#jordan baker imagine

[echoalyssa]

Jordan with an s/o who also plays football. Imagine he takes the team to meet his gf at a game and the teams asking him which one of the cheerleaders is his gf and he says your number and you take off your helmet and there all shocked, oh and along with the team can you add Olivia and Layla??

Authors Note: I fucking love this request. Thank you for submitting it! I actually played boys football for a sec and I did a similar imagine with Brett Talbot from Teen wolf!!

The lights of the stadium are almost blinding, the noise and rumbling of the spectators is calming to him. He'd grown up around this, it was all he knew. He can feel it radiating through him, giving him that buzz that only football does. It's different watching in comparison to playing though.

It was the bye week for Beverly Hills which meant that tonight was the night. Jordan spots his friends in the stands where he'd previously left them so that they would have the best spots. Spencer nudging Olivia's side and pointing at cheerleaders.

It's like a big guessing game to them because Jordan was normally an open book but not about her. They didn't even know her hair color.

Layla is tapping on her phone muttering something about 'finding her on instagram.'

JJ loops an arm around his neck, whooping loudly and probably a couple shots in.

"So where is she?" Asher calls to him.

Jordan smiles, finding her easily in the sea of practicing bodies on the field. She moves different to the rest of them, more graceful. She slips between the bodies like she's dancing.

"I know! I know!" Yells Layla, pointing to a pretty blonde stretching on the sidewalk. She holds up her phone which displays the girl's instagram.

Jordan chuckles, thoroughly enjoying the mystery. He had nothing against the cheerleaders, band kids, or the color guard, but none of them compared to you.

If his friends just looked harder, they would see her.

Layla shows him a few more before he finally takes pity on her.

"Alright alright. It's number seven."

He sticks two fingers into his mouth, whistling a sharp whistle.

Spencer, Layla, Olivia, and Asher crane to look, confused as to how a cheerleader could have a number.

She turns to the noise immediately, knowing his signal to her was unique.

Jordan's friends are all still peering around curiously, somehow still missing the football player making a beeline towards them.

She slinks up beside him, tugging off her helmet and shaking a mess of hair out of the way. Jordan loops an arm around her waist, pulling her into him.

Layla screams behind him, somebody is smacking the bench and he can hear someone's ringer snapping a picture.

He lets her go, knowing that his friends will want to meet her. She greets them all with her usual magical smile.

"Guys! This is Y/N!"

His twin sister sweeps towards his girlfriend, wrapping her up in a hug and telling her they she's going to be the best sister in law ever.

Spencer is still staring in shock. Jordan's girlfriend is one of the top running backs in California.

Asher chuckles, "I fucking knew it man."

Asher had asked ONCE if Jordan had thought Y/N was hot.

Jordan continues to laugh, holding her helmet while she gives all of his friends hugs. Introducing herself even though they already know her.

"I can't believe you chose my brother!" Olivia calls to her and Jordan reaches over to smack her.

Y/N would fit in great.

#all american imagine #all american #the cw #jordan baker imagine #jordan baker x reader #jordan baker #michael evans behling

[slut4cbermen]

Love and Closure

This is my first time posting smut, so leave me alone :P

Word Count: #3032

Theme: Angry Sex with Jordan Baker 

Jordan Baker X Black reader 

Warnings: Angst, Toxic Relationship, Gaslighting, and Smut

"Then what the fuck was the point of this"

“I just feel like you don’t really pay attention to me anymore,” I said. I listened intently as those words escaped my lips, finally acknowledging the growing void that had been silently spreading between us.

I could feel the weight of the situation pressing on me as Jordan and I sat down for what was supposed to be a heartfelt conversation. However, amidst the intensity of the moment, something inside me started to shift. In the midst of vulnerability, a darker impulse began to creep in, whispering thoughts of manipulation and exploitation.

“Why would you even say that to me, with all the shit I do for you?” Jordan exclaimed angrily. Jordan's angry outburst caught me off guard, and I realized that my comment had struck a nerve, unintentionally dismissing their efforts and contributions to our relationship.

“Oh fuck you Jordan, don’t fucking start with this shit, you know what the fuck I meant” I said as attempted to diffuse the tension

“No the fuck I don’t, please go on, enlighten me, please I would love to heard what you need to say”, as Jordan's anger intensified, their challenging tone urged me to gather my thoughts and respond.

“The time that you forget my birthday because you had fucking football practice” I stated feeling all my emotion coming out all at once.

“That one time where you didn’t call me for one week because you wanted to train for football tryout, when you dad is the fucking football coach and your already QB1” 

“Ok, baby, I'm sorry ok!, just stop” Jordan pleaded for me to stop. 

“Stop, why Jordan, you wanted me to tell you all this shit, you fucking started it” I said as my heart sank as Jordan attempted to stop me from speaking my truth. 

“Why do you want to keep going, is it because you like that shit”, “You like that were arguing”, Jordan's accusation took me by surprise, their words reflecting a sense of frustration and confusion. 

“Now your just gaslighting me and changing the subject, You’re such a fucking narcissist” I told him. 

“Then why are you with me, huh” Jordan smirked. 

Caught off guard by the intensity by what he said, I stayed silent, I couldn’t really answer this question. 

“Why so silent now” he said he come closer to me, approaching me with a mix of frustration and seduction in his eyes. 

“No, don’t try to fuck your way out of this conversation”, I said, prompting me to gather my thoughts and find the courage to speak my truth.

“Why not, you love the way I fuck you” he said taking a deep breath, I met Jordan's gaze.

“No I don’t, your mediocre” I said, making sure to make eye contact with him.

“Say that again, I dare you”, Jordan's challenging tone and daring request hung in the air, tempting me to respond impulsively.

“Why, cause you like that shit??” I smirked, knowing I had used his words against him. 

This is how it was for Jordan and I, we’d circle around each other and fight like kids until one of us stopped  and we’d end up fucking like two wild animals.

"You think you're so fucking funny huh? I'm not doing this with you” Suddenly Jordan’s  hand wrapped around my throat pulling me into a rough kiss, his lips pressed against mine as his tongue exploring my mouth.

I moaned into his mouth as he forced me back, my back hitting the vanity in my room. 

"You're a little whore you know that?" He grabbed your thighs lifting you up causing some things on the vanity to fall on the floor.

“No! Fuck, stop this Jordan”, he scoffed, shoving your skirt above your waist.

"No fucking panties? God I should've known. You’re such a fucking dirty little slut." His fingers slid through your wet folds and he smirked, rubbing my clit with his thumb.   

“Fuck, Jordan” I moan as he contuined to rub my clit.

“What happened, where the girl that was talking a bunch of shit to me, I loved her”, I shrugged as he tightened his hand around my throat causing me to moan

“Come on now, Talk to me” he said as he pushed his fingers inside me.

I remain silent and just allow myself to be overwhelmed by him. He pulls out his fingers; which makes me wince, and starts to pull off my shirt slowly, running his fingers up and down my arms as he slides them off my body one by one until only I am left in my bra and soaked panties. 

“Tell me Ruby! Am I mediocre to you now?” He says as he ripped off my panties and uses it to tie my hands together.

“Jordan, please stop this, just fuck me please” I begged him. I know what I said in the beginning and I hate how I let him take over me. 

“No, you’re a fucking slut and you should know this and be treated like it” he said, as he brought his face closer to mine nipping on my bottom lip.

“Tell me” 

“No you’re not mediocre, I’m sorry Ok. Just fuck me please, I need you so fucking bad” I begged him once more.

He starts to take off his pants, unties my hands from my panties, and brings my hand to touch his bulge through his boxers. I stroke him gently through my boxers and his eyes light up in delight at the sight of my hand on his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fuck you so hard”  he says in between breaths. 

He pulls his boxers down and lets his cock spring free. I'm in awe at the sight before me, it's just so big. He smacks my hand away and wraps it around his cock again.

"Wrap your hands around it, babe" he moans, I do what he says and begin to pump it slowly. 

"Faster" he says, grabbing my ass, I speed up and his cock seems to grow larger with each stroke. I feel his cock swell in my hand and I can't help but let out a loud moan as he comes all over my hand. He lifts me up and sits me on top of my vanity. 

He grabs my hips and brings them closer to the edge. He leans me back so that my legs are dangling off the side of the vanity and takes his index finger and runs it through my folds causing me to squirm.

"You're fucking soaked" he says, inserting two of his fingers inside me.

I nod my head as I bite my bottom lip.

"I fucking asked you a question, use your words"

I open my eyes and look at him. "Yes" I moaned, he pulls his fingers out and licks his fingers. 

"What was that?" I look at him and I know exactly what he wants.

"Yes I am wet for you" I say, running my hands through his hair.

He looks up at me with a smirk on his face and runs his tongue through my folds. He licks my pussy slowly, starting at the bottom and going up to my clit. He begins sucking on my clit as he inserts his fingers inside me.

I buck my hips into his face as I grab a fistful of his hair. He sticks his tongue out and runs it across my clit.

"Your so fucking wet for me baby", I throw my head back, moaning and biting my bottom lip, I can feel my walls tighten as he continues to suck on my clit.

"Your such a fucking whore, you know that?" He says as he wipes the sides of his mouth.

"But you love it" I say, licking my lips.

"You bet your little ass I do" he smirks, "You ready for more?"

I nod my head as I watch him pull out a condom from his pocket. I know what comes next and I'm nervous.

"Just relax babe" He says, pulling me up from the vanity. 

He sits down on the chair, taking off his shirt. I take off my bra, but I keep my shirt on.

He kisses my neck as he rips open the condom wrapper. He places the condom on the table and brings his face back to mine.

"Fuck yourself on my cock" he says as he rips off my shirt, making me expose my breasts to him. He takes off his shirt and tosses it across the room.

I reach over and grab his cock, aligning it with my pussy. I slowly lower myself on his cock and let out a moan when it enters me.

I lower myself on his cock until I can feel his balls on my ass. I begin to ride his cock as I throw my head back. I move my hips, using my knees to push me up, and then bring myself back down. 

"Fuck Jordan" I say as I speed up, moving my hips faster.

He grabs onto my ass and begins thrusting his hips up, causing me to go deeper. He sucks on my breasts and I wrap my hands around his hair as he moves his tongue across them.

"I want you to get on top," I moaned.

He gets up and picks me up by the waist. He walks over to the bed and places me on top of it. He climbs on the bed, kneeling in front of me and then places himself at the entrance. 

He slowly slides back inside me and I let out a loud moan. He begins to thrust his hips, pushing himself inside me. He leans down and starts to kiss me, our tongues moving in sync. I grab onto his shoulders as he begins to move faster.

"Fuck Jordan, harder" I moaned. He moved his hips faster and harder. I started to moan louder as he thrusts himself inside me. I brought my legs up to his waist as he continued to fuck me.

"I should choke you, Fuck, I should choke you till you pass out" he says, stilling thrusting inside me. 

I moan and nod my head. I grab onto his arms as he moves his hands up my thighs and to my neck. I tighten my legs around his waist as he begins to choke me.

"You love this shit, don't you?" He says as he continues to thrust inside me.

"Yes Jordan, yes I do" I m

"Fuck Jordan, your gonna make me cum" He removes his hand from my neck and moves them down to my clit. He starts rubbing it and I start to squirm.

"I want you to fucking cum all over my cock" he moans. He picks up his pace and I can't take it anymore.

"I'm gonna cum" I scream as I let out a loud moan.

"Beg", he says as he continues to choke me harder. I squeeze my legs around him, keeping him inside me as I begin to moan louder.

"Please, please Jordan I want you to make me cum" I say as I bring my hands up to my neck.

"Again" he moans in my ear, squeezing my neck harder.

"Please Jordan, I need it so bad" I moan as I move my hips.

He lets go of my neck and begins to rub my clit again.

"Fucking cum" he screams as he comes to rub my clit faster.

I can feel my pussy tighten around his cock. He goes deeper inside me as he starts to rub my clit faster.

"Oh my god, I'm cumming Jordan" I moan as he begins to fuck me faster, moving his hips into me as he keeps rubbing my clit.

"Fuck Jordan" I scream as I cum all over his cock.

He pulls out of me and takes off the condom, throwing it across the room.  

"Get down on your knees and make me cum, you fucking slut" he said as he got up from the bed. I move myself down and kneel on the floor.

I place my hands on his thighs and move my face closer to his cock. I lick the sides of his cock slowly and he lets out a moan.

"Be a fucking whore and just take it all" he says as he grabs my hair. I put his cock in my mouth and start to bob my head up and down.

I nod my head, taking his cock out of my mouth and placing it back inside. I move my tongue around his cock. I bring my hands up to his balls and start rubbing them as I begin to suck harder.

"Fucking suck my cock whore" he said as he grabbed my head, forcing it down farther. I gag and spit starts to come out of my mouth. He pulls out and I start to lick his cock again.

"Fuck, open you mouth wide" He said as he pull his cock out of mouth.

I do what he says and stick my tongue out, waiting for him to cum in my mouth. He grabs my face and moves his cock to the side of my mouth, rubbing the tip of his cock on my lips. 

I look up at him, grabbing onto his thighs and trying to keep my mouth open. He moves his cock down and rubs the tip of his cock against my lips. I move my tongue out, sticking it out and trying to lick his cock.

"Fuck that's hot" he said, pushing the head of his cock inside my mouth.

I moan as I feel him hit the back of my throat. I tighten my legs together as I feel myself about to cum again.

"Fuck that feels good, Fuck" he said as he began to fuck my face.

"I want you to fucking suck this cock, don't you fucking dare let me cum" he said as he grabs my hair again.

I nod my head and start sucking his cock faster. He grabs my head and begins to fuck my mouth.

"That's it baby, Fuck" he says as he thrust his cock into my mouth. I grab onto his thighs as he begins to thrust harder and deeper.

"Fuck baby, I'm gonna fucking cum" he moaned as he took his cock out of my mouth.

"Cum all over my face Jordan" I said. He put his cock back inside my mouth and began to fuck it faster. I kept sucking his cock and he began to moan louder.

"Fuck" he said as he came in my mouth.

I began to swallow it all and then pulled his cock out of my mouth.

“You swallowed it all for me babe, you fucking slut" he said as he got down on his knees.

He brought his face closer to mine and began to kiss me. I moved my tongue across his lips and then he started to kiss my neck.

"You were so good for me baby, I fucking loved it" he said as he lifted me up from the ground.

He lied me down on the bed and got in between my legs.

"No, stop, just wasn't supposed to happen", I said as I pushed me off of me. 

"You sure?" He asked.

"Positive" I said.

He stopped and moved to lie next to me. We both lied there in silence for a while. He pulled me into his chest and wrapped his hands around my waist.  

"Jordan, I said no" I said as I pushed him off me again. 

"Why?"

"because I said so" I said

"Just tell me, please" he said as he brought his face closer to me.

I rolled my eyes and rolled over so that my back was facing him.

"You're my girlfriend and I love you" I cut him off and started to laugh.

"What the fuck is so funny Ruby?" he said.

I didn't answer him and kept my head facing the opposite direction.

"You say all this but don't actually mean any of this” I say as I continue to laugh.

"Oh shut the fuck up Ruby" he said as he moved closer to me.

"You say this but then suck my dick like a the little slut that you are" he said

"I'm done, I can't do this with you anymore" I said as I got up from the bed.

"What do you mean by that?" he said with a confused look on his face.

I looked down at the ground. Feeling angry at myself so letting this happen. 

"I'm done with you Jordan, I can't keep doing this" Jordan's face fell as the weight of my words settled between us, marking the end of our tumultuous relationship.  He sat there and didn't say anything.

"What? You got nothing to say" I said, I clenched my fists, determined to learn from my mistake and turn things around. 

"What do you want from me?" He said with no emotions on his face.

"You don't know what you want from me maybe stop fucking around with people and just be my fucking girlfriend" The air grew heavy with unspoken emotions as we stood there, each grappling with our own frustrations and desires for closure.

"Fine" he said.

"Fine? That's it?" I asked

"Yes" he said, His response hung in the air, leaving behind a lingering sense of unresolved tension and unanswered questions.

"Then what the fuck was the point of this" I questioned him, feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion wash over me.

“I don’t know” he said.

"Just fuck off Jordan, I don’t want to see your face" I said as I moved back to my bed. 

He grabbed my hand and made me turn around.

"What the fuck do you want from me Jordan?"

"I love you", he stammered, his words hanging awkwardly in the air. 

"You need to leave now" I said. My voice trembled as I tried to assert myself, realizing that allowing him to stay would only further complicate the already tangled web of emotions entwined within me. 

"No, not until you tell me you love me too"

PART 2??

#jordan baker #all american #reader #toxic boyfriend #smut #angst #jordan baker smut #jordan baker imagines #jordan baker x reader #hot #jordan baker story #jordan and leah #all american fic #all american s5

[oliviaabaker]

ALL AMERICAN UNIVERSE APPRECIATION WEEK Day 4: Favorite Romantic Ship → JORDAN BAKER & SIMONE HICKS

#all american #allamericanedit #aauaw23 #jordan baker #simone hicks #jimone #jimonedit #michael evans behling #geffri maya #** #MY CHILDREN!! MY TOWL & SMOL!! THEY CAN NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU!!! #imagine thinking i was picking anybody else like this is my brand! these are my kids! they are important to me! #texasbama #userotp #pocfiction #pocpopculture #pocedit #the girls that get it get it #the right here song is fitting damn it

[codychristiantreasures]

Cody Christian Autocomplete interview ft. Michael Evans Behling

Thought this was a fun idea

Warnings: mention of pregnancy?

I wish they did one of these interviews for real

Not proof read. Don’t come for me.

“Hi! I’m Cody Christian” “and I’m Michael Evans Behling and this our Autocomplete interview with WIRED.”

*cuts to Cody and Michael with their boards*

“It took us 4 tries to say that line correctly” Michael says while laughing. “This is why we’re always on set for so long. We’re always laughing and messing up our lines.” Cody says while looking at Michael then to the camera “lets get started!”

“Is Michael Evans Behling” Michael says while slowly pulling off the paper with an intense stare into the camera “single?” “Yes, I’m single.”

“I knew that question would come up at some point for you” Cody says while laughing. “Ok. Is Cody Christian actually good at football?” “He’s actually a great player!” Michael chimes up before Cody can answer. “I put a lot of hours into training and practicing to be the best I could be. I wanted to bring that character alive and have everyone watching really believe the whole ‘I’ve been playing football all my life and it’s all I have’ thing that Asher has going on. So I hope it all payed off and I’m good at football” Cody answers with a smile.

“How tall Is Michael Evans Behling?” “I am just under 6’2”

“Can Cody Christian drive?” “Yes, as soon as I could get my license, I did. I love driving. The LA traffic isn’t my favourite thing but I’ll always opt to drive if I can”

“Is Michael Evans Behling friends with Cody Christian?” Michael starts laughing “No, we hate each other. We only talk because we have to” Cody starts chuckling “jokes aside, yes, Cody and I are great friends. One of the funniest and kindest guys I know.” “Thanks bro” Cody says while dabbing Michael.

“Is Cody Christian married” Cody looks at the camera wide-eyed while Michael is covering his face with his board, trying to hide his laugh.

“Well…Yes. I have been married for a year. I have always worn rings so no one really questioned when I started wearing a ring on my wedding finger. My wife and I were engaged for a year and a half because I wanted to be able to help with all the planning and organizing so we would do what we could between filming.” “I did not expect that to come up” Michael says to Cody while grinning. “Now that the cats out of the bag, when are the mini-me’s coming along?” Cody lets out a laugh “she already has you to take care of because you’re at our house an average of 4/7 days” Cody jokingly says to Michael.

“Well that was fun! We hope you enjoyed it as much as us! Let’s hope Cody is still alive tomorrow after spilling the tea.” Michael says to the camera, ending the interview.

Cody turns to Michael “She is pregnant by the way.” Michael looks at him stunned; then Cody answers a call from you while waving bye to Michael and leaving the set.

#cody christian #asher adams #cody christian x reader #cody christian drabble #michael evans behling #all american #jordan baker #cody christian imagine

[the-big-gatsbi]

Seriously considering making some little imagines and headcanons for The Great Gatsby… 😳 🙈🫣🤫

I just really like this book and i wanna be submerged into it like so far into almost as if I’m living in it myself. Tho the 20s mostly sucked tho but hey at least i got to see the fashion in person and my beloved characters be idiots in person teehee 🤭

#jay gatsby #nick carraway #the great gatsby #f. scott fitzgerald #like maybe some nick x gatsby headcanons #and some x reader action maybe?? #cuz i love them #and i simultaneously hate and love daisy so maybe some stuff for her too #and ofc i love jordan and i always imagine her as a secretly gay woman dating nick to pretens she’s straight #jordan baker #daisy buchanan #like yeah is this dumb? #probably #but do i want x reader content for great gatsby? #yes. yes i do

[mamma-mia-if]

Yearbook with some updated ROs, using the new Djarn Picrew! Everything subject to change as always, just wanted some visuals for them.

~

Ivy Childs-Kothari, Student Class President, Most Likely to Succeed. Attending NYU Shanghai in the fall.

Gender-selectable (but Ivan has almost always gone by "Ivy"). Your charming and loyal best friend. The only thing they've ever failed at was finding their birth parents, so now that you have a chance at finding your dad, they are very involved.

~~~

Jess Baker, Cheerleader, Best Smile. Attending UCLA in the fall.

Gender-selectable (but always "Jess"). A chipper sweetheart who's always supported you at your [selected extracurricular talent]. They're more than happy to help you out with finding your dad, especially if it means neglecting their own problems.

~~~

Jordan Baker, Academic All-Star, Most Likely to Win a Nobel Prize. Attending Caltech in the fall.

Nonbinary. Optionally, your academic rival since kindergarten, but in any case, they're brilliant and they know it. You're not exactly friends, but they'll use their position as an intern in a biology lab to help you out with testing your potential dads' DNA samples (...for a favor).

#idk about the boys' hair (they look Good just not exactlyhow i imagined them) #ivy childs-kothari #jess baker #jordan baker

[godsfavoritebabe]

I’d been thinking of writing some fics but need some inspiration and ideas. Send me some in my ask box for motivation.

#imagine #chill #fall vibes #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x reader #travis kelce #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #smut #writing #jordan baker

[ingeniousmindoftune]

I’ve been late on ALL AMERICAN new seasons and sequel. I’ve been sooo damn busy but I’ll definitely get to those Jordan fanfics.

#jordan baker #all american #black writer #black fanfiction #imagines #michael evans behling #black reader

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝙸𝙸. 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: fluff, flirting, pining, internalized negative talk | WORD COUNT: 8k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: When Miller Contracting ends up in a bind, Joel wonders if you might be the solution to their problem.

Joel overheard it somewhere near the cracker and chip aisle. He’d been here enough over the past few weeks to recognize disembodied voices of some of the staff or to see you helping Mrs. Baker load up her car time and again, the latter of which he repeatedly swore to himself wasn’t completely intentional. He told himself he just kept the same scheduled date and time with Jordan because it was easier that way. It had absolutely nothing to do with the little dopamine hit his brain got whenever he saw you or got to talk to you in passing when he came in to buy lemonade.

“No, what I’m saying is that we don’t have time for this kind of shit when somebody already called out sick for their shift,” the store manager’s voice came drifting around the corner. All the sickly sweet customer service had been drained from his tone, and Joel imagined this was what he sounded like most of the time. Your typical run of the mill asshole who acted too big for his britches and could use a swift kick in the ass to knock him down a peg or two.

“Sorry, it’s just Mrs. Baker comes every week, and she’s a really good customer. I’m sorry that Robert had to ring up a few more people on his own, but I loaded up her car as fast as I could.” There was that sweet voice he’d become way too eager to hear every week - not that he sought it out or anything. Except the kindness usually found in it had deflated into a mildly panicked rush of explanation.

“However you wanna play your ‘I’m just so sweet’ schtick is up to you, but not when we’re swamped with customers,” Jeremy snaps. “Now get over to produce and straighten it up. It’s a fucking mess over there!”

The heavy stomp of feet fades towards the opposite end of the store. Joel peers from behind the endcap and confirms his suspicions that it had indeed been you on the receiving end of that prick’s badgering. Your head was still fixed on Jeremy’s retreating form. Fists clenching and unclenching at your side. Shoulders hunched and tight, raised so high they're practically touching your ears. Then all at once your body slumps into an accepted defeat, and you let out a long, tired sigh.

“He always that much of an asshole to you?”

You whip around in comic speed, hands flying to your chest in surprise at Joel’s appearance. Your eyes had gone the size of dinner plates, and you sucked in a deep breath like you were squashing a genuine shriek of surprise.

“Oh, didn’t mean t’scare ya,” he quickly allays, taking a step back and raising an apologetic hand of surrender.

“N-No, you’re fine. I just didn’t hear you.” You shake your head and fix your face with a soft smile. “Sorry about that.”

“He talk to all the employees like that?” Joel presses again.

“Like what?”

“Like he hasn’t had his ass beat enough times to talk nice to people?”

The surprised giggle busts from your chest like a swarm of butterflies, and Joel can’t help but grin even if the response is a little different than what he’d been expecting. He chalks it up to the leftover nerves of being startled a few moments prior. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, he’s just- we’re one person short, so he just sort of gets that way sometimes when he’s stressed. Just a bad day kinda thing.”

It’s bothersome how dismissive you seem about someone talking down to you, and if that weren’t bad enough, you actually sounded like you were defending that asshole a little bit.

“S’not really a reason to give somebody a tongue lashing like that - especially not a lady.”

He clocks the tight smirk that curves your mouth. “Well, thanks for the sentiment, and I’m - again - I’m so sorry you had to overhear that. It’s definitely not the customer experience we want to offer here, and I apologize that your visit with us was impacted negatively. I assure you it won’t happen again.”

“You always apologize this much for stuff that’s not your fault?” He wouldn’t usually be so blunt, but that was at least the fourth time you’d said sorry in half as many minutes.

Your smirk fades into dust. “What?”

“S’just, I mean– he shouldn’t be talkin’ to employees like that, is all. I couldn’t imagine talkin’ to any of my crew that way. Bein’ in a bad mood ain’t much of a reason to chew somebody out like that.”

“You manage a grocery store, too?” “Besides, it doesn’t make for good business runnin’ it like that.”

You both talk over each other, and Joel lets out a soft chuckle.

“Oh, sorr–” You clamp your mouth shut before you can finish the dreaded word. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You gesture for him to continue with what he was saying.

“You didn’t interrupt. We were just talkin’ at the same time. And, uh no, can’t say I’ve got the chops to manage a grocery store, but I do alright with my construction crew. I’m a contractor.”

Recognition dawns on your face. “Oh! Right! Miller Contracting, right?”

“Joel Miller of Miller Contracting, the one and only,” he confirms with a little wink.

Christ he needed to get a grip. Settling so easily into this sort of light, flirty exchange with you might not have been a conscious choice, but the last thing he wanted was end up being another creep hitting on you in the middle of your job when you didn’t have much choice but to stand there and engage. He was sure there was no short list of men who found all sorts of stupid things to ask for help with while you were just trying to get through your shift.

That small little grin was creeping back onto your features, and he tried very hard not to stare. 

“Yeah, I didn’t recognize you without your car underneath you.”

“Well I guess we gotta work on the ‘outside the truck’ branding then.”

You glance over his shoulder to the produce section. Right. You had work to do, and he was holding you up.

“Well, uh… wish I could say I remember your name, but in all fairness I don’t think you got your name and number slapped on the side of your car for me to use as a cheat.”

“Well, I don’t think my name and number would be super visible on my bike frame, but maybe I can work out some kinda sign or something and zip tie it on there.”

You look amused, but Joel feels like an asshole. He’d seen you on a bike a million times and riding in a car approximately zero times. You probably didn’t even own a car if he had to guess. He thinks about all the unseasonable rain this past summer and wonders what you do to get to and from work on those days. Certainly not ride your bike in the pouring rain. Hopefully you caught a ride with somebody or did one of those rideshare things Sarah was always talking about.

“Oh, m’sorry abou–I didn’t mean for that to sound–”

“You always apologize for things that aren’t your fault?” Your small grin spreads into a wide smile, and Joel breathes a little sigh of relief that he hadn’t made a complete ass of himself. He’s further relieved when you refresh his memory on your name and the street you live on.

“Right. Your dad and brother live there, too. Right?”

Your face pulls tight for a second before returning to something more neutral. “That’s us,” you confirm in a brighter tone than your body language tells.

“Well, I’ll let ya get back to it.” He points his thumb behind him towards your waiting work. “It was nice talkin’ to ya. Hopefully won’t be under the same circumstances next time,” he adds with a searching glance for Jeremy.

“Yeah, definitely. It was good talking to you, Joel.” You dip your head and walk off towards produce. Joel rolls his eyes at his fumbling social skills. Since when did he get to feeling like a nervous teenager just talking to somebody in a grocery store? What was more innocuous than talking to somebody in the middle of a grocery store?

He shook his head at his awkwardness and headed to the drinks. By the time he made it back to his truck, he was going to be late no matter how many red lights he managed to avoid. Maybe he should push Jordan’s next appointment back a little next time. Just in case.

You hadn’t meant to laugh, but it came out before you could stop it. After all, Jeremy’s soft toothed bite was a drop in the bucket of what you’d lived with your entire life. Sure, you’d been a bit nervous in the moment, but that was more Pavlovian response to a man being upset with you than any actual fear being present. Jeremy was an asshole most of the time, but it didn’t grate you like it did a lot of the other employees. You suppose you could thank your father for that built in function of desensitization to acerbic men.

You’d been seeing Joel crop up on a regular basis every week now, and it had sort of become something to look forward to. He was easy on the eyes and always polite. It was nice having that sort of certainty in a shift. Today had been the most you’d talked to him since he started showing up every week. You weren’t entirely sure if he was seeking you out the way you sought him out, but it didn’t much matter as long as you got that little boost of encouragement mid shift.

He was a captivating person, making these small microexpressions you couldn’t quite pin. You’d spent your entire life tuned into the tiniest of shifts in mood or body language so you could be prepared to keep it from changing into something unpleasant. Managing the mood of the room was always how you’d looked at it. It had become a useful tool once you started working after your mom skipped town. Yet another unintended gift from your father.

You were still trying to figure out where Joel's mind had gone to after you corrected him about not having a car of your own. It almost looked like concern, but that didn’t make a lot of sense in the context of the conversation. And then he’d gone and apologized, but you weren’t sure why. You hadn’t taken any offense to his assumption that you had a car. Most people had to have a car to get hired these days because even the bus wasn’t considered “reliable transportation.” It was a giant middle finger to anybody unfortunate enough to not have the option of a personal vehicle.

Your thoughts drifted like they often did as to who that second lemonade was for. At first you’d deluded yourself into imagining that he got two for himself, but he’d just buy the bigger size if that was the case, right? It was sort of around lunchtime when he came every week, so maybe that’s when his girlfriend was available for a little work visit. Well, you assumed girlfriend. He didn’t wear a ring. Then again, he was a contractor. Sometimes they didn’t wear jewelry when they were working for safety reasons, right?

Dissatisfied with your meandering considerations, you focused your attention onto something more certain: how absolutely and insanely handsome he was, especially up close.

The whole contracting thing made perfect sense considering he was in pretty good shape for someone in his… 40s? 50s? He had enough grays sprinkled in his curly brown hair and patchy beard. He had a sort of authority about him that spoke to knowledge earned through experience while at the same time holding an air of confidence in someone who was comfortable with themselves.

He gave you the feeling that wherever he led, you’d be safe to follow. The unassuming, kind way he held conversation had you transfixed on the spot every time. There never seemed to be anything he was going after, no specific outcome or response he was seeking, and it had you chatting back and forth in an organic, instinctive sort of way that was foreign enough to make you feel out of sorts. It was rare that you were talking to someone without following the prompts or silent directions they laid out. And if carrying yourself in talk with someone without outside pressures wasn’t enough to manage, you had to force yourself to not stare at him.

The span of his shoulders was the stuff of wet dreams. They were the sort of shoulders you imagined gave rise to the phrase “weight of the world on your shoulders” because if any could support it they’d be his. His pronounced, curved nose winded down towards rounded, pink lips. His eyes crinkled whenever he smiled, and you had never thought the idea of fainting couches was actually a thing until he graced you with one of those Joel Miller smiles.

Come to think of it, the man explained a lot of idioms and metaphors that hadn’t really made much sense to you until you’d met him. A sight for sore eyes. Take your breath away. Go weak in the knees. Head over heels. You were sure there’d be more the longer you knew him. He was the sort of person who demanded something more than plain speech. He had something innately poetic and beautiful about him, and you felt yourself wanting to know as much as he’d let you know.

Whatever you’d yet to learn about him, one thing was certain: Joel Miller was a bright spot in your otherwise pathetic life.

“C’mon now, Jennifer. This is gonna put us in a hell of a spot,” Joel groans into the receiver.

Loud sniffles and a hiccup come through the other end. “I-I can’t s-s-see him! I’m already m-moving out this w-weekend. It’s over. He f-fucking broke my heart, Joel! I c-can’t d-deal with this! HE BROKE M-MY FUCK-FUCKING HEART!”

Joel scrubs a hand over his face. Jennifer had been a great secretary/sometimes personal assistant over the past seven years. He didn’t think too much of it when Corey started working for them a couple years ago and hit it off with her. It wasn’t long before he was turning a bit of a blind eye when they were getting a little too cozy in the office. It was happening more frequently as they were clearly going out of their way to see one another, but it wasn’t affecting anyone’s work so he let it slide. Besides, he didn’t want to be the grumpy boss dumping water all over the flame of young love.

About a year ago when Corey proposed, Joel and Tommy felt pretty good about their decision to not intervene on the budding relationship for the sake of professionalism or whatever else. Now, listening to Jennifer sobbing and quitting over the phone after she’d found out Corey had been cheating on her for a few months? Yeah, Joel is second guessing every time he maybe should’ve hit the brakes a little harder.

“Listen, Jennifer,” he pleads. “I know it’s fucked up, and I’m not makin’ excuses for him. I have every mind to kick his ass myself, but the thing is right now that you are the only thing keepin’ these books and calls and appointments together. If you quit right now, me ‘n Tommy are gonna be royally fucked.”

She lets out a new round of sobs, and Joel winces at his poor choice of words. “Listen, Jennifer, we can’t do this without yo–”

“I’m s-sorry, Joel, but you’re gonna h-have to,” she chokes out before the line goes dead.

Great. Perfect. The time of year when they catch up on all this shit, and now Corey had to go be a fucking moron about everything and wet his dick in someone who most definitely was not his fiance. Joel had tried calling Jennifer back multiple times to talk her into not quitting, but she shut him down every time. The only thing left to do was try to salvage what he could of everything she’d left behind. The phones were ringing way more than usual, and it took everything in Joel’s power to not find Corey every day and wring his neck for causing such a massive disruption.

Joel wasn’t a total stranger to all this stuff, but he hadn’t been in the throes of it for nearly a decade. Jennifer was at the helm for all this stuff for nearly 7 years, and Sarah had done most of the job before Jennifer came along. He'd taken it for granted, not having to worry about much of anything when it came to administrative stuff, and it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

Around the week and a half  mark since Jennifer quit, Joel had finally moved all the files and calendars into his home office. Most of the time he felt ready to light a match and not look back. His main focus was keeping payroll uninterrupted, staying on top of current project accounts, and following up with payments and client satisfaction.

He missed a weekly appointment with Jordan because of all this hubbub, which meant he also missed a week getting to see you. He’s tired and on edge now, but at least he has a chance of getting to see you. Mrs. Baker is fiddling with her trunk, and he isn’t sure if she just arrived or is on her way out. When she shuffles towards the driver’s seat, Joel safely assumes you’d already loaded up her car and headed back inside. “Hey there, Mrs. Baker,” he greets with as much warmth as he can muster.

“Hi, sweet boy,” she calls back. She frowns a little as if she can tell something is off, and she says as much to him. He explains the main points of his current predicament but makes sure to leave out all the details of the stripclubs and the hidden dating apps. “Aw, well that’s a shame,” Mrs. Baker tuts. “We’d be better off if there were more youth like the sweet girl who helps me with these groceries.”

“That I agree with ya on one hundred percent, ma’am.”

“Such a sweet girl. Reminds me so much of my granddaughter. You know, Ruthie? Sweet girl. Always so helpful and looking for ways to be helpful. Smart as a whip, too. Seems a little sad sometimes, but what do I know.” Joel isn’t sure if she means her granddaughter or you, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask. “Anyway, you take care now, and tell that brother of yours I said hello.”

Joel promises to do just that and heads into the cold store. Much to his delight, he doesn’t have to venture very far inside before he spots you. You spot him, too, and he swears you look happy to see him. “Hey there. Met the President of your Fan Club out in the parking lot again.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Mrs. Baker is the President of everybody’s Fan Club, I think.”

“Tell that to Sandra Bigsby from when we were about 6 or 7. Mrs. Baker couldn’t stand her. We didn’t much care for her, but it was always sorta funny to see an adult show so much dislike for a kid.”

“Oh, you know Mrs. Baker? Or, well, I guess you’ve known her your whole life?”

“Yeah, pretty close to. Went to the same church growin’ up. She and my folks were friendly.”

“Well that says something, doesn’t it? That she still remembers you all these years later?”

“Yeah, I s’pose it does,” Joel admits with a faint blush. “And, uh, she’s pretty vocal about how nice of a person you are and helpful as all get out, so there’s that, too. You know, if we’re talkin’ about her stamp of approval meanin’ somethin’.”

Your face softens into a bittersweet corner tug of the mouth, like you hadn’t heard anyone say they were proud of you for a very long time. “She’s a very nice lady,” is all you mumble in return.

“That she is,” he agrees. “And, uh, you know, good judge of character ‘n all.” The thought had already started formulating in Joel’s head: would you be somebody that could help with a few phone calls and appointments until he found a replacement for Jennifer? “It’s actually sorta funny that she’d be talkin’ about how helpful ‘n smart you are because I’m actually lookin’ for a bit of help with something right now.”

You pause and turn your attention to him fully, brow pinched in curiosity.

“Well, you know the whole Miller Contracting business. We’re actually in a bit of a bind at the moment with secretary type help. Had our girl quit outta the blue on us, so I’ve been tryna do my regular stuff on top of all the stuff she managed.”

“Oh no, that sounds awful. I’m so sorry.”

The sincerity in your voice made Joel’s chest feel tight. “Yeah, it’s been about two weeks now, and I’m about ready to pull my hair out to be honest with ya.”

“No, I’m sure it’s a lot to deal with.”

“Yeah, that’s sorta where I was goin’ with this,” he presses. “I wouldn’t suppose– I mean, I know you work real hard here ‘n all, but if you were lookin’ for somethin’ like some extra hours, I mean….”

You tilt your head and purse your lips. “I just work at the grocery store. I don’t have any skills for office work or anything,” you breathe in a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve never done any stuff like that, really. I don’t have any experience, I guess is what I should say.”

“I mean, yeah, some of it is using computer programs and whatnot, but a lot of it is just picking up a phone and followin’ up with clients and appointments. I’m sure you know how to use a phone.” Joel scratches the back of his neck and looks off to the right to displace some of the jittery nerves he seemed to get whenever he had to hold conversation with you.

“How do you even know I’d be helpful?” You ask this like it’s a genuine question, as if you can’t fathom a scenario in which you’d possess the capabilities to do something more than what you currently do. It makes Joel feel sad for a passing moment knowing that Mrs. Baker must’ve been talking about you and not her granddaughter Ruthie when she’d said all those things: sweet girl, always so helpful, always looking for ways to be helpful, smart as a whip, seems a little sad sometimes.

If anything, it strengthened his resolve to talk you into it. “I trust Mrs. Baker, and so do you. So, if she says I’m a nice young man or whatever, and you believe that to be true, then you also gotta accept that she vouches for you as somebody that could really help me out right now.”

Something about this seems to land with you. It occurs to Joel that asking you to place the trust in someone else’s view of you is easier than trusting your own beliefs and judgments. Seems a little sad sometimes echoes again as he watches you consider his request.

“I mean, is it–I can’t cut my hours here,” you say like you’re talking yourself through it aloud. “And I don’t have a car, so if the office is – I don’t know where the office is, so if it’s kinda far off then I wouldn’t be able to get there.”

“No no, no need to cut hours,” Joel assures. “And I actually just moved all of it to my home office so I could work on it after hours, so it ain’t too far from your house.”

“Oh?” You perk up at that. “That’s actually, yeah. That could actually work, I think.”

“And I ain’t lookin’ to short ya or anything on pay. It ain’t like a personal favor or somethin’. I would pay you right,” he rushes to explain. He was glad you didn’t think it was creepy or unprofessional he was asking you to work out of his house. You didn’t seem too put off by it at all. In fact, you seemed to have rooted in something that made you almost excited about it. The tentative hope that bubbled up in you gave him a strong urge to say or do something that would give him the opportunity to do it again. And again. And again.

“No, of course not. I know you wouldn’t do that, Joel.”

God, the way his name rolled off your tongue was like butter sliding down a hot biscuit. 

“So, you need me a couple days a week or ….?”

“Ah, well, yeah I’m willin’ to take up as much of your time as you can give me, if I’m bein’ honest.”

The easy smile that spreads across your features makes Joel feel like his brain just shut off and restarted. He blinks a few times and smiles back, a loose goofy thing he hoped didn’t make him look like too much of a dope. He gets himself together enough to exchange information with you and get a rough schedule for your help over the next couple of weeks. He apologizes in advance for his training abilities, but you just laughed it off and tell him it’ll be fine.

He had a feeling you were right.

You felt like you were flying the entire bike ride home. Not only were you going to have a secret stream of income that your father couldn’t touch, you were going to be spending more time with Joel Miller. The man who every time you talked to him it felt like you were slipping into a cozy warm bath. This type of thing was what the Kenzies of the world experienced, not you.

You tamper down your floaty feelings of happiness in case your dad was already home. The last thing you wanted was to rouse his suspicions about anything. You breathe a sigh of relief when you don't see his car in the driveway. It’s all a giddy blur getting inside and plopping down starfish onto your bed. You open your ancient slide screen phone and scroll down until you find Kenzie’s text thread.

You: how’s the job stuff going? miss u at the store :(

Kenzie: omg same :( but its going so good! ive already met so many ppl

You: I knew you’d hit it off right away typical kenzie lol

Kenzie: omg stop haha is jeremy being a tool still

You: the same so yes

Kenzie: ugh hes the worst istg

You: actually wish you’d been there the other day when he was being so loud getting on my ass that a customer overheard him

Kenzie: omg did they complain

You: no they just made sure I was okay it wasn’t like awful or anything just more awkward than anything Jeremy had always walked away

You: *already

Kenzie: was this customer a boy lol

You: no not a boy

Kenzie: aw booooo tomato tomato i thought u were gonna tell me a night in shining armor came to ur rescue

You: all I said was not a boy ;)

Kenzie: oohhhh a MAN?

You: lol yes Joel Miller

Kenzie: uuummmm mr lemonade hottie?!??!!

Kenzie: 👁️🫦👁️

You: ha ha yes

Kenzie: omg i would hav e died hes so hot

You: he was very nice :)

Kenzie: yeah ok and hot

You: I mean yeah duh

Kenzie: 💀

You: actually he offered me like a side hustle thing today

Kenzie: 👀

Kenzie: um explain pls bc that sounds kinda sus 

You: 🙄 the secretary at his contractor business quit I guess so he needs some help with phonecalls and stuff until he can hire somebody else

Kenzie: ummm he could just hire u 🤨

You: I don’t have the experience for that no way

Kenzie: u could learn in like 2 secs

You: yeah I guess we’ll find out soon

Kenzie: when do u start

You: next Tuesday

Kenzie: ok when he offers u the job pls let me be there when u quit in jeremys face bc i wanna see it 

You: yeah okay kenzie 😐

Kenzie: look at us out here becoming business professionals omg love that

You: you’re crazy lol

Kenzie: i know 💃

You laugh to yourself and let the phone slide beside you on the mattress. It felt nice to finally have something good to share with somebody.

The agonizing wait for Tuesday finally passes. You have the day off, and Joel shifted his schedule around to dedicate the entire day to showing you the ropes. You waited for your dad to leave for work and then biked over to Joel’s.

“Mornin’,” he greets warmly.

“Hey, how’s it going,” you return.

“Bit better now that I got somebody else to help with this clusterfuck.” He stills for a moment like maybe he shouldn’t be speaking to a quasi employee with such coarse language.

You wave a dismissive hand in his direction as he gestures for you to come inside. “I’m not going to tell you how to talk in your own home, Joel.”

And what a home it is. The space is muted but cozy, all earth tones like things grow and flourish here. Like the stories the walls hold are those of good times passed and good times to come. It makes your heart ache in such a distinct way, longing for something you don’t even know.

“It’s a bit of a mess, sorry,” he apologizes.

“It’s really nice here, actually.” 

He offers you coffee, which you politely decline. He shows you his makeshift setup in his home office, and you spend the first few hours together just familiarizing yourself with the basics of the operation. You listen intently, categorizing and organizing every bit of information he shares. You’re determined to prove yourself, even if this isn’t a long-term thing. You watch his eyes squint when he’s explaining something more detailed. You watch the way his large hands grip so delicately around the mug of coffee, voided pitch black and bitter for a man who conveys neither attribute himself.  You watch how his lips purse and flatten as he takes the time to explain things to you, pausing every now and then to make sure you’re understanding what he’s saying.

If watching wasn’t distracting enough, his shoulders would bump into yours every now and again when he’d lean forward to point out something on the laptop screen. His knees would knock against yours or a thigh would rub when he’d reach across you for a second to tap a few keys on the far end from him. The smell of him was intoxicating when he rested an arm along the back of your chair to lean in and explain something on the screen. It was a heady almost floral – no, citrus – sort of scent, mixed with an earthy bit of coffee and moss and woodwork.

The programs themselves seemed straightforward enough, but navigating and manipulating them was where the struggle would lie. Despite his hesitance at training you on all this, he had an amazing knack for adjusting his communication closer and closer each time to what was most comprehensible to you. It felt intimate in a way, his ability and desire to modify himself just so that it might be an easier undertaking for you.

By the time you get to lunch, you feel almost dizzy in the space with him. When he excuses himself for a minute to take a call from Tommy, you take the first deep breath you’ve had in a long time. You busy yourself with something so he doesn’t return to find you being lazy. You look over Jennifer’s physical calendar books and contacts. She has such legible, neat handwriting. Different bits of information are written in different colored inks – a sort of profiling system, you think.

At the bottom of each contact’s field on the page, there’s a small purple note. It’s always something random written there, no discernible pattern other than tidbits of personal information one might use to individualize an interaction. Factoids about a birthday or a vacation spot with a year next to it. Little snippets like do not call after 2 pm! or observes both Christmas and Hanukkah. Reminders like friends of the family and send copy to wife.

Besides all the helpful Purple Prompts – what you deemed them to yourself after reading the 6th or 7th one – the account overviews are also immaculately organized. The dread of getting anywhere near close to this level of competency starts to creep up on you and pull down. You push it away and focus again.

“Yeah, those are her handwritten things,” Joel announces as he walks through the door. “I haven’t gone over those much if I’m bein’ honest. Mostly just been tryna keep all the digital stuff goin’.”

“She’s very tidy,” you note.

“Definitely had all our ducks in a row,” he agrees. “That’s the downside, I guess, of havin’ somebody so damn good at their job. When they leave, it takes multiple people to do a poor imitation of ‘em.”

You grimace slightly at his remark, which prompts him to hastily add, “Not that you’re a poor imitation of anybody! I just meant it– you know– listen, you’re doin’ great.” He runs a hand through his hair, mussing it even more than it already was. Bits of silver catch in the light when he tilts his head. There was something so attractive about a man who wasn’t afraid to let his grays come through. Not holing himself up in the bathroom every week for 20 minutes with a bottle of Just For Men and a beer while he painted away any traces of wisdom and experience.

“Do I have somethin’ in my hair?” he worries as he runs his hand through it again. You realize you’re staring.

“Oh, no! It looks great!” you squeak out in embarrassment. “You look great. Very handsome.” Your eyes bug out in shock at the casual compliment word vomit. You turn in your chair quickly and busy yourself with the laptop. Joel just chuckles softly and settles into his chair next to you.

“Wow, brown nosin’ the boss already, huh?” he teases. “You better watch out before I start fishin’ for compliments.”

“I wasn’t–I didn’t mean to–I’m sorry,” you stutter.

“Hey now, I’m just kiddin’. It’s good for an old man like me to have his ego boosted every now and then, right?”

You snort and shake your head but keep your eyes glued to the laptop screen where you’re busy doing a whole bunch of nothing. “You’re not even old.”

“Okay, now you’re really just butterin’ me up.”

“No, I swear. You don’t look old. To me.” Your face feels like it’s a million degrees and counting.

“Oh? Can I get that in writing?” he laughs. “Would come in handy to show Sarah the next time she gives me grief for my creaky knees.”

“Oh yeah, that’s your daughter, right? The one who did all this before Jennifer?”

“That’s the one, yep,” he confirms. “Little shit gives me a hard time any chance she gets. Between her ‘n Tommy I’m tempted to say it’s borderline bullying.”

You giggle at his tellings of family and downtime and home life. It sounds nice. “Oh come on, you can’t be that old.”

A glint of amusement dances in his eyes, mouth tugging up in one corner. “Go on. Give me your best guess.”

You scoff and get a little nervous. You don’t want to offend him. Truth is, it wouldn’t matter if he was old. He was kind and sweet and drop dead gorgeous. He motions for you to wager your guess. “Um. I dunno. Um. Fourty…. three?”

He tuts and leans back as if to take in all your audacity at guessing so low. “Oh c’mon now, give me a real guess.”

“That was a real— ugh, okay. Um. I mean. I dunno, fifty six?”

“Now you’re just gettin’ wild with it,” he busts out in a deep laugh. 

You fidget your hands in your lap, fingers picking at imaginary pieces of dead skin hanging off of them. You’d never really been good at telling people’s ages, and this felt like a test you were failing somehow. “Well, I don’t know! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid.”

“Aw, don’t say that, sweetheart. You’re not stupid, not one bit. I’m just teasin’ you. I’m comin’ up on 50 in a coupla weeks, actually.”

Sweetheart. It had poured from his mouth like a thick nectar, burning a sugary halo into your ear.

“Oh, happy birthday!” you say in a way-too-breathy-to-be-appropriate voice.

He waves you off but thanks you anyway. “See, you sorta had it. Just in between the first and the second number, yeah? You weren’t too far off. No need to feel bad or anything like that. And certainly no reason to feel stupid.”

“Okay, gotcha,” you agree quickly in the hopes that he’ll stop complimenting you. 

“Besides, you’re what? Twenty… er, twenty?” he offers weakly.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at his ridiculous guess. 

“Hey now, it’s different for ladies,” he protests with an impish smile.

“I’m the ripe old age of twenty three,” you hum with a shrug. "Twenty four in a few months."

“Christ, you’re makin’ me feel ancient now. Sarah was already born by the time I was twenty three.”

“No, I think that’s just a generation thing. My parents had us young, too.” Your stomach clenches at the conversational transition to your family. If Joel notices your odd change in posture or behavior, he doesn’t say anything.

“Hm, maybe. Maybe so,” he agrees. “Well, it’s due time for a little break. You don’t have to stay in here – unless you feel more comfortable doin’ that.”

You realize you didn’t pack anything to eat. “Um, I think I’ll actually just, uh, head back home for a little bit if that’s okay. I forgot to pack anything to eat like a moron,” you huff in self-directed impatience.

“You ain’t dumb. Quit sayin’ that. It’s worse than you apologizin’ all the time,” he gently chides. “Just come on down to the kitchen with me, and I’ll make you a sandwich or somethin’.”

Your mouth hangs open for a moment in surprise at his earnest appeal for you to not tear yourself down. It was a far cry from your usual day to day. “Okay, but only if you’re sure?”

He lobs one of those devastating smiles your way. “Very sure. Let’s go.”

He hasn’t made somebody else a sandwich since Sarah was probably in her late teens. He’s overthinking it now: how do you fold the ham so it sits right? What angle does the cheese go? He assembles it in the most presentable way he can manage, but he doubts you’d have any complaints. You don’t seem like the type to complain, even if it might be warranted. Even if you might want to.

At first it just read as polite and good home training, but the more he’s around you the more he feels like it’s just a veneer. Not that you wouldn’t be kind and considerate of your own accord, but the inclination to do so feels very much forced at times, like there’s some small voice in your ear constantly dictating which move should come next. Sometimes you get flustered at some perceived wrongdoing on your part, all imagined, and Joel just hopes he isn’t unconsciously doing something to make you feel so nervous.

It’d hit him like a lead cloud when you came into his home and looked around as if it was some sort of breathtaking sanctuary. He felt the waves of immediate, riveted comfort rolling off you. And then that small smile of yours when you’d said it’s nice here, actually, the one that plays so timid on your mouth like you’ve taken a lot of nerve to speak whatever words fell from your lips. He couldn’t help but soften and drink it in. 

He tried so, so hard to not stare at you while he was trying to go over the basics of the company and its workings. Every unintentional bump or glide against you felt like a scorching surge of electricity straight through him. And your face when you were concentrating, how you’d sometimes nibble on your lower lip when you were listening really hard to something he was saying. He’d had to look away a few times when his cock started kicking against his thigh in appreciation.

But then you’d gone and done that thing again where you talk down to yourself. Sorry this, stupid that. He hoped he wasn’t making you feel that way. He wanted to see that same smile that softened your face when you’d first arrived. He kept lunchtime light on conversation, letting you take the lead on it. Turns out you’re a bit like himself in that you don’t feel the need to fill every moment of silence with something. The comfortable silence felt nice, though. It wasn't often he could just sit with somebody and enjoy solitude together. It was a different sort of peace to have that with someone.

Eventually he spoke up, though, not wanting to give an impression that he didn’t want to talk to you. You seemed more relaxed now, and it warmed his blood to think he might’ve had something to do with that. You’re agreeable, as always, when he mentions pay at first might just be an under the table situation until he figures out if he needs to - or is capable of - adding another employee to the roster. You seem perfectly fine with his cash offer. In fact, he thinks you seem to be relieved in a way. He’s not sure what to make of that, but he doesn’t spend too much time on it. Not when you’re sitting across from him smiling about something and laughing under your breath as you tell him some random little tidbit.

Every morsel feels like a feast, but you? You’ve made a glutton out of him. He might be able to drink you until he’s sick, but he doesn’t think he could ever drink enough of you to be satisfied.

You hope and pray that baking Joel a cake for his birthday isn’t too weird. Now that you’re standing in front of his door, the same door you’ve frequented over the past few weeks since you started, you sort of wish you hadn’t done a lemonade flavor cake. It felt sort of personal but in a forced way. You should’ve just went with chocolate or something and made it less pushy and awkward.

But you forget all about that when he opens the door for you and erupts into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen when he spots the confection. He grabs it up like he’s elated and eager and over the moon at your silly little gesture. Your eyes flit to where his band t-shirt flexes against the bulge of his bicep and tugs across his chest. Your eyes wander down to the curvature and fit of his jeans against his hips and thighs as you follow behind him into the kitchen. The denim clings and pulls as he bends towards the counter to set the cake down. You can feel the heat on your chest creeping up your neck.

“This is just– thank you,” he says in earnest.

You smile back at him and shrug. “Just thought I’d brown nose the boss some more, you know?”

His whole face lights up at your gentle teasing. “Well, it’s working.”

“Would it undo it if I said I didn’t want to put candles on there because I didn’t want to risk burning the house down? Fifty is a lot, you know.”

He breaks into a deep belly laugh at that. “Sarah would give you a gold star for that one.”

He grabs you up into a loose, friendly hug. Your hand shoots to his chest and snakes up in a fraction of a second. He pulls back, still smiling, and rubs your back. “Thank you. Really.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist.

You both pull away from one another and eat a slice of cake.

It’s nearly the end of the month, and Joel has a growing funny feeling lodged in his chest. Once he thought it, he couldn’t unthink it. Once it crossed his mind, it had boomeranged back and rooted itself firmly into place and exploded. You look like you belong here in his home. It melded around you as if you’d always been a part of it - were meant to be here -  and what was worse was every time you were here it felt like a missing piece had come back to fill the empty space left behind. 

He wishes he could blame it on that hug when you’d brought him cake for his birthday, when your hand grazed across his chest and left a blazing fire in its place. But, no, it had started before that, and it was only getting worse. He listens to you now taking on a sometimes alright sometimes difficult client. They were behind schedule on starting a project for him. He was a repeat customer, but he was no nonsense about things.

“No, of course, Mr. Dillard. And I hate that all this is going on when I know it’s probably a tough time for you, too,” you say softly into the landline in his home office.

There’s some gruff sound on the other end.

“Oh, I apologize. I just– Joel had mentioned about Duke passing last year, and I know the first anniversary of something like that can be so difficult.”

Joel’s head cocks to attention at that. He hadn’t said any such thing. He leans in closer to listen to whatever it is that you’re concocting. There’s a long pause and then softer speaking.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have said anything– Oh– no, right —”

Another pause and a muted voice. You nod your head and purse your lips in agreement and faux understanding even though Mr. Dillard can’t see it.

“He mentioned it when I told him you were on my list of clients to call next. He has a memory I would kill for, I swear. And he’s always had a soft spot for dogs– oh my god, don’t tell him I said that, though. He might kill me if I’m going around telling everyone he loves fluffy puppies,” you giggle.

He hears what sounds like gentle laughter over the receiver before more unintelligible comments.

“No, and we appreciate how wonderful everyone is being about it. We’ve certainly been trying to put on a brave face, you know. She feels terrible about having to exit like that, but we keep telling her she absolutely should be focused on her health right now.”

More garbled conversation on the other end.

“Well I’m not at liberty to say, but I cannot express how much that means to us that you’re asking after her. I just know she appreciates all the support with how fast everything happened. Yeah. MMmhhhmmm. Yes, your thoughts and prayers mean so much to us, and I will definitely let her know that you are thinking about her.” 

Joel’s jaw would’ve been on the floor if possible. Mr. Dillard was okay for the most part, but god could he be a jerk if you caught him in the wrong mood. Here you were pulling some story outta your ass that had him doing a 180º and asking after Jennifer’s health after her brisk departure.

“Okay, now. I’ll be back in touch very soon, Mr. Dillard. Alright. You take care now. Buh-bye.”

You set the receiver down and scribble a few quick notes in purple ink. He doesn’t remember when he’d bought a purple pen. Had you bought that to just keep up with Jennifer’s established system?

“You’re amazing,” he laughs – an incredulous tone.

You knock him out with one of those bright smiles of yours.

tagging a few people who showed interest (lmk if you wanna be removed):

@witchy-and-persnickity @sheepdogchick3 @tuquoquebrute @ellenmunn @akah565 @goodwithcheese @koshkaj-blog @umnitsa @ellenmunn @jupiter-soups @pastelnap @fadajnaoqkzalq @confusedpuffin @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @cumberpegg @witchy-and-persnickity @persephone-girl @lovelyjess69 @verybigvag @nutterbitter @sunshinehaze1 @tuquoquebrute @beelzebeth87

#fic: chrysalism #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller fluff

[dotty-contrarian]

outfits for ladies of the great gatsby!

myrtle wilson: i imagined her wearing dark colors and rich, elaborate patterns. i also think she has black hair and brown eyes.

jordan baker: sporty and more boyish. garconne look. i see her as having a bright nature color scheme. vibrant greens, yellows, and oranges. and lots of white.

daisy buchanan: i associate daisy with lavender and light blue. i think she has a cute, girlish, innocent aesthetic. buttons and collars and dainty ribbons.

#the great gatsby #1920s fashion #myrtle wilson #jordan baker #daisy buchanan

[echoalyssa]

Can you do a fanfic of female reader x Jordan who is beat friends with JJ and Jordan gets jealous??

I love your work.

Jealous Baker | Jordan Baker

He knows that they've been best friends since birth essentially. He's been telling himself this for multiple times a day recently. He shouldn't be this upset because it had always been like this.

He's in the weight room with the rest of the team and his girlfriend. Except his girlfriend isn't with him, she's across the room with JJ Parker.

Jordan loved JJ, thought of him as one of his closest friends even though JJ drove him batshit crazy a majority of the time. He also loved his girlfriend, who currently, was driving him batshit crazy.

She's working into JJ's set and laughing at something he says. He shows her something on his phone and she slaps at his head. It's completely platonic. Jordan knows that.

Jordan's heart flips in his chest and he forces his gaze away. His headphones are at max volume and he lies back on the bench to finish his reps.

He spots them in the mirror though and suddenly the jealousy is overwhelming. The barbell is getting closer and closer to his face and he grunts.

He benched 315 for reps, there was no way that he was failing at 225 pounds.

Of course it's JJ who notices. He jumps over the equipment lying on the floor, jumping to Jordan's rescue.

"What happened, man? That's lightweight baby!"

Jordan scowls at him.

Y/N rushes over, grabbing his bicep. "Are you okay J?"

His demeanor softens towards her, but he still can't shake that crawling feeling of jealousy.

He doesn't mean to shake her off, but he does. He heads straight for the locker rooms, chucking his towel at the wall with a frustrated growl.

"Jordan!" JJ calls after him.

He hears the door open and he hopes it isn't either of them.

It's his girlfriend, her face lined with worry.

Jordan plops down on the bench and lets his head drop into his hands.

"What's wrong? You've been acting so strange lately."

He struggles to find the words to explain his irrational jealousy.

She touches his shoulder and then slides onto his lap, balancing on one of his knees. She takes his face into her hands and rests their foreheads together.

"You know you can tell me anything right?"

He nods and sighs.

"I'm just so jealous."

This shocks her and she's silent for awhile.

"You're jealous of what?"

He hesitates, knowing it may comes across as controlling. "You and JJ."

" JJ and I?"

He nods dejectedly.

"Jordan! I know we're close and it might come across weird. We'd talked about this though?"

"I know, I know. I don't even know why it's bugging me so much."

"Do you want me to put some distance in between us?"

"No, no! That's okay. This is something that I have to get over. I trust you."

She smiles, relieved. She presses her lips to his forehead.

"Plus no one gets to kiss you like this."

Jordan rearranges his girlfriend so that she's straddling him now. He presses his lips against hers and pulls her close.

Jordan would work on his jealousy, this was his issue not hers.

#jordan baker x reader #jordan baker #jordan baker imagine #the cw #all american #michael evans behling

[ugetelynx]

Serennedy X The Great Gatsby (work in progress)

Leon S. Kennedy = Nick Carraway

Luis N. = Jay Gatsby / Luis Serra Navarro = James Gats

^ For those confused Jay Gatsby isn’t his real name ! So Luis goes by Luis N. to work with that

Daisy Buchanan = Ada Wong (married Wesker for his money and nothing else basically)

Tom Buchanan (Tom’s a piece of shit btw) = Albert Wesker (Married Ada solely because people kept annoying him about being single)

Jordan Baker = Alice Abernathy

Myrtle Wilson = Jill Valentine

George Wilson = Chris Redfield

^ Married for convenience, besties+ cover ups (Jill has a girlfriend and Chris has a boyfriend, you can imagine from there)

Okay I kinda got the characters sorted, made Wesker not as much of a piece of shit (removed the racist aspects of Tom’s character) so he’s slightly more likable

(A lot of story elements will be the same/extremely similar to the actual books with some major changes)

Major changes:

Luis and Ada are not lovers or exs, instead REALLY close friends and Luis simply wants to get Ada out of her shit marriage

Wesker and Jill are NOT having an affair, Wesker’s having affairs with others. People rumor that the two are having an affair though which pisses both of them off

Ada and Leon aren’t cousins—obviously—rather young adulthood exes who worked out their differences (hence why they’re on good terms)

Leon and Luis are very comfortable in their bisexuality (aka they explored each other’s bodies at least once throughout this) (cause apparently Nick and Gatsby were too coward to do that in the actual story/j)

Ada and Wesker divorce by the end instead of staying together

Ada and Wesker don’t have a kid, but Ada is expecting at some point (she doesn’t have the kid with Wesker, she has the kid after running off with a certain somebody)

Chris isn’t the one who shoots Luis

(Story)

Leon moves to Long Island, New York to get away from home and live by himself. He rents a house in West Egg which happens to neighbor a major estate, whose home owner is none other than Luis N.

Leon finds himself dining with Ada Wong and eventually meets Alice, a “friend” of Ada’s. They’re both at first skeptical of each other, Leon not all that interested in her. After a while Ada confesses that Wesker has a mistress and Ada’s knows about it but doesn’t seem to do anything about it or care all that much.

The same evening, Leon takes a step outside, drink in hand. There he spots Luis standing on his lawn staring at something across the way.

One morning Leon receives an invitation from Luis to attend one of his parties. When he gets there he gets anxious at the fact that he doesn’t know anybody and—not wanting to just go up to somebody and weird them out—he begins drinking.

While drinking, Leon steps outside to get some air. He’s later approached by none other than Luis. Leon can feel his breath catch as this stunning brown haired individual comes up to him, asking him if he liked the party. Leon’s not focused on that though, he’s focused on the warm smile on Luis’ face and gentle eyes looking him up and down. Studying him.

The two chat casually for a bit to Leon’s surprise, and when Leon leaves, he looks back to see Luis watching him the entire time—once again causing him to get hot under the collar.

Sometime July, Leon and Luis have lunch together. Tossing longing glances at each other as Luis tries to desperately impress Leon with old tales of his past, making Leon laugh a couple times. They end off lunch with Luis asking Leon if he’d like to come back home with home, to which Leon disagrees because he’s meeting with Alice about something she wanted to talk about with him away from everybody. Luis nods, understanding albeit disheartened, but Leon makes sure to give Luis a passing kiss on the cheek—thanking him for lunch—before leaving. (And desperately praying nobody saw that)

When Leon meets up with Alice, they sit down for tea. Leon explains how he knows Ada and Alice explains how she does. Alice seems skeptical of Ada’s ex hanging around her, which Leon catches onto and quickly mentions Luis. Alice almost instantly sees right through him, messing with him for going after the rich neighbor as Leon groans in embarrassment. Alice then goes on to explain that Luis and Ada are best friends, which catches Leon’s attention. She explains that Luis has always been very terrified of Ada’s marriage with Wesker, and that he’s been trying to convince her leave him and Alice has been doing the same.

When Leon asks why she won’t when two of her friends are asking too, Alice just flat out says “she’s hoping he dies soon because the dude’s a dick and she can get all his money then run off with m-..somebody.”

Leon’s eyebrows furrow in concern and Alice nods, saying she feels the say skepticism about it. Ada’s a strong woman though, Wesker knows that too so nothing physical ever happens—just a lot of arguments but nothing ever escalates past somebody leaving the house for the night.

That relaxes Leon but granted knowing that Ada’s in a shit marriage regardless has him worried about her.

Throughout the next couple months, Ada is spending less and less time with Wesker and more time at Luis’ house with Alice, Luis, and Leon. All four of which are relaxed enough to show intimacy between their actual lovers (Leon and Alice are using each other as cover ups because they could still be hatecrimed)

Luis laying down on Leon’s chest as Leon runs his fingers through his hair, Alice kissing Ada at random points even in front of the guys (not that they give two shits, theyre just happy to see Ada actually have someone who cares for her)

Ada learns late August, early September that she’s pregnant which terrifies her and is the deciding factor she needs to go through with divorcing Wesker and running off with Alice. So she, Leon, Luis, and Alice all go out to a hotel with Wesker to talk about it sometime mid-September.

It’s late in the evening and hot as hell, making everyone extremely on edge. When Ada finally gets the nerve to tell Wesker she wants a divorce everything goes to shit—yelling, swearing, even breaking stuff ensues. Wesker, not realizing Ada’s been cheating on him with a girl, turns his aggression towards Luis—which causes Leon to step in and put himself between Wesker and Luis who are yelling at each other back and forth; with Wesker accusing Luis of sleeping with Ada (false). Alice put herself between Ada and the others, making sure Ada’s okay who’s more worried about Luis and Leon by this point than herself.

When the heat dies down, Wesker finally agrees to the divorce making everyone relax. He doesn’t look anybody in the eyes as he tells Ada it’s late, and it’s probably a good idea to get home. Ada agrees and turns to Luis, nodding for him to leave with her (after everything she’d rather not expose her relationship with Alice until she’s good as gone.)

Leon and Alice help Wesker clean up, Leon feeling horrible for the staff at the hotel but not feeling as bad when Wesker’s the one paying for the damage. They all go home Wesker’s car with tense and uncomfortable silence.

On the way home they spot Chris talking to a bunch of police officers, Wesker pulls over without a second thought and walks over to Chris after the policeman walk away. Alice stays in the car as Leon gets out to see what the deal was.

He gets close enough to hear Wesker ask what’s happening and Chris replies that Jill was struck by a car, thankfully she’s alive but her leg was crushed in the process. Leon winces at the look on Chris’ face and he swore he saw Wesker’s own expression falter.

Wesker sits down next to Chris, patting him on the shoulder as he asks more questions. Leon’s heart rate spikes as Chris talks about the details of the car—it perfectly matched the description of Luis’ car, the one he and Ada drove home in.

Wesker and Leon exchange looks, both swallowing awkwardly as Wesker pushes himself to his feet. He nods to Leon and Leon, not wanting to argue again, obliges and heads back to the car. Chris and Wesker talked for a while longer before Wesker joins Alice and Leon in the car again.

They drive back to the house, with Wesker heading inside first, offering for Leon and Alice to come in and they politely decline. Wesker seems understanding, nodding and disappearing inside the house.

Leon and Alice take a walk around the house, discussing what could have happened or why they didn’t stop, only to run into Luis hiding in the garden.

He explained the truth, Ada had been the one driving and she tried to swerve at the same time Jill tried to run out of the way to avoid hitting her but it had been too late and they hit her. Ada seemed stone cold; unable to slow the vehicle down as Luis begs her to pull over.

Luis’ shoulders visibly relax when Leon explains Jill is okay just a broken leg. Alice pats Luis on the shoulder, telling him to go home with Leon and she’ll wait around to make sure Ada’s okay.

Leon and Luis walk home, talking. Leon trying to lift Luis’ guilt slightly by the time they’re at Luis’ house. It’s quiet and all the maids and butlers must have gone home already. Leon locks the door behind him and Luis, before grabbing Luis by the hips and pushing him against the wall—lips pressed together. A groan is pulled from Luis’ lips as Leon’s hands drift up his shirt, Leon promising to make him forget the pain of tonight.

The next morning, while still naked on the couch, they wake up to a knock at the door. They quickly throw on their clothes before Luis answers the door. His face lights up as he sees Ada and Alice with Ada’s bags, asking if it’s alright if they stay in one of his spare bedrooms for a few nights which Luis is more than welcome too.

Leon gets started on breakfast while the others help Ada settle into one of the spares.

#Serennedy x TGG #EVERYTHING is subject to change btw!! still very much a work in progress

[lawyeronabike]

Book Talk #2: The Mind of Jay Gatsby

A traditional reading of The Great Gatsby focuses on what the novel teaches us about class, bigotry, and the American Dream. It's an important reading, but one that is already well worn. I'm going to assume you are already familiar with it and/or can research it when you feel like it. But this post is not about that reading.

I want to talk about the characters of The Great Gatsby, not as devices to advance theme or plot, but as whole, fleshed out people who are still compelling a near century after being written. So I ask...

What makes Gatsby tick? Why is he the way he is? He has a perfectly normal problem: he wants this girl. He has an absolutely puzzling solution. Throw massive parties. Let’s investigate.

Some people think it’s just the premise of the book, and must be accepted. Some people take Nick Carraway’s view, that Gatsby’s gift for hope is to be romanticized, admired, and protected. I don’t. I think that Jay Gastsby is neither some tragic hero or a plot premise to remain unquestioned. Upon my most recent reading of The Great Gatsby, I discovered a new headcanon that better explains his behavior than any I’ve heard before.

Jay Gatsby is autistic.

Yes I’m playing armchair psychologist. No I’m not qualified. It’s fine, because this a fictional character. Also, it’s a good conversation starter. I’m not the first to think of this (shoutout to tumblr users @thegreatgatsbyglitters & @confirmedpsycho, and @thegreatsandwich on aO3) but it’s not often discussed. It gets far less discussion than the “Nick is gay” reading (which I also buy). So let’s see if we can remedy this.

So the CDC lists the DSM-5 diagnostic criteria for autism. It seems as good as any place to start.

The three main requirements are as such:

Persistent deficits in social communication and social interaction across multiple contexts, as manifested by the following, currently or by history (examples are illustrative, not exhaustive; see text):

Deficits in social-emotional reciprocity, ranging, for example, from abnormal social approach and failure of normal back-and-forth conversation; to reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect; to failure to initiate or respond to social interactions.

Deficits in nonverbal communicative behaviors used for social interaction, ranging, for example, from poorly integrated verbal and nonverbal communication; to abnormalities in eye contact and body language or deficits in understanding and use of gestures; to a total lack of facial expressions and nonverbal communication.

Deficits in developing, maintaining, and understanding relationships, ranging, for example, from difficulties adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts; to difficulties in sharing imaginative play or in making friends; to absence of interest in peers.

And compare them against the evidence in the book

1. If throwing giant parties to attract the attention of your beloved isn’t “abnormal approach,” I don’t know what it. Furthermore, when Gatsby decides to escalate attempts, he decides to ask Jordan Baker to ask Nick if he will have Daisy over for tea so Gatsby can drop in.

Pictured Above: A perfectly straightforward and reasonable way to get a girl's attention

2. This is most prominently seen in chapter six. Tom and his two riding friends, the Sloanes, arrive at Gatsby’s house on horseback unannounced. Gatsby invites them inside, which is declined. Mrs. Sloane then invites Nick and Gatsby to a dinner party.

Gatsby looked at me questioningly. He wanted to go and he didn’t see that Mr Sloane had determined he shouldn’t.‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to,’ I said. ‘Well, you come,’ she urged, concentrating on Gatsby.

Here, Nick is flat out telling us that the invitation was only extended to be polite, and that Gatsby didn’t realize this. He heard the words, and failed to notice all the other social cues that were saying he shouldn’t accept. He accepts the invitation.

3. Difficulties in adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts. Gatsby has a hard time interacting in a friendly, social setting, and treats a lot of his encounters like business deals. Here’s a clear example.

Nick has just agreed to host Daisy for dinner, just as Gatsby requested. Gatsby then proceeds to offer Nick the chance to make some money. Gatsby sees this as repaying the debt he owes to Nick, and has a hard time comprehending that Nick is doing a favor for a friend.

‘Well, this would interest you. It wouldn’t take up much of your time and you might pick up a nice bit of money. It happens to be a rather confidential sort of thing.’

I realize now that under different circumstances that conversation might have been one of the crises of my life. But, because the offer was obviously and tactlessly for a service to be rendered, I had no choice except to cut him off there.

A diagnoses also requires two of the following four:

1. Stereotyped or repetitive motor movements, use of objects, or speech (e.g., simple motor stereotypes, lining up toys or flipping objects, echolalia, idiosyncratic phrases).

2. Insistence on sameness, inflexible adherence to routines, or ritualized patterns of verbal or nonverbal behavior (e.g., extreme distress at small changes, difficulties with transitions, rigid thinking patterns, greeting rituals, need to take same route or eat same food every day).

3. Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus (e.g., strong attachment to or preoccupation with unusual objects, excessively circumscribed or perseverative interests).

4. Hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input or unusual interest in sensory aspects of the environment (e.g. apparent indifference to pain/temperature, adverse response to specific sounds or textures, excessive smelling or touching of objects, visual fascination with lights or movement).

Gatsby fits all four.

The strongest evidence I saw for this is that Gatsby says “Old Sport” a lot.

2. We find evidence for this right at the end of the book. Gatsby’s dad shows a schedule Jay made for himself as a teenager. It plots out his time from 6AM to 9PM.

3. This should prove to be the most controversial subclaim in this post. Some people with autism fixate on trains. Some fixate on dinosaurs. Many autistic people have a singular, overriding interest. I argue that Gatsby’s autistic fixation is Daisy, or rather, the idea of her.

4. Hypersensitivity to sounds. Gatsby spends a remarkably little amount of time at his own parties. He usually is happy to leave the raucous festivities to others. He just hosts. One way to interpret this is an aversion to loud noises, often common for people on the autism spectrum.

One other thing, Gatsby is a bad liar. Holes in in backstory emerge throughout the book as he tells it to Tom or Nick. Furthermore, he can’t even convincingly tell Nick that he was the one driving the car that killed Myrtle. Nick figures out pretty quickly that it was Daisy. This supports a reading of autistic Jay Gatsby because many autistic people don’t realize all the nonverbal signs that give away liars, so they can’t fix them in their own performance when they try to lie.

Why does it matter?

First off, representation matters, but it also affects the themes of the story. His pining over Daisy becomes much less romanticized and much more pitiable. In chapter one, Nick describes Gatsby -

It was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness such as I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again.

More objectively, it could be described as the curse of hope, haunted by a nostalgia for things that never were, and a future that can never be. It is a ceaseless need for the unattainable, a self inflicted torture that can end only varying degrees of sorrow. In this way, The Great Gatsby becomes not just a story of themes and ideas, but of realistic people.

It explains why Gatsby refuses to accept that the past cannot be repeated, that Daisy has a new life and is oblivious to the fact that Nick is in love with him (like I said earlier, this interpretation makes a lot of sense to me).

The first time I read this book, it was a story about the American Dream, about prejudice, and about love. It still is all that, but now, I also see a story about flawed human beings, and about how we all, for better or worse, run amok, changing the course of each other's lives. Seeing all this on a subsequent reading encourages me to read more carefully in the future, to distrust narrators (don't implicitly accept their point of view), and be more quick to notice what kind of people are involved in the story. There are queer and neurodivergent characters in places you might not expect, including the foremost novel of the jazz age.

And if you still don’t believe this theory, I encourage you to mindfully read the book again. It’s not long. You will probably even find evidence I overlooked. Besides, you’re probably overdue to reread it anyway.

#the great gatsby #nick carraway #jay gatsby #autsitic #autism #neurodiversity #neurodivergent #literature #erasure #representation matters #media representation #classic literature

[thateclecticbitch]

Not to be a old books written by crusty white men fan on main, but most classic novels they make you read in school instantly become 10x more interesting when you enterpret them as being gay as fuck.

The Great Gatsby? A fucking snooze fest. That is until you find the Nick Caraway Is Gay Theory online. And then when you dig deeper you find the even more interesting theory that Jay Gatsby is biracial and bisexual. And then you discover yet another theory that Jordan Baker is biracial and sapphic. All of which add layers of depth to the motivations of the characters in an otherwise fairly bland story. BTW these are all serious academic theories (that have been around since the 60s. The SIXTIES!) Based on and validated by textual evidence, and not just the silly whims of horny girls on fanfiction dot come (although there is a bit of a fandom pressence).

And the best part? Now that The Great Gatsby is public domain, people have been legally publishing and selling their gay fanfiction in bookstores. Its like every month there's a new TGG AU being published, and I've bought all of them. I can purchase physical bound copy of one of my favorite fanfictions where Nick and Jay live in a house together and have basically adopted Daisy's daughter, Pam, who is sapphic and has the androgyn insensitivity intersex variation. I read the original, much shorter, version on AO3 years ago, and now it's an actual book. It's called The Pursued And The Pursuing.

So yeah, put some homosexual imagination into your highschool lit class and it might just be tolerable.

#Not to be a classic lit fan on main #But listen #It's a very niche fandom #Which means there minimal wank and drama #It may be scarce but it's also golden #Nothing but banger after banger it's bonkers #The Great Gatsby #Literature #Classic lit #classic literature #I'm gay as in happy and queer as in fu queue #The more queue know

[rockislandadultreads]

Historical Fiction: Best of 2022 releases

Beautiful Little Fools by Jillian Cantor

On a sultry August day in 1922, Jay Gatsby is shot dead in his West Egg swimming pool. To the police, it appears to be an open-and-shut case of murder/suicide when the body of George Wilson, a local mechanic, is found in the woods nearby. Then a diamond hairpin is discovered in the bushes by the pool, and three women fall under suspicion. Each holds a key that can unlock the truth to the mysterious life and death of this enigmatic millionaire. Daisy Buchanan once thought she might marry Gatsby—before her family was torn apart by an unspeakable tragedy that sent her into the arms of the philandering Tom Buchanan. Jordan Baker, Daisy’s best friend, guards a secret that derailed her promising golf career and threatens to ruin her friendship with Daisy as well. Catherine McCoy, a suffragette, fights for women’s freedom and independence, and especially for her sister, Myrtle Wilson, who’s trapped in a terrible marriage. Their stories unfold in the years leading up to that fateful summer of 1922, when all three of their lives are on the brink of unraveling. Each woman is pulled deeper into Jay Gatsby’s romantic obsession, with devastating consequences for all of them.

Peach Blossom Spring by Melissa Fu

"Within every misfortune there is a blessing and within every blessing, the seeds of misfortune, and so it goes, until the end of time." It is 1938 in China and, as a young wife, Meilin’s future is bright. But with the Japanese army approaching, Meilin and her four year old son, Renshu, are forced to flee their home. Relying on little but their wits and a beautifully illustrated hand scroll, filled with ancient fables that offer solace and wisdom, they must travel through a ravaged country, seeking refuge. Years later, Renshu has settled in America as Henry Dao. Though his daughter is desperate to understand her heritage, he refuses to talk about his childhood. How can he keep his family safe in this new land when the weight of his history threatens to drag them down? Yet how can Lily learn who she is if she can never know her family’s story? Spanning continents and generations, Peach Blossom Spring is a bold and moving look at the history of modern China, told through the story of one family. It’s about the power of our past, the hope for a better future, and the haunting question: What would it mean to finally be home?

Four Treasures of the Sky by Jenny Tinghui Zhang

Daiyu never wanted to be like the tragic heroine for whom she was named, revered for her beauty and cursed with heartbreak. But when she is kidnapped and smuggled across an ocean from China to America, Daiyu must relinquish the home and future she imagined for herself. Over the years that follow, she is forced to keep reinventing herself to survive. From a calligraphy school, to a San Francisco brothel, to a shop tucked into the Idaho mountains, we follow Daiyu on a desperate quest to outrun the tragedy that chases her. As anti-Chinese sentiment sweeps across the country in a wave of unimaginable violence, Daiyu must draw on each of the selves she has been—including the ones she most wants to leave behind—in order to finally claim her own name and story. At once a literary tour de force and a groundbreaking work of historical fiction, Four Treasures of the Sky announces Jenny Tinghui Zhang as an indelible new voice. Steeped in untold history and Chinese folklore, this novel is a spellbinding feat.

Woman of Light by Kali Fajardo-Anstine

"There is one every generation--a seer who keeps the stories." Luz "Little Light" Lopez, a tea leaf reader and laundress, is left to fend for herself after her older brother, Diego, a snake charmer and factory worker, is run out of town by a violent white mob. As Luz navigates 1930's Denver on her own, she begins to have visions that transport her to her Indigenous homeland in the nearby Lost Territory. Luz recollects her ancestors' origins, how her family flourished and how they were threatened. She bears witness to the sinister forces that have devastated her people and their homelands for generations. In the end, it is up to Luz to save her family stories from disappearing into oblivion. Written in Kali Fajardo-Anstine's singular voice, the wildly entertaining and complex lives of the Lopez family fill the pages of this multigenerational western saga. Woman of Light is a transfixing novel about survival, family secrets, and love, filled with an unforgettable cast of characters, all of whom are just as special, memorable, and complicated as our beloved heroine, Luz.

#historical fiction #historical stories #history #to read #tbr #booklr #booktok #book blog #reading recommendations #Book Recommendations #books to read #library books #best books 2022 #highly recommend #Highly Rated #books to check out

[brainrawt]

Billy and Jordan 5x11 - my thoughts

Obviously I am very sad to see Billy go, but in this particular episode I was just feeling so fond of Jordan that it was compromising my grieving process for Billy. Jordan was kind of perfect in this episode. He wanted to help mend Billy's relationship with Spencer, his scene with Layla was cute, his scene with his family in the beginning was funny. When Spencer asked Jordan “Whose side are you on?” and without a beat he answered “My sister” I melted a little, team Baker Twins will do it for me every time. Jordan as a brother to Liv is my favourite him and when he says these things he’s very earnest. When Billy dropped the Crenshaw bomb on him, we all held our breath for his reaction but he was very mature and just wanted his dad to be happy. We can imagine how high school Jordan would have reacted. Best boy vibes all around. 

Now I accept and honestly expect that Billy favours Spencer over Jordan, that the show will prioritise their relationship every time, that Jordan will be third best of Billy’s two kids forever, and whatever Jordan has been searching for from his father his whole life, he will never achieve. This is not something I get too bogged down about, I think viewers should know their show and manage their expectations or you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. Somehow, I’m still disappointed. 

I think their last episode together was sweet, unfortunately everything good about it came from Jordan and not from Billy. I find Billy changing his mind about Crenshaw and telling his new team before Jordan just so despicable! When Billy told him as the first person about the GAU offer in 5x08, Jordan was over the moon. We literally watched things shift for Jordan before our eyes by those words. Personally, I got so hopeful that we might be entering a new chapter for them. To be valued like that by Billy is all Jordan ever wanted, he can’t talk about his future without mentioning Billy. His time capsule dream was “a life that makes my Dad proud.” He also promised to be the coach that Jordan needs and deserves. Jordan was so happy he was going around for days calling it top 2 best things in his life. Throughout his struggle with accepting the GAU job, Jordan only encouraged and supported him to do what’s best for him. Jordan had offers from amazing schools and Billy left him stranded. So let's run through this: Jordan was excited for his dad to be his coach, so naturally Billy had to reiterate in his voicemail, he wanted the job to be Spencer’s coach again. Jordan was excited his dad confided in him with his decision first, so naturally Billy had to make sure he told his team next time. Jordan wanted to support his dad through this new job, so naturally it took a conversation with Spencer to change Billy’s mind right on the spot. These feel like deliberate kicks at Jordan. 

I’m not done. Later in the episode, we hear about how much Billy loved coaching Asher and he was one of his favourite players. When asked to speak on the topic of fatherhood, aside from not knowing anything about parenting which is whatever as we’ve established the absentee father thing multiple times, he only recalls a memory of Olivia. I genuinely expected him to mention Jordan in this conversation once and my bar for Billy is in the gutter. And then back to the phone call, we hear how Billy feels like a father to Spencer. All sweet moments for the respective character but more kicks to me. 

I love the part where they talk about Layla, one of the best scenes ever. I do count this as a Jordayla scene, not a Jordan/Billy scene, hello Layla was pulling the weight here not Billy. I am glad they had the moment of course, it made me so happy how happy Jordan was. He is so content from his relationship with Layla that he is able to handle Billy, and I’m glad for him. When Jordan smiled and shrugged off Billy’s offer to make calls for him, I only felt sad. I think the showmakers count this one scene as it for them. 

What was it for? Making Jordan (and I) hopeful about their relationship and the mini “whose my guy?” arc, what was it for? We reiterate time and time again how important Billy is to Jordan, I just can’t understand how we are going to remove him without ever reaching any kind of conclusion there. In some way it makes sense, Billy going out the way he lived his life…

I am not a monster, I do have other more sympathetic thoughts about Billy’s death. This post just addresses the Jordan of it all. Perhaps if we were not teased with the potential of a better relationship, I’d heard the word “proud” from Billy once and Jordan had not been a cutie this ep, I might have been able to let Billy rest in peace, unfortunately I cannot let that happen. 

#all american #jordan baker #billy baker #jordayla #aau