties up DAISY and GATSBY’s relationship in a tragic little bow that I think works

And I would prefer this. NICK and WOLFSHEIM have a conversation about GATSBY after WOLFSHEIM doesn’t attend GATSBY’s funeral, that generally goes with NICK saying that GATSBY should’ve meant enough to WOLFSHEIM that he be bothered to go to the funeral, and WOLFSHEIM saying that GATSBY meant everything to him. WOLFSHEIM’s monologue ends with him saying that “[GATSBY] was a beautiful fool” and I think this makes for a good ending.

I’m sure there are other places that would make for a good ending, but not the one I’m about to tell you.

WE BEAT ON

FULL COMPANY

I hate it. I’m sorry, I hate it so much. We did not need a full company number at the end, it really just ruined it. It sucks so bad, I’m so sorry. I’m sure there’s a good reason to have it, maybe, probably, but my idea is that reason was just that they wanted the whole company on stage for bows, which is not a good enough reason to have this number included. It’s a boring song, with boring choreography, and I don’t think it serves a good enough purpose, or emphasizes the message of the show in any way. I believe that this song was only included to have the entire company onstage at the end of the show to prep the stage for bows, and nothing else. Sorry, but not really.

i’m a d1 hater of this song, and will be pretending it doesn’t exist.

so, that’s the scoop!

if you enjoyed this review, let me know. if you didn’t, that’s too bad, sorry about that. please follow me for more content, and feel free to ask me any more questions about this show, my experience with it, or content in general! i’m always down to chat, and i’m open to reviewing more scores, soundtracks, and/or albums! all the love, all the kisses, and have a fantastic day or night, wherever you are.

8.12.2024🍨 eleanor

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