#jai buchanan
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Bend over come ride me like ya rover 🫦
IG - pbandjai
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came to me in a dream
#is there anyone who likes men#jay gatsby#daisy buchanan#jordan baker#nick carraway#the great gatsby#the great gatsby (2013)
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𝓢AFE IN 𝓨OUR 𝓐RMS !
pairing : bucky barnes x fem!reader warnings : angst, hurt / comfort, heavy insecurities, reader lowk takes a beating, kidnapping, fluff, reader’s insecurities stem from natasha, happy ending wc : 4.9k a/n : writing this felt like a fever dream i’ve literally never written anything so quick
you tried not to think about it too much, really, you did. but it was hard not to notice the way natasha lit up a room just by walking into it, the effortless confidence she wore like a second skin. she was a force of nature, all sharp edges and deadly grace, the kind of woman who turned heads wherever she went. and then there was you - stumbling over your words, always feeling like you were playing catch-up, never quite able to shake the feeling that you were a few steps behind everyone else.
natasha was everything you weren’t, and on some days, it felt like she was everything bucky could ever want. they had a bond that went back decades, something forged in blood and shadows, a history that was impossible to compete with. you knew they were just friends, but that didn’t stop the creeping insecurities that gnawed at you whenever you saw them together. the way bucky would smile, a rare, genuine smile, when she cracked a joke, or the way he’d lean in close to whisper something that made her laugh.
you tried to tell yourself it didn’t matter. after all, bucky was with you, not her. he chose you. but there were days when that choice felt like a fluke, like you were just a placeholder for someone better. it didn’t help that natasha seemed to be everywhere - on missions, during training sessions, even at casual gatherings at the compound. she was a constant reminder of everything you felt you could never be.
and bucky, sweet as he was, had no idea. he was the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve, at least when it came to you. he was always looking out for you, making sure you were okay, doing his best to squash any fears you had before they could take root.
“hey, stop that,” he’d say whenever he caught you staring at your reflection, tugging at your clothes like you could somehow reshape yourself into someone you weren’t. he’d come up behind you, wrapping those strong arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “you’re perfect. just as you are.”
and for a while, you’d believe him. it was hard not to when he was looking at you like you hung the moon, like you were the only thing in his world that made sense. he’d pepper kisses along your jawline, whispering sweet nothings until you were giggling and squirming in his hold, your insecurities momentarily forgotten.
but lately, those moments were fewer and farther between. bucky was busy, always being pulled in a dozen different directions with missions and briefings and god knows what else. you tried to be understanding, tried not to let it bother you when he’d come home late, exhausted and distracted, his mind still miles away even when he was sitting right next to you.
“sorry, doll,” he’d mutter, brushing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the shower or falling face-first into bed. “it’s just been a long day.”
you knew it wasn’t his fault. he was doing his best, trying to balance everything. but it was hard not to feel like you were slipping through the cracks, like you were becoming an afterthought in his increasingly chaotic life. the doubts, once small and manageable, were growing louder, harder to ignore.
and then there were the whispers.
it started small, just the occasional passing comment from the other agents - “nat and bucky make such a great team” or “you know, they’ve got years of history together.” you’d laugh it off, forcing a smile even as your heart twisted painfully in your chest.
but it was hard to keep the smile in place when you overheard the hushed conversations in the hallways, the ones that stopped abruptly whenever you walked by.
“i’m just saying, if i had to choose between her and natasha…”
“oh, come on, it’s not even a contest.”
“poor girl. she doesn’t stand a chance.”
you knew it was petty, letting other people’s opinions get to you. but it was like a thousand tiny cuts, each one adding to the weight already pressing down on you. you tried to talk to bucky about it once, stumbling over your words, trying to explain how you felt without sounding like you were accusing him of anything.
“it’s just… sometimes i feel like i’m not enough,” you’d confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “like you could do better. like you deserve someone who - ”
“hey, hey, stop that,” he cut you off, his hands coming up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing away the tears you hadn’t realised were falling. “you’re more than enough, baby. you’re everything to me, okay? don’t you dare think otherwise.”
and for a moment, it helped. the way he looked at you, eyes so full of love and sincerity, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you were worth it. but the doubts never truly went away. they were always there, lurking in the back of your mind, waiting for the next opportunity to rear their ugly heads.
the breaking point came one night after a mission. it was supposed to be a simple extraction, but things went sideways, leaving bucky and natasha stuck behind enemy lines for days. no communication, no updates - just radio silence that left you pacing the floors of your apartment, sick with worry.
when they finally made it back, bruised and exhausted but alive, you’d barely been able to hold back your tears. you’d thrown yourself into bucky’s arms, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.
“i’m okay, doll. we’re okay,” he kept repeating, but you couldn’t shake the image of him and natasha, side by side, fighting their way out of whatever hellhole they’d been trapped in. they made the perfect team, a well-oiled machine, and where did that leave you?
the insecurities you’d tried so hard to bury came rushing back, stronger than ever. and this time, they brought friends - ugly, vicious thoughts that whispered cruel things in the dead of night.
what if he only stayed with you out of pity? what if he wished you were more like her? what if, deep down, he regretted choosing you?
you did your best to hide it, plastering on a smile whenever bucky was around. but he could tell something was off, even if he didn’t quite know what. he tried to coax it out of you, tried to make you laugh, but it was like a wall had gone up between you, one you couldn’t seem to break down.
“are you okay?” he asked one night, his voice tinged with that soft concern that always made your heart ache. “you’ve been… distant lately.”
“i’m fine, buck.” you lied, avoiding his gaze. “just tired.”
“you’ve been tired a lot lately,” he pointed out, his brow furrowing. “you know you can talk to me, right?”
“yeah, i know,” you muttered, forcing a smile. “i’m good, buck. promise.”
he didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms. you curled into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, but it did little to soothe the storm raging inside you.
you wanted to tell him, to pour out all the fears that were eating you alive. but what good would it do? it would only make you seem clingy, needy, and the last thing you wanted was to drive him away.
so you kept it all locked up, burying the insecurities deeper until they were practically choking you. and that’s when the nightmares started - vivid, gut-wrenching dreams of bucky walking away, of him choosing natasha over you, leaving you in the dust without a second glance.
you’d wake up gasping, tears streaming down your face, but you never told him. you couldn’t bear the thought of him thinking you were weak, that you were doubting him.
but the cracks were starting to show, no matter how hard you tried to hide them. bucky could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, but he didn’t know how to fix it. he just held you tighter, kissed you longer, hoping it would be enough to chase away whatever demons were haunting you.
but it wasn’t enough. not this time.
it happened on a friday, the kind of day that started off unremarkable and ended with everything falling apart. you’d been looking forward to a quiet evening at home, maybe ordering takeout and curling up with a good book while waiting for bucky to come back from his latest mission. he’d promised it was a quick one, nothing too dangerous, just an intel-gathering job that would have him back before midnight.
you should have known better. things rarely went according to plan when it came to the avengers’ line of work. but you’d let yourself relax, lulled into a false sense of security by the thought of a quiet night in. you were in the middle of deciding between thai or pizza when it all went wrong.
the first sign was the knock at your door. you weren’t expecting anyone, but you figured it might be one of the neighbors, maybe asking to borrow something or returning the package that got delivered to their apartment by mistake. you didn’t think twice before unlocking it, didn’t even look through the peephole.
big mistake.
the door burst open, slamming into you with enough force to knock the breath from your lungs. you stumbled back, dazed, and that’s when you saw them - three men, all dressed in black tactical gear, their faces hidden behind masks. panic flared in your chest, but before you could even think to scream, one of them was on you, clamping a hand over your mouth while the other pinned your arms to your sides.
you fought, kicking and writhing, but it was no use. they were bigger, stronger, and they had the element of surprise on their side. something cold and metal pressed against your neck - a needle. you barely registered the sting before everything went dark.
when you came to, your head was pounding, your mouth dry as sandpaper. it took a moment for the world to come into focus, and when it did, you wished it hadn’t. you were in a dimly lit room, concrete walls and a single flickering bulb overhead. the air was damp and musty, the scent of mildew making your stomach churn.
your wrists were bound behind you, ropes digging into your skin, and your ankles were similarly tied to the legs of the chair you were sitting in. every part of you ached, from the bruises forming on your ribs to the throbbing in your temples. you blinked against the haze, trying to remember how you’d gotten here, but it all came flooding back in bits and pieces - the masked men, the needle, the suffocating darkness.
“look who’s finally awake.”
the voice was cold, mocking, and it sent a shiver down your spine. you turned your head to see one of your captors leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest. he was tall, built like a tank, with a scar running down the side of his face. behind him, another man paced back and forth, the metallic clink of his boots echoing in the small space.
“who are you?” you managed to croak out, your throat raw.
the man ignored your question, pushing off the wall and sauntering over to you. “you know, this could’ve been a lot easier,” he said, crouching down so he was eye level with you. “we didn’t want to take you. we were after someone else. but i guess you’ll have to do.”
your heart skipped a beat. “what are you talking about?”
“we wanted the winter soldier,” he replied, his grin widening. “but he’s gotten soft. too many friends, too many ties. makes it hard to get to him. so we figured, why not take someone he cares about? see if that old killer instinct kicks back in.”
fear lanced through you, sharp and sudden. they were using you as bait. your mind raced, a thousand horrible scenarios flashing before your eyes. bucky would come for you, of course he would. but the thought of him turning back into the winter soldier, of all that progress undone because of you - it was almost too much to bear.
“he won’t come,” you said, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. “you’re wasting your time.”
but the man just laughed, like you’d told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “oh, sweetheart, i think we both know that’s not true. but just in case… let’s give him a little motivation.”
without warning, he swung his fist into your side, hard enough to knock the wind out of you. pain exploded in your ribs, and you bit down on your lip to stifle a cry. you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. but the hits kept coming, each one worse than the last, until you were gasping for breath, stars dancing in your vision.
“you really think he cares?” the other man sneered, circling you like a predator. “if he did, he’d be here by now. maybe we should’ve taken the black widow instead. bet he’d come running for her.”
the words cut deep, reopening the wounds you’d tried so hard to close. you knew it was a lie, just another tactic to break you, but it still stung. the doubts you’d buried resurfaced, louder and crueller than ever. what if they were right? what if bucky didn’t care as much as you thought? what if he was already too late?
you closed your eyes, trying to block out their taunts, but the darkness was worse. it was like being trapped in your own mind, the insecurities feeding off the pain, growing stronger with every second that ticked by.
“face it,” the man whispered in your ear, his breath hot and rancid. “you’re just a means to an end. he’s not coming for you. no one is.”
meanwhile, miles away, bucky was losing his mind. he’d known something was wrong the moment he’d come back to the apartment and found the door ajar, the lock busted. his heart had dropped into his stomach, a cold dread settling over him as he stepped inside, calling your name.
but there was no answer, just the eerie silence of an empty home. the place was in disarray - furniture overturned, shards of glass scattered across the floor, the faint scent of gunpowder lingering in the air. and then he saw it: your phone, discarded on the ground, the screen cracked.
“no, no, no,” he muttered, a sense of panic clawing at his throat. he’d grabbed the device, trying to call you, but it went straight to voicemail. every second that passed felt like an eternity, the fear tightening around his chest like a vise.
he didn’t waste any time. within minutes, he was on the phone with sam, his voice raw and desperate as he explained what had happened. “she’s gone, sam. they took her.”
“we’ll find her, buck,” sam had promised, his tone steady even as tension crept in. “we’ll get her back.”
but bucky was already on the move, the old instincts kicking in as he pulled every string, called in every favour he had. he tore through the city like a man possessed, following every lead, every whisper, but it was like chasing shadows.
“dammit!” he snarled, slamming his fist into the dashboard of his car, the metal denting under the force. he could feel himself slipping, the old rage bubbling up, threatening to consume him. but he couldn’t afford to lose control. not now. not when you were counting on him.
he had to find you. he had to get to you before it was too late.
you didn’t know how long you’d been there, time blurring into a painful haze of darkness and agony. every inch of you hurt, from the bruises blooming across your skin to the raw, chafed skin around your wrists where you’d tried to pull free. the taunts never stopped, a constant barrage of words designed to break you down, to make you doubt everything.
“he’s forgotten about you,” one of the men said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “he’s probably with the redhead right now. why would he bother with damaged goods like you?”
you were so tired, so damn tired. every bone in your body ached, and it was getting harder to stay awake, to keep fighting. but you couldn’t give up, not yet. because somewhere, deep down, you still believed in him. you still believed he’d come.
and then, just when you were starting to think you’d never see him again, you heard it - a distant crash, followed by the unmistakable sound of gunfire. hope, fragile and fleeting, sparked in your chest. you struggled to lift your head, blinking against the pain.
“bucky…?”
the world around you was a blur of pain and exhaustion, your captors’ cruel words echoing in your mind like a broken record. the room was spinning, the edges of your vision growing dark as your strength waned. you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on, the fight draining out of you with each passing second.
but then - there was a sound. faint at first, barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears, but it grew louder, more distinct. the unmistakable roar of gunfire, the heavy thud of boots against concrete. something inside you stirred, a flicker of hope that you hadn’t felt in what felt like a lifetime.
“bucky…” you whispered, the name slipping from your cracked lips like a prayer.
the door to the room you were trapped in exploded inward with a deafening crash, sending shards of wood flying. you flinched, your heart lurching in your chest, but then you saw him - bucky barnes, standing there like an angel, his face a mask of fury.
his blue eyes were wild, searching, locking onto yours the moment he saw you slumped in the chair. “baby,” he breathed, his voice breaking on the single word. he was at your side in an instant, his metal arm slicing through the ropes that bound you, freeing you from your restraints.
you tried to speak, tried to reach out to him, but your body was too weak, too battered. your vision blurred, and you swayed, only for bucky to catch you, pulling you into his arms with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the violence still crackling in the air around him.
“i’m here, i’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. he cradled your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over the bruise blooming on your cheek, his touch achingly tender. “look at me, sweetheart. open those pretty eyes for me, okay?”
you tried, but everything hurt. every inch of you was screaming in pain, your body barely holding itself together after the relentless beating you’d endured.
“they - they said…” you choked out, tears spilling down your cheeks. “they said you wouldn’t come… that you’d never come for me like you would for natasha.”
the words shattered something in bucky, his jaw clenching, his eyes darkening with a pain that matched your own. “don’t you ever think that,” he said fiercely, his voice a low growl. “you are everything to me. no one - no one - comes close to what you mean to me.”
you wanted to believe him, but the doubts still lingered, the echoes of your captors’ taunts ringing in your ears. they’d broken something inside you, something that bucky was desperately trying to piece back together with every gentle touch, every whispered word.
he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i was tearing this city apart looking for you. i’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby.”
but there was no more time for words, not when the sound of approaching footsteps signalled the arrival of more enemies. bucky’s eyes hardened, the winter soldier slipping into place as he gently laid you down on the floor, his touch lingering as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.
“stay here, okay? just for a minute,” he said, his voice steady now, controlled. “i’m gonna take care of this.”
you nodded weakly, your body trembling as you watched him stand, turning to face the oncoming threat. he was a force of nature, moving with a deadly grace that took your breath away, every movement precise and lethal.
you tried to stay awake, tried to focus on the sight of him, but your body was shutting down, the pain too much to bear. you could hear the sounds of battle, the screams and gunfire, but it all felt distant, like a dream you couldn’t quite grasp.
when you came to again, it was quiet. the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like the world was holding its breath. you blinked, your vision clearing slowly, and the first thing you saw was bucky kneeling beside you, his face streaked with blood and sweat.
“you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice soft, soothing. “you’re safe now.”
you tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness hit you, and bucky was there, his arms steady around you, holding you close. “easy, easy,” he said, his hand gently brushing through your hair. “i’ve got you.”
you leaned into him, your body shaking, and for a moment, all you could do was breathe him in, the familiar scent of leather and metal grounding you in a way nothing else could.
“you came for me,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.
“of course i did,” he said, his voice fierce and raw. “i’ll always come for you.”
but even as he held you, you couldn’t shake the lingering doubts, the fears that had taken root deep inside you. “why?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. “why would you… when you could have natasha? she’s… she’s perfect, bucky. she’s everything i’m not.”
his grip tightened on you, his hands trembling slightly. “don’t say that,” he said, his voice low and desperate. “you’re not a consolation prize. you’re not second to anyone. nat’s a good friend, but she’s not you. no one could ever be you.”
the tears came then, hot and fast, and you couldn’t stop them, couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that had been building inside you for what felt like forever. bucky held you through it, his arms strong and steady, his whispers a lifeline in the darkness.
“i’m sorry,” you sobbed, your hands clutching at his shirt, desperate for something solid, something real. “i’m so sorry, bucky.”
he shook his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your temple, your cheek, like he couldn’t stop himself. “no, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “i’m the one who’s sorry. i should have done more to make you feel safe, to make you feel loved.”
you pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him, to really see him, and what you saw there took your breath away. it was love, pure and unfiltered, shining in his blue eyes, his gaze locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered.
“you… you really mean that?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
“damn right, i do,” he said, his lips curving into a small, soft smile. “you’re everything to me. nothing and no one could ever change that.”
he kissed you then, slow and gentle, like he was trying to pour every unspoken word, every promise, into that kiss. and for the first time in what felt like forever, the doubts started to fade, the fears quieting into nothingness.
bucky didn’t leave your side after that, not even for a moment. he carried you out of that hellhole, his arms strong and sure around you, and when you were finally safe, finally back in the comfort of your shared apartment, he stayed with you, tending to your wounds with a tenderness that made your heart ache.
“i’m not letting you out of my sight again,” he said, his voice low and fierce as he wrapped a bandage around your wrist. “not ever.”
“i think i’d be okay with that,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.
he looked up at you then, his eyes softening, and for the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth, of hope. “i love you,” he said, the words slipping out like a confession, like something he’d been holding back for far too long.
your breath hitched, tears welling in your eyes. “i love you too, bucky,” you whispered, reaching out to cup his cheek. “i always have.”
he kissed you again, soft and sweet, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was okay. because you had him, and he had you, and that was all that mattered.
🌀 two weeks later…
the rain outside was a gentle lull, a soft patter against the windows that filled the quiet of your shared bedroom. the storm had come out of nowhere, blanketing the city in a soft gray, but inside, wrapped up in bucky's arms, everything was warm and bright.
you were lying on his chest, your fingers tracing absent patterns over the smooth lines of his metal arm, marvelling at the way it glinted even in the dim light. his other arm was draped over your waist, holding you close, like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go even for a second.
“you know,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest, “i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of this.”
“tired of what?” you asked, your voice soft, a little teasing.
“this,” he said, squeezing you just a bit tighter. “having you here. being able to hold you like this.”
a smile tugged at your lips, a warmth spreading through your chest that had nothing to do with the blankets cocooning you both. it was moments like this, the simple, quiet ones, that made all the darkness, all the doubts, feel like a distant memory.
“i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of it either,” you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze.
his eyes were that perfect shade of blue, soft and warm as they watched you, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “good,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”
you laughed, a light, breathy sound that made his smile widen, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your heart so full it felt like it might burst.
there had been a time, not so long ago, when you would have doubted this, doubted him. when you would have let the fears, the insecurities, creep in and convince you that this, that he, was too good to be true. but now, lying here in his arms, it all felt so silly, so far away.
“you know,” you said softly, your fingers still tracing those gentle patterns on his arm, “i used to wonder… why you’d want me. i used to think i wasn’t enough.”
his brow furrowed, the faintest hint of sadness clouding his eyes. “don’t ever think that,” he said, his voice low and serious. “you’re more than enough for me, doll. you’re everything.”
you felt your cheeks heat up at his words, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “i believe you,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him, soft and slow.
he sighed into the kiss, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, holding you there like he never wanted to let go. when you finally pulled away, he was looking at you with that same look he always did, like you were the most precious thing in his world.
“i’m glad you do,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “because i’m gonna spend every day proving it to you.”
“you already have,” you said, resting your forehead against his. “you always do.”
he hummed, a soft, content sound, and then he was rolling over, pulling you with him so that you were both lying on your sides, face to face.
“good,” he said, his voice a low whisper in the quiet room. “because i’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. you’re stuck with me.”
you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up at that, your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “sounds like a dream come true,” you teased, your smile widening when he leaned in to steal another kiss.
“damn right, it is,” he said, his eyes twinkling with that playful light you loved so much.
and as he held you there, the storm raging outside but nothing but warmth and love between you, you knew that he meant it. all those old fears, those insecurities - they were nothing compared to the love he showed you, every single day, in every single way.
because this was real, he was real, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.
🌀 bucky barnes : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid
@yvespecially
taglist form linked in pinned post :3
#jay writes!#bucky barnes🎀#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#winter soldier#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes masterlist#bucky barnes x you#captain america#the winter soldier#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan masterlist
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Is the Gatsby musical an accurate retelling of the original novel? No.
Does it romanticize the fuck out of Gatsby and Daisy? Yes.
Is the idea of the green light being a metaphor for romantic love entirely missing the point? Yes.
Is it a really, really fun time with gorgeous music, beautiful visuals, and a wildly talented cast? You're goddamn right
#eva noblezada#jeremy jordan#the great gatsby#great gatsby#great gatsby musical#the great gatsby musical#broadway#theatre#theater#musicals#musical theater#musical theatre#jeremy johnson#jay gatsby#daisy buchanan#also despite the fact it gets a lot wrong as far as themes of the original novel goes#beautiful little fool is on point#like they NAILED that
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there is something deeply wrong with nick carraway in gatsby. motherfucker has been disassocating probably since the end of the war. he watches a marriage almost implode in front of him and in the stunned silence afterwards tells the awful husband, "oh yeah i just remembered today's my birthday"
i dont think casual and high school level discussions focus on how deeply weird nick must be in person and how that affects scenes? i vaguely remember analyses usually focusing on daisy and tom and gatsby but they all use nick as a barely functioning soundboard for horrible behavior and when he doesn't say anything are probably thinking "well nick seems so chill he would stop me if this was Truly Weird" and nick is meanwhile staring off into the distance thinking about what he ate last tuesday and that green eyed bilboard
edit: right and the accident literally happens next page so the weirdness of nick is probably skipped over by most readers
#nick carraway#the great gatsby#f scott fitzgerald#daisy buchanan#tom buchanan#jay gatsby#books#literature
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I wasn't actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity.
The Great Gatsby | directed by Baz Luhrmann, 2013
#the great gatsby#tggedit#motionpicturesource#paleresources#userthing#usertvfilm#mediagifs#paleresource#filmedit#perioddramaedit#perioddramasource#perioddramagif#nick carraway#daisy buchanan#jay gatsby#mine#*gifs#movie
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society if jay gatsby fell in love with nick carraway :
#jay gatsby#nick carraway#the great#the great gatsby#f. scott fitzgerald#daisy buchanan#tom buchanan#jay gatsby x nick carraway#yaoi solves everything#classic l#books#leo#natsby
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i’m sure i’m not the first to say something like this, but let me tell you about my poc-passing-as-white jay gatsby headcanon!!
for some background, in the 1920s there was an interesting shift regarding (white) skin tones. previously, tans were viewed as a sign that a person worked out in the fields, and therefore a trademark of the lower class. however, slowly after the industrial revolution, it increasingly became a representation of luxury, since the rich upper class would have the time to lounge about and sunbathe at their leisure.
i say all this to show that a poc gatsby would have the ostensible class and wealth for a tan, which would ‘excuse’ a slightly browner skin tone in the public eye.
(the 20s was also the setting of passing by nella larsen, so that’s neat.)
in my vision, he’s biracial (maybe his mother was black & his father was a german immigrant) with skin light enough to pass for white.
the fact that nick states that gatsby keeps his hair neatly groomed and cut might be to prevent it from curling up.
additionally, i think it could contrast tom’s white supremacy & his fear of poc social progress.
it would also create a deeper divide between gatsby and daisy, and once again the contrast between him and tom. in my mind, daisy wouldn’t know about it until the point where tom reveals everything about gatsby’s bootlegging etc. with jay revealing it to her in the car ride back (oops then she hits myrtle).
then, when she chooses tom and the life of comfort, wealth, status, etc that their marriage offers, she also rejects not only gatsby’s new money but also his race.
it’s a lot more thematically significant for the american dream as well—it’s still unattainable and essentially tainted by capitalism, and it also emphasizes that it’s restricted to the white upper class. social mobility only becomes available to gatsby when he disguises his racial identity.
similarly, it fits with gatsby’s identity reconstruction—the quintessential american is white, rich, and educated.
daisy and tom have that ticket into society because they have that inherent thing that he will never have—pedigree, in both class and race. that’s something that even nick has.
(in my mind, he tells nick all about it the night before he dies & nick understands as best he can and doesn’t think less of him, because it further highlights the differences between his & gatsby’s relationship v. gatsby’s relationship with daisy; namely, the transparency -> acceptance give-and-take that he and daisy never had. because of having to hide himself from daisy in order to maintain her affection, he builds an expectation that he must be someone that he is not as well as developing a transactional definition of love (he gives, and people love him as long as he can continue to give) in order to be loved. therefore, nick’s immediate curiosity and fascination with who he truly is is foreign to him. not to get too into their dynamic lmao i just think it’s really interesting.)
finally, the very last part where nick is sitting and looking at the bay and thinking about the first immigrants and their dreams and how gatsby embodied the purity and naivety of those dreams is further exemplified by his racial ‘otherness.’
and there’s,,, technically nothing in the book to explicitly refute this from what i remember!
(n.b.: it has been a hot second since i’ve read tgg, so lmk if i’ve got anything wrong!)
#the great gatsby#f scott fitzgerald#jay gatsby#nick carraway#daisy buchanan#tom buchanan#natsby#1920s#poc gatsby#poc representation#headcanon#passing#american dream#american literature#analysis#literary analysis#tgg#long post#discussion of race#val talks
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Jay Buchanan Jr.
#jay buchanan#menstyle#beautiful black man#black men#black man#moda masculina#male beauty#men worth your time#mensfashion#menswear#male model#mens style
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um. yeah. this is how i draw the characters from The Great Gatsby....
#the great gatsby#character design#ref sheet#nick carraway#jay gatsby#daisy buchanan#jordan baker#daiwild
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Hi I’m Jordan and this is my boyfriend Nick and this is Nick’s boyfriend Jay and this is Jay’s girlfriend Daisy and this is Daisy’s husband Tom and this is Tom’s girlfriend Myrtle and this is Myrtle’s husband George
#bookblr#the great gatsby#jordan baker#nick carraway#jay gatsby#daisy buchanan#tom buchanan#myrtle wilson#george wilson
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Must be nice 🙄
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💭 thinking about…
𝖻𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗍!
pairing : bucky barnes x fem!reader warnings : angst, fluff, hurt / comfort, wc : 1k
bucky’s been quiet lately, too quiet. it’s the kind of silence that makes your heart ache, like a distant thunderstorm you can feel in your bones. he sits on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. his hair falls over his eyes, hiding the turmoil in them, but you know it’s there. you can feel it in the air between you, thick and suffocating.
he’s always been good at hiding his pain, but lately, it’s been slipping through the cracks. you’ve noticed the way his hands tremble slightly when he thinks you’re not looking, the way he’s been avoiding eye contact, the way his smile never quite reaches his eyes anymore. it’s like he’s carrying something inside him that’s too heavy to bear, and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out.
“bucky,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s heard you. it’s like he’s in another world, a place where you can’t reach him.
you take a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. you want to reach out, to touch him, to pull him into your arms and hold him until all his broken pieces fit back together. but you’re afraid. afraid that he’ll pull away, afraid that he’ll shut you out even more.
“james,” you try again, using his real name this time, the one that feels more intimate, more personal. it’s the name you use when you want to remind him that he’s more than just a weapon, more than just a tool. that he’s human, and he’s loved.
his shoulders tense at the sound of his name, but he still doesn’t look at you. you can see the struggle in him, the way he’s fighting to keep everything bottled up inside. he’s always been like this, always trying to be strong, to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders without asking for help.
but you can’t stand to see him like this, can’t stand the thought of him suffering in silence. you reach out, your hand trembling slightly as you place it gently on his arm. his skin is cold, and you can feel the tension in his muscles, like he’s ready to bolt at any moment.
“bucky, please,” you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. “talk to me. let me in.”
for a moment, you think he’s going to pull away, to retreat back into himself like he always does. but then, slowly, he turns his head to look at you. his eyes are filled with so much pain, so much sorrow, that it takes your breath away.
“i don’t know how,” he says, his voice rough and broken. “i don’t know how to do this. how to be…normal. how to ask for what i need.”
your heart breaks for him, for the boy who was taken and turned into something he was never meant to be, for the man who’s spent his life fighting to survive, to make up for the things he’s done. you slide your hand down his arm, intertwining your fingers with his. he hesitates for a moment before squeezing your hand, like he’s afraid to hold on too tightly, afraid that he’ll break you, too.
“you don’t have to do it alone,” you say, your voice soft but firm. “you don’t have to be strong all the time. it’s okay to ask for help, to let someone else carry the weight for a while.”
he shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “i don’t know how to ask for that. i don’t even know what i need. i just…i just feel so lost sometimes.”
you move closer, until your knees are touching his. you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath. you want to wrap yourself around him, to shield him from the world, but you know that’s not what he needs right now. what he needs is to know that he’s not alone, that he’s not a burden, that he’s loved.
“that’s okay baby,” you say, your voice gentle. “it’s okay to not have all the answers. we can figure that out together.”
his grip on your hand tightens, and you can see the struggle in his eyes, the way he’s fighting to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill over. he’s always been so strong, so determined to keep his emotions in check, but you can see that it’s breaking him, that he’s reaching his limit.
“i don’t want to be a burden,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “i don’t want to drag you down with me.”
“oh my god… buck, you could never be a burden,” you reply, your voice filled with conviction. “i’m here because i want to be, because i care about you. we’re in this together, bucky. whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to go through it alone.”
his breath hitches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull away again. but then, slowly, he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder. you can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself so tightly, like he’s afraid to let go. but you don’t push him, don’t rush him. you just hold him, your hand gently stroking his back, offering him the comfort he so desperately needs.
“it’s okay,” you murmur, your lips brushing against his hair. “you don’t have to figure it all out right now. just take it one step at a time. and remember, i’m here with you. you’re not alone, bucky. you’re never alone.”
he doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the way his body relaxes against yours, the way his breathing starts to even out. it’s not a solution, not a fix, but it’s a start. it’s a step forward, a small step, but a step nonetheless.
and as you sit there, holding him close, you know that no matter how long it takes, no matter how hard the road ahead may be, you’ll be there with him, every step of the way. because you love him, and that’s all that matters.
#jay writes!#bucky barnes🎀#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes#winter solider x y/n#winter solider x reader#bucky barnes x reader#winter soldier#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes smut#james barnes x you#steve rogers#james barnes x reader#the winter soldier#james buchanan barnes#steve rogers x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#tfatws#marvel cinematic universe#marvel mcu#marvel movies#marvel x reader#marvel comics#marvel smut#mcu#marvel#deadpool and wolverine
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I THOUGHT YOU WERE RATHER AN HONEST, STRAIGHTFORWARD PERSON. I THOUGHT IT WAS YOUR SECRET PRIDE.
black sails (2014-2017) / the great gatsby - f. scott fitzgerald
#mutualssssss do we see my vision please please tell me#black sails#bs#the great gatsby#webweave#web weaving#intertext#black sails intertext#parallels#john silver#james flint#max black sails#max bs#eleanor guthrie#jay gatsby#nick carraway#jordan baker#daisy buchanan#photo/vid/gif
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Carey Mulligan and Leonardo DiCaprio as Daisy Buchanan and Jay Gatsby in The Great Gatsby (2013), co-written and directed by Baz Luhrmann.
It's so sad, because it's so hard to make her understand. It's so hard to make her understand. I've gotten all these things for her. I've gotten all these things for her and now she just... she just wants to run away.
#the great gatsby#the great gatsby 2013#carey mulligan#leonardo dicaprio#jay gatsby#daisy buchanan#daisy x gatsby#film#filmedit#filmtvedit#tvfilmedit#movie#movies#moviegifs#movie edit#cinema#cinemaedit#gifs
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Pinterest pose references served me well
#great gatsby#the great gatsby#nick carraway#jay gatsby#jordan baker#daisy buchanan#great gatsby fanart#classic lit art#collage#natsby#1920s
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