#jess thayer

[song-witch]

Make You Feel

Pairing: Taylor Sloane (Ingrid Goes West) x Jess Thayer (Rough Night)

Word Count: 3,126

Warnings: Age Gaps (Jess is 34, Taylor is 25), Pre-Smut, Slight Choking, Spanking, Daddy Kink, Possessiveness, hints of Jealousy, Angst | 18+, Minors DNI

Summary: With a private charity event set to help Jess in the upcoming election, Taylor decides there's not enough fun at the party. It's no more than a publicity stunt, after all.

A/N: This was written for and inspired by @cthulhus-curse! This is our little rarepair and I love them dearly.

Jess sighed upon taking another sip from her martini. She had been listening to this man blabber on for upwards of an hour, yet he hadn’t said a single thing to spark her interest. Had this appearance not been so crucial to her reelection, she thinks she might’ve left hours ago. She probably wouldn’t have shown up in the first place if she were entirely honest.

It was something she hated about being in the public eye. She had to be so conscientious of what she said and did, and even then, it would still be picked apart by people who hated her. Years of self-criticism led to her hard exterior, it was critical as a politician. That didn’t mean she liked it, though.

So she continued to attend these… publicity stunts, for lack of a better term. It was part of the job and for the pretty penny she was paid, she would continue to deal with arrogant, old white men. Even if she was fairly certain she would get wrinkles at the ripe age of 34.

Forcing her mind back to the conversation, Jess swallowed harshly, nodding her head. “I hate to cut this sort, gentlemen, but I do have others to attend to.” The short-haired blonde gave a very fake laugh to accompany her words, as if it would lessen the blow of her leaving. The woman smiled as she stood, allowing their words to filter in and out of her head once again, pushing her way out of the circle she was in.

Filtering through the people who lingered about was easy enough, stepping out into the small, thankfully empty, balcony. Jess set her glass down on the railing, inhaling the sweet crispness of the fall air, her eyes watching the still-setting sun. Despite the fact that it was nearing 8 pm, the sky was painted something akin to a Bob Ross painting, with deep oranges and pinks.

She was thankful for the cool breeze and her cropped hair, meaning all of the wind hit her, rather than her hair. Jess paid no attention to the clicking of heels, knowing there were only a handful of people brave enough to follow her outside. “Fancy seeing you here, miss senator.” And yet, of the ones she expected, the soft Californian Valley Girl of her girlfriend was the least expected.

“Seeing as how we were both invited, fancy is not the word I would use to describe you following me.” Without looking back, Jess brought her glass to her lips, sipping the vodka-based drink. The chill of the air was more present than the one of her lemon drop martini, though she was hardly complaining as she finished it off. “Stalker is more your style.”

“Well excuse me for wanting to make sure my senator girlfriend is okay.” The blonde scoffed, moving to stand next to the older woman. She shivered in her short black number, jacket long forgotten in some coat closet, Malibu Sunset clenched tightly in her hand. Rather than wrap her arms around the taller one as she would in the privacy of their home, she instead sidled up next to her, their arms just barely touching as she set her glass next to the other’s.

Jessica only scoffed, shaking her head. “Stalker.” She whispered with a coy smirk, dropping her elbows to lean against the railing, finally looking at the younger woman. Heels that she insisted on wearing, even though Jess had said otherwise multiple times. It had led to the younger nearly being bent over her knee, only being saved by a call from her Uber driver of all people. She would be the first to say they accentuated her legs, though.

Sweeping up her legs that seemed to go on for much longer than miles, she resisted the urge to reach out and tug her dress down, the material barely reaching midthigh. The material wasn’t an issue. She rather liked seeing the girl in short, silk dresses. The issue was not only how short it was, but how she seemed to parade around, knowing her tits and ass were out. Jess had found it funny at first, given the fact that they were attending a “high-end charity, cocktail event,” whatever that was supposed to mean. As the night progressed, though, the cockiness of the younger woman had only fueled the rage she spent hours mustering away.

“You love it.” Taylor Sloane’s teasing pulled her out of her self-induced reverie, a shit-eating smirk accompanying her features. Her hair waved behind her in the breeze, the sun giving the slight tan she had developed over the summer a soft glow accentuated by her makeup. The angle she was leaning against the railing at made it more than easy to look down her dress, hardly anything covered.

“I don’t love being stalked.” Both had had their fair share of creepy paparazzi on more than one occasion. It wasn’t something they talked about often, though the thought hung heavy in the air. Reaching for her glass, Jess took a long look at the woman, clearing her throat. “And put your tits away.”

Taylor smiled cheekily, seemingly leaning forward even more. It was as if she were trying to get on Jess’ already high-strung nerves, though two could play at that game. “I thought you liked them, Daddy.” She emphasized the final word, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Shut. Up.” Jess held the glass tighter in her grip, turning away from the woman. She left without another word, leaving the younger behind to fix herself. It would still be hours before they would be home, though they were both certain they would see each other again. The moods the two would be in, however, were a lot less certain.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Jess watched as the younger posed against the wall, some man taking photos of her. She knew Taylor was doing it on purpose; the fact that they had made eye contact multiple times was more than enough of an indicator. Yet still, it pissed the senator off beyond comparison, barely thinking it over before she was marching up to the young woman. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Taking pictures. What does it look like I’m doing?” Taylor only rolled her eyes, continuing to pose. She bent forward, much like she had earlier, barely any fabric hiding her tits. A smirk was thrown Jess’ way, a kiss at the man.

“That’s enough. I can take it from here.” Jess reached for the phone, shooing the man away in a move that was less than polite. She pocketed the girl’s phone, stopping the impromptu photo session within seconds. “Let me ask again, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Like I said, taking pictures.” Taylor scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Sure, she had asked a rando to take her pictures in an attempt to get the woman to her, though she wasn’t impressed it had backfired so quickly. She rolled her eyes, blowing air from her pursed lips.

“Taking pictures like a slut?” Jess scoffed, fixing the woman with a glare. Taylor had a tendency to brat out, especially when she wanted attention, though this was unusual, even for her. “We’re at a charity event and you’re slutting yourself out for a random man?”

“Oh please, I wasn’t slutting myself out. You’re just jealous.” Taylor rolled her eyes, reaching up to play with a strand of her hair. She knew she was in trouble, even before they had left the house. Why not play it up a bit? The only thing that could happen would be another punishment, and she was more than willing to pay that price.

“Jealous of what?” Jessica pressed, stepping closer to the woman. Their chests were nearly touching, the world around them fading to soft blurs. In this moment it was only them and the tension between them. She would’ve found it hot if they were at home, though she was far more fed up than amused.

“Jealous of the fact that I’m getting more attention than you.” The word ‘bitch’ mumbled under her breath, squinting her eyes at the woman. She knew those words would do it, by the way the older woman’s body tensed. She took a step closer, their noses now practically touching.

“Quit being a fucking brat.” Jess spit out as she grabbed the dirty blonde’s wrist, stopping her from walking away. As the number of warnings she got went up, the patience the senator had got lower. She was lucky they were at a very public, very important event, or she’d have been bent over hours ago.

“Then quit being a fucking bitch.” Taylor snarled right back, with possibly more venom than needed. She didn’t care, though. There was no reason for Jess to be as pushy as she was. Why couldn’t she take photos to post later if she wanted to?

“Excuse me?” The older grasped her wrist harder as she tried to walk away again, this time not letting her grip loosen. She was shocked to hear those words, especially after the talk they had earlier. Jess glanced around them, assuring they weren’t being watched, before pulling the girl closer. “Would you like to say that again? And watch your fucking attitude.”

“Then you,” Taylor met the woman with the same intensity, the pointer on her free hand coming up to poke at the woman’s chest, “stop being a fucking bitch.” She crossed her arms over her chest, meeting the same intensity that the other woman held. She was fed up. All of her attempts to gain her attention had gone to waste, shrugged off as if she were nothing.

“Let’s go.” Jess would be damned if anyone saw them, too focused on taking care of the girl to even care. She dragged her to the bathroom, practically throwing her inside the small room. “Fucing brat.” The short-haired woman snarled, turning to face the door. She inhaled deeply before turning around, ignoring the ‘what the fuck’ thrown at her.

Jessica locked the door behind her, a sense of cockiness filling her as she did. Taylor would face the consequences of her actions, publicity be damned. “You have about two seconds to apologize before I give you something to whine about.” Her hand almost immediately threaded through the younger’s hair, settling at the base of her skull and pulling upwards.

“Apologize for what? I wasn’t the one being a bitch.” Taylor scoffed, yanking her head back in an attempt to have her hair dropped. It didn’t work and only encouraged the older to pull harder, which in turn made the younger struggle just slightly against her grasp.

“I said: apologize, whore.” Jess grasped her hair harder, a gasp pulled from the younger woman’s throat. She knew how easy it was to rile up the blonde and vice versa. If she wanted to be a bitch, two could play that game.

“Fucking bitch.” Taylor spit at the woman’s heeled feet, actually spit, a flame in her eye that wouldn’t go away. She practically snarled, rolling her eyes and tossing her hair back, effectively pulling the older woman’s hand out of her hair.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” The words just barely resonated with the blonde before her head jerked to the side, falling to her knees, pain blooming throughout her cheek. The same hand that had slapped her, Taylor knew due to the warmth and slight buzzing that seemed to connect them, pulled her face back over and up, not giving her time to even react to the hit. Fire blazed behind her eyes as they stared up at Jess, her chest heaving.

“Cunt.” The speed at which two fingers were forcefully shoved down the younger’s throat was enough to make her choke, the acrylics of the older woman’s nails easily hitting the back of her throat. Despite the fact that Taylor was the best little cocksucker Jess had found, and she had had her fair share of free trials, she loved how easily it was to make her gag. The sound she made was enough by itself to turn her on, though the feeling was exquisite too.

“You keep running that goddamn mouth thinking I’m not going to do anything, huh?” Jess raised both of her eyebrows as her face tilted down just slightly, fixing the younger with a questioning look. Her hand followed where the blonde whipped her head back and forth in an attempt to dislodge her fingers. Even as Taylor’s hands came up to grasp her wrist and push it away, she continued to press forward.

“What? Too dumb to say anything back?” The taller woman faked sympathy, pouting condescendingly. She pushed her fingers forward before pulling them out, a sense of pride filling her as she watched the girl bend forward, hair falling in front of her face as she coughed. With a coo, Jess squatted, reaching through a curtain of blonde hair to tilt her chin up, meeting a pair of rage, and lust, filled eyes.

Taylor glared at the older though her vision swam with a mix of tears and arousal, grinding her teeth together. “Fuck. You.” The influencer spat through her teeth, her chest heaving. She knew she was going to be punished, if Jess’ earlier threats weren’t obvious enough, the unmistakable anger on her face was more than enough to send any man to their knees.

Jess’ nose twitched, her throat tightening as her hand traveled down the blonde’s neck, easily closing against it. “You just don’t fucking learn, do you?” She stood, not letting go of the younger as she did so, instead pulling her up and allowing her to dangle for a moment before dragging her towards the sink. The woman was thrown over the porcelain, her head bouncing off said counter with a resounding thud.

Taylor whimpered at the pain spiraling through her head, attempting to stand and reach for her head, only to be stopped by the politician. Jess easily grabbed the younger’s wrists, holding them behind her back, her free hand pressing down between her shoulder blades. “Don’t even fucking think about it, slut.”

“Ow.” The dirty blonde half whimpered, half moaned against the sink, squirming in her place. She was more than aware of the senator’s hands pushing the skirt of her dress up, a spank accompanying the motion. “What the fuck!” She yelped, though more from shock than pain.

“You wanna act like a fucking slut, you get punished like a fucking slut.” Was all Jess said as her free hand tugged the girl’s lacy thong down, bending over to pick it up and study it for a second. “Fucking pathetic. Getting off on your punishment. Whore.” The cropped-haired woman shoved them in the pocket of her pants, before another slap against the younger’s behind rang out through the room.

“Stop!” Taylor pushed her hips forward, trying to escape the slaps against her ass. It was futile, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Her hands were held behind her and there was no way she could squirm away, not with how high her heels were. It would most likely lead to her toppling over and she didn’t want to hit her head for a second time that night.

“You don’t get a say in this, bitch. So I suggest you start counting before I start over.” Jess threatened, her hand coming down yet again. She waited for Taylor to yelp out the word one, mere seconds before her hand came down again. She never hit the same spot twice, alternating both cheek and power with each hit. It had the younger crying by the twelfth hit, a mess of tears and whimpers.

Jess’ hand came down hard on the blonde’s ass, the sharp resounding slap of skin on skin reverberating through the small bathroom. She waited, curling her fingers until her nails dug into the soft flesh they rested on. “If you sto-” The woman was cut off by a wail from the younger, her form shaking with poorly hidden sobs.

“N-nineteen!” Taylor nearly screamed, rocking between her feet under the other’s harsh gaze. Her entire body shook with how hard she was sobbing, a mixture of tears and snot running down her face. She hardly even cared about how smudged she knew her makeup would be, able to see globs of black streaked across her cheeks, another product of her punishment, no doubt.

“Good.” Was all Jess said before her hand came down one last time, landing squarely on the girl’s already sensitive sit spot. She couldn’t care less about how loud they were being, far more focused on beating the brat out of the girl bent over in front of her. She watched with satisfaction as the girl yelped, her body quivering with the way she sunk against the sink. “Number.”

Taylor grasped at the faucet, her knuckles white with how strong she was holding it as tears continued to fall down her cheeks. “T-” She was cut off by a sob, pressing her face against her arm. It took her another sob before she spit the word out. “Twenty.”

“Good girl, Taylor.” Jess gently pulled the girl off of the sink, gathering her in her arms before sitting on the floor. Taylor clung to her almost instantly, her face slotting against her neck, fists grasping at her shirt. “It’s all done, baby. You’re okay.” The older woman murmured against her ear, holding her tight against her body.

“Good girl, Tay. You’re my good girl.” Jess hushed the girl, running her fingers through the loose curls cascading down her back. The younger continued to sob, her entire body flinching with how violent they were. Jess rocked back and forth just slightly, attempting to soothe her in any way possible. “My good girl, taking her punishment so well. Such a good girl.”

The short-haired woman swayed until the younger’s sobs subsided, though she didn’t let her go right away. “Look at me, Tay.” Jess prompted softly, using the hand still carding through long hair to gently tilt her head back. She waited until the dirty blonde did so, smiling softly at the girl. “You’re such a good girl, Taylor, even if you were acting up today. Now, you’re gonna get your Uber and I’ll meet you at home, okay baby girl?”

"Okay.” Taylor hiccuped softly, pushing her chin back into the woman’s neck. Neither of them cared about how much time passed, sitting on the floor of the bathroom, merely basking in each other. Jess ultimately had to force the younger up, helping her clean her makeup before sending her off, a kiss against her lips as a silent promise that she wouldn’t be long.

#Taylor Sloaned x Jess Thayer #taylor sloane #jess thayer #ingrid goes west #rough night

[widowpunx]

TulumiNATY VS Frequency 🔥🔥

1 AM I HEAR YOUR SOUND

2 I DANCE AROUND

3 AM I AM SO FREE

4 AM I FEEL YOUR FREQUENCY

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

#scarlett johansson #scarlettjohansson edit #techno #techno music #techno sounds #rough night #jess thayer #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #tuluminati vs frequency #spartaque vs dakota #trippy sounds

[me-uglypretty]

Calling my first

Pairing: Jess Thayer x F!Reader

Summary: Jess finds herself in a mess, and the first call she makes is one she has avoided for years or where she finally confess to her true love.

Warning: 18+ (G), past angst, fluff, mention of death stripper | 3385 Words

| J.T. Masterlist | Notify | Navigation |

The perfect bachelorette doesn’t exist.

It surely doesn’t, right?

Someone is bound to spew drunken words at another or falling face first on brittle ground. A little chaos here and there. The usual amount assisted by alcohol, most often fixable, just normal celebration things. But this specific bachelorette, joined by close friends and hosted specially for Jess—a murderous disaster in the making.

“There’s a dead body!”

He was a stripper. Booked online by Frankie, after Blair’s drunken idea of surprising their soon to be married friend. Alice was truly enjoying herself at that trivial moment. If Jess didn’t want him, then she would happily immerse herself in an attractive man. Till the rushed occasion pushes the man over, falling on back from the chair and leaving a bloody mess on the ground. Pippa mumbled something about a dream while the rest lose their sanity over the bloody scene.

It takes them various tries to solve the matter. A call with a lawyer, fail attempts in disposing the body, pretending to stay calm while clearly appearing more tense than before. And never forgetting Blair’s taking the biggest step for the team by sleeping with their neighbours. For the fucking tape of which security camera doesn’t function.

But worse of all—after the horrid argument between Jess and Alice, such a disaster to witness two friends argue about their friendship—was the faux officers threatening their life. The television outed their criminal status, alongside the dead stripper which isn’t a stripper.

Basically, they were harbouring the body of a known criminal while facing the possible death of their own.

Jess wasn’t aware of the developing chaos downstairs. She was too preoccupied bathing herself in guilt and shielding that with the reason to make herself presentable for her first mugshot. Giving up was the easier thing she had ever done. Her dreams flushed down the drain. Never to meet reality ever again.

A friends’ gateway slash bachelorette became a professing disaster. If not death, a friendship surely met its end. And the taunting feeling in her chest that her decision might cause the downfall of everything.

Not entirely on the dead body mocking their freedom. Though, that was just as bad.

But the sheer reminder that she was to marry Peter.

A loveable man and he’s just too kind for his own good.

Jess couldn’t utter negativity about him because he was perfect. Always readily falling on his knees for her, perching up to hear every word that fell from her mouth, changing his entire schedule around for her, and his life—seems to only revolve around Jess.

As if, she was God and the religion which he forever promises his devotion.

And the nagging sound prodding the back of her head.

Sweet laughter surfacing, glimmering eyes luring her in, hands so smooth to touch, words that sticks to her mind, and twirls around her heart—of you, so beautiful you, so sweet, so lovely, so caring, and so everything that she wish for.

“Stop thinking about someone who isn’t your future husband,” Jess grumbled to herself. “It’s not right. That’s— it’s cheating, isn’t it?” she helplessly stares into her reflection, expecting an answer to appear on the cloudy mirror.

Jess thought of you first, when the idea of bachelorette was proposed.

Miami was the last location you mumbled to her—as she sinfully moaned your name, when your fingers enter her so proficiently, and her eyes shutting close, clutching your body as she feels the familiar warmth resurfacing below her stomach. You knew her body far better than she does sometimes, and you proudly declare, all arrogant with a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

The chance of studying abroad awarded her vast experience, meeting new friends, embarking on the search for her future, learning of cultures different from hers, and you; someone she kept in secret.

You were hers to name, simply everything she needed in that young age of discovering life, while you held her close to your head. Cruising together in a land that neither knew, but it was perfect that way. A thrilling chill of unknowing.

A week before she left Australia, you promised her something.

Confession of love spilling from your mouth, helpless and honest. The promise to stay by her side, wherever that may be. Miami was your family’s dream, as you had said countless of times before. But your heart yearns for something else, and you knew her heart pulse for the same.

Jess was a coward then, a coward still, and she hated to admit it.

Before allowing your promise to fully engulf her whole, she left you gaping at the empty space across the table. Missed dates followed. The loving glance across the room was ignored. She pushed you advances to know why she acted so differently.

It was simply her head’s doing, she’d excused.

A cowardly reaction.

Afraid of what others may say. Afraid of her friends’ reaction to her sudden declaration. Lies fed into her thoughts by her own doing. In the last graze of honesty, Jess was afraid of falling in love and promising her life to someone as wonderful as you. She was afraid of running the blossoming joy in her heart caused by you. She was afraid of never coming close to what you had given her, and you may realise her love was nothing—and leave her first.

So, she made the decision for you, and left instead.

Sometimes, the thought of you flickers in her mind when she lays in bed or when she sees something hilarious at work that only you would understand. An inside joke so precious to be known by two.

She thinks that true love was Peter too or is Peter. Hope swelling the ring in her finger for that to be true.

“I’m a fuck up! Yup, that’s me!”

It takes another round of curses to spew from her mouth before her eyes fell on the grey landline by the bed. An old phone which missed their eyes. She stands still, wrapping in a bright pink bathrobe, glossy eyes at the verge of spilling unforgiving tears and her hands trembles.

Jess waited, she thought of things, her friends and you, then she quickly strides to the phone. Her hand grasping grey plastic. The beeping line reassured her of it’s function. Her mind works on auto as she dials the number buzzing a storm in her mind. For the most miracle reason, the ringing begins to inform her that the person was just there waiting to answer her call.

Suddenly, silence emits after a click was heard. Jess wanted to wail into the plastic phone and threw it away.

“Hello?”

But she hears a voice, hallow and round, and everything she dreamed of. Her heart swelled, halting for the sheer seconds that her eyes shut closed.

“Hello? Another prank calls. I’m hanging up.”

That sound of finality wakes her completely. “Please don’t hang up.”

She hears the sharp intake of breath. Perhaps, you were there, staring at her with your loving eyes, grasping her hand in your own and whispering beautiful things to her ears, laughing so loud as she pulls you into her embrace.

Jess doesn’t think she had ever felt as alive than when she was with you.

“Jess?” you whispered, voice sounding afraid than angry at her for leaving you.

She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I didn’t know what to do— I was so scared. I’m sorry for leaving you and hurting you.”

The apology was stewing for years. Still jumbled over another, trying to rush every word that probs her mind and kept locked in her heart before the end came.

“I should had told you. I promise. I haven’t stop thinking about you. When I work, I have this distant memory of you pulling me away and twirling me around. Remember the song you used to sing? You were horrible. But I love it because it was you! Now, I’m supposed to get married and I love him, I do. Peter is great….” She paused, trying to steady her breathing before continuing. “When I have good news, there’s a voice in my head that urges me to call you and tell you everything! Not my friends or Peter. Not anyone else. I’m so close to getting accused of murder and I’m still thinking about you kissing me to shut up from rambling and stressing out and—"

Then, Jess starts crying. The really ugly and noisy kind of crying.

Wallowing in self-pity seems so easy. Chances missed because she was afraid. It takes every strain of strength in her to not propose her love for you. The same love that was still pulsing her chest, in her heart where you reside, and she doesn’t think that a love like that could ever happen again. Not with Peter or anyone else.

It has always been you.

“What murder?” you interrupted her sobs.

Jess hears the rustling sound of papers in the background. A door shutting close with a thud then a click.

“Who’s murder, Jess?”

“Just some stripper,” she answered shortly. “I’m sorry for leaving you! I just— I’m so fucking…”

“Jess!”

She shakes her head, trying to resolve herself from weeping into a phone and sounding far worse than she was. “I’m okay. I’m fine. I might had ruined my friendship…you remember sweet Alice? Everything is a mess. There’s a dead body to add into the mix! I would never win the election now, but I would be cheering in prison. Do you think they have politics in prison? Maybe I’ll join a gang there and make it work.”

“Can you shut up for a second?!”

Jess immediately shuts her mouth. Cheeks glistering with tears and chest aching for the very reason leading to this moment.

“Explain to me what happened exactly. I don’t want to know anything else.”

And she obediently listens.

The seriousness in your voice emits a kind of authority on her body that she sits on the bed, crossing her legs and pressing the phone entirely too harsh against the side of her face. Why was she thinking of your voice so heavenly like? Each intake of breath, the hums, and the groans, was making her forget the horrific situation she had landed herself into.

“Give me your address,” you ordered.

An answer messily spills from her mouth, but she knew you’d find your way to her regardless of how far.

“Don’t do anything else or say anything to anyone. Just take a deep breath and think happy thoughts, yeah? You’re going to get out of this mess and win state senate. Everything will be perfect.”

Jess nods her head groggily, “Everything will be fine.”

The conversation ends with an extend beep. While Jess clings on the landline, before placing it down and wandering into the bathroom. Everything should be fine, she muttered to herself like a prayer

A card placed directly in the middle of a gift basket made for her, catches her attention and when she does read it, realisation dawn on just how much she had missed out. Everything that was made to perfection or some extend of that, was Alice’s pure dedication. Her best friend. And she ruined that relationship. Like how she ruined the love she shared with you.

“I’m going to fix this.”

A crash resounded outside her room. It caters her attention forward. The pink bathrobe tugging closer around her body as she walks toward the noise.

The sight she saw wasn’t what she anticipated. Her group of friends were tied against their will, and two man circling them, pointing their hazardous guns at them. The stripper—the alive one, the same man who’s recognisable based on what’s upright between his legs—for whatever reason, he was in between the disastrous scene and still under dressed.

Jess bends her knees, shielding herself from being seen behind the concrete barricade. What she could make out was a conversation regarding something that was stolen from them. Threats spilling from their angered self on harming her friends. She quietly slips back into her room as the sound of heavy studs rushes her further.

Once the door for her bedroom was pushed open, Jess hide behind it and quickly acted on her instinct. A canister held tightly in her hand as she sprays at the intruder’s face. It happened so abruptly that the next second, she was holding the heavy weapon directly at the man. The gun nearly slipping from her hand.

But she felt warm hand enclosing around hers. Hot breath tickling her neck, then pressing a gentle kiss on her skin. Your voice soothing her from falling apart.

“Don’t make a fucking sound or I will kill you!” she warned sternly, her voice trembling at the edge.

Jess pushes herself down memory lane. She recalls how you aided her, teaching her how to correctly hold the deadly weapon, your feet nudging her legs apart to have a sturdy stand. You whispered your instructions. Proposing ways to defend herself properly. Hands shamelessly touching her skin with the reason of teaching her.

But her mind was submerged from the sheer addictive touch of yours and voice luring her into your body.

You were truly something else. A force that made her feel alive, strong, and so powerful.

Determination leads her forward. The man cuffed beneath the sink and his mouth sealed with a wax strip. Jess takes careful steps outside, returning behind the concrete barricade. Her head peak from behind till Alice notice her. They tried communicating a plan as the second intruder grumbles about his missing partner.

Jess takes a deep breath. Counting down to three before jumping over the concrete barricade and seamlessly landing on the man. Gasps and groans reach her ears. Shock distracting her for a moment, then she felt the man’s struggle to remove her from him.

It was life changing—pushing a man down the ground, ruthlessly punching him and now allowing him the chance of a great escape. The expensive and heavy ornament smash between his legs when he tried chocking her. Victory buzzes around her and the familiar click of a gun pointed directly at her.

Fuck, she cursed internally for exceeding her expectations and failing. Disappoint flutter in her chest.

Unexpectedly, the man falls from where he was angrily threatening her. Alice had successfully shot him twice. Excitement buzzes among them. Jess rushes to Alice’s side. Apologies exchanged from both sides, forgiveness yield between friends, and her friend’s lack sense of boundaries.

“Drop the gun!”

Jess groaned, swiftly turning around to the man she had cuffed in the bathroom. The fluffy pink handcuff was dangling from his wrist and his face flushing red. Part of her wanted to laugh at his silly expression, and the other hoping for a miracle to grace them.

And that wish arrived with an abrupt knocking.

The man shifts his attention to the door. He spares a suspicious look at their direction as he takes attentive steps toward the door and pulling it open warily. Curious eyes tries peeking pass his shoulder.

Jess takes the step instead. Her body deliberately pushing her forward, before she stumbled backward as the man’s body falls flat on the ground. There, perfectly angled in the middle of the door, you were standing assertively with your fists pointed forward.

“You’re here!” Jess screamed, rushing toward you and stepping over the man’s body. “You’re fucking here,” she pulls your body flush against hers.

The long-awaited reunion made her heart clenched, your fingers tangled in her hair, bodies coming closer and warmer. Jess inclines back, glossy eyes staring into yours, and her lips trembling. And your eyes swirling with life, easily drawing her into a world painted with you.

Jess ignores her rationality as she presses her lips fervently on yours, her hands grasping your jaw and feeling the texture of your skin beneath her touch. She savours the taste in your mouth, something sweet, something she missed, and something she needed more. The life you pour into her mouth as your hands tugs her head deeper into a yearning kiss.

Behind, Jess’s friends haven’t look away from the scene unfolding in front of them. Though, Pippa was whining about missing out, growing louder as the interest raises. Blair nudges Frankie’s side, both exchanging a bewildered look while Alice stares at them with wide eyes.

“Hey Kiwi, do you know who’s that…” Alice trailed, mouth gape.

“Not exactly…I can’t see!” Pippa sobbed, and the swiftly shimmer to allow the her to see. “Oh, so it’s accurate. There’s always more than two gays in a friend group.”

They murmured about the scene, exchanging shocking expressions and voicing out their thoughts. Each side forcing the other to shimmer around so they could witness their friend kissing a stranger.

“She’s really into it…”

“All that tongue?”

In the distance, a booming sound alerts you and you immediately pushers Jess aside with you. Within the next few seconds, a car crashes through the house’s entrance, almost missing you and Jess. A gasp leaves her mouth as her hands pulls you impossibility closer into her.

“What the fuck?” your confusion strains her with conflict when a man falls out from the driver’s side.

He was wearing a diaper and completely in daze. Mumbling of things you didn’t know or understand.

Pippa released a sound, a mix between excitement and realisation. “I recognise her! They used to scissor.”

Blair was the first gasped. “What? Did you get the vibe?” she slapped Frankie’s arm as the latter shakes her head in response.

“We shall all go scissor one day!”

Alice tense beside them, before contemplating the offer and pulling her arm over Pippa’s shoulder. The rope loosing as the others untie it. “Is that…like an orgy?”

Pippa hastily denied. “Orgy? Never! Scissor is when we cut each other’s hair, yeah? It’s a very fun activity to truly put your trust on another and make the bond better.”

The conversation continues among them. Jess, on the other side, takes caution step towards the man lying on the ground. She identifies him as none other than her future husband.

“Peter? Oh god, are you okay?”

Peter mumbles words of worry, revolving their relationship and the call that didn’t come through. Jess felt genuinely bad for him. The distraught state he was in, the way his eyes can’t seem to focus on her. But her eyes glances away from him to only meet your gaze and her heart tugs toward a path she hasn’t felt in years.

It reaffirms her love for you—far from great than what was shared with Peter.

“I’m sorry Peter. But I can’t marry you.”

Peter cranes his neck trying to comprehend what she had, and he wailed. “No marry me?”

Jess could only muster a decent pat to his head as weep on the ground. She slowly walks back towards you, hesitation flashing in her eyes. Worry swelling in her chest that you may push her away and tell her to leave. You could utter the words of anger that was left to marinate for the perfect moment when you finally see her, so you could spit at her face and leave her heart to break into pieces.

“Heartbroken?” you crossed your arms, nodding your heart toward the crying man.

“Not mine,” she answered. “You?”

You shrugged your shoulder and her hands twitches by her side, just urging to nudge herself forward and press her body flush into yours. The propelling need to touch your skin, to skim her fingers across the curve of your nose then lips—where she wish to plunge herself into you, all of you and only you.

“Depends on what you do next.”

You beckoned her closer.

Jess face glows with a smile, so wide and happy, almost fooling those around into assuming she won the election. Instead, she finally found her way to you. Her body rushing towards yours, a crash that nearly makes you fall but you held onto her as she did the same. Completely submitting her body to whatever the fuck she wants.

But only with you. Always with you.

“Oh, they’re going for the tongue again!”

#jess thayer imagine #jess thayer x reader #jess thayer x you #rough night imagine #jess thayer #rough night

[witchinwidow]

VOTE FOR JESSICA "JESS" THAYER TODAY!

#rought night #jessica thayer #sjohanssonedit #roughtnightedit #scarlett johansson #jessicathayeredit #jessthayeredit #jess thayer #mine: gifs #edits

[handeaux]

18 Modern Words That Had Very Different And Curious Meanings In Old Cincinnati

Some words we use daily today meant something totally different more than a century past. Here are a few normal, everyday terms that once had surprisingly altered definitions long ago in Cincinnati.

Affinity In the early 1900s, “affinity” meant something very much like “soulmate” does today. In Cincinnati newspapers, “affinity” usually shows up in articles about divorce. Many a husband sought a divorce because he had found his “affinity”, and it wasn’t the woman he was married to. Jacob Pels told the Cincinnati Post [31 October 1907] on the occasion of his second divorce: “Twice I thought I found my affinity, and twice I made a bad mistake.”

Blue Today, if you’re blue, you are mildly depressed. Back in Old Cincinnati, “blue” meant risqué, or even obscene. Cincinnati ministers erupted in indignation when Millie DeLeon, the “Girl In Blue” (wink, wink!) performed at Heuk’s People’s Theater on Vine Street in 1901. And, when Cincinnati Redlegs Manager Clark Griffith excoriated the team after a dismal spring training game in Georgia, the telegraph company refused to carry the Enquirer’s dispatch [14 March 1909]: “Wishing to be perfectly accurate, we wrote out the rest that Griff said, but the telegraph man would not send it. He said his wire was a family wire of good and regular habits, and he would not insult it by asking it to carry a lot of blue language.”

Boom This old term had nothing to do with firecrackers or other explosions. It meant to promote, or to hype, or to publicize. When Judge Andrew J. Pruden wrote to the editor praising a Cincinnati Post editorial, the Post headlined his letter [6 January 1893]: “Judge Pruden Indorses The Post In Its Efforts to Boom The City.” An editorial an 1888 edition the old McMicken Review at the University of Cincinnati encouraged students to “Boom the ‘Varsity!” Cynical Thomas Emery, a pioneer real estate developer, told the Post [1 July 1886] he was concerned about future investments: “Boom Cincinnati? Can you boom a dead dog? I don’t mean that Cincinnati is dead exactly, but she’s overbuilt.”

Brace To brace somebody meant to cheat them, and Cincinnati was swarming with galoots just salivating at the opportunity to brace someone. The bracers needed to watch out who they braced, though. Frank Y. Grayson in his classic “Pioneers of Night Life” tells the tale of Frank James, Jesse’s brother, getting fleeced at a Cincinnati card game: “James dropped $800 on the night. He knew that he had been braced. Before he left he said genially, ‘Well, boys, I’ll say one thing for you, you get it easier than I do.’”

Cake We’re not talking pastry here. This word figures into one of the most obscure lines in Ernest Lawrence Thayer’s classic “Casey at the Bat” from 1888:

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;

A “hoodoo” we still recognize as a jinx, but a “cake”? In 1888, everyone knew that a cake was a fool. Within the context of baseball, a cake was a loser.

Candlelight Many a romantic evening has been conducted by candlelight. In the days before electricity, “candlelight” was a time of day, specifically that time of evening when you lit your candles. The Cincinnati Gazette [11 June 1857] presented this line: “The preacher gave notice that, if the weather was fair, he would preach at candlelight, but, as it sprinkled a little, there was no congregation.”

Card There is not much call for classified advertisements these days, when everything is advertised online. Ads used to be the main source of income for newspapers, who called small advertisements “cards,” as in this example from the Enquirer [22 November 1890]: “Mrs. Pollock did not stop at advertising her business in circulars. She inserted a card in the Sunday Newsdealer.”

Cockpit Did you ever wonder why the place an airplane pilot sits is called a cockpit? It’s named for an actual pit in which roosters (or cocks) fought to the death. Cock-fighting was popular in Cincinnati, though intermittently illegal. The Cincinnati Commercial [11 January 1847] advertised a new venue: “A regular Cock Pit having been established in the rear of the “Lunch House,” fights will take place three times a week.” If cock-fighting was too high-class, Cincinnati also hosted rat-pits from time to time in which small dogs battled rodents.

Combination Strictly speaking, in the 1800s, a “circus” was that entertainment taking place withing a sawdust “ring” which in Latin was “circus.” The other aspects of the modern circus – the traveling zoo known as the “menagerie” and the “side-show” or “exposition” – were considered separate enterprises. The first impresarios to “combine” all of these shows called them “combinations.” So, we have the Cincinnati Gazette [8 June 1872] reporting: “Warner’s big combination show attracted an immense crowd of spectators yesterday afternoon and evening.” And old John Robinson advertised his traveling spectacular as “Robinson’s Great Combination.”

Dashboard We use “dashboard” today to talk about status displays on our computer screens, which derived from the instrument panel in our automobiles, which referred to the array of gauges and dials in an aeroplane. But there was a much earlier and practical use of this word as the actual wooden board at the front of a carriage that kept stones and mud from being kicked into the driver’s face. From the Cincinnati Dollar Weekly Times [1 November 1855]: “The mare was put between the thills of a nice light buggy, her harness thoroughly adjusted by the owner, the reins carefully laid over the dashboard, and the usual chapter of advice opened concerning her management.”

Drummer An old definition of this word, metaphoric in origin, has nothing to do with music. A drummer was a salesperson, usually a traveling salesman, and usually a man on commission. The Enquirer [22 December 1871] reported: “The State of Maryland has in force a statute similar to that of Tennessee and several other States, which classes ‘drummers’ selling goods by sample for houses out of the State with peddlers, and exacts a license from them so heavy as to prohibit effectually sales in those States.”

Embarrassed If you realize, after ordering at an expensive restaurant, that you left your wallet at home, you might be embarrassed. That is close to the old-time definition of this word. It meant bankrupt. The Cincinnati Gazette [27 April 1837] related the story of a scoundrel named John Law: “With him perished all Law’s hopes for regaining his personal fortune. He became embarrassed; suits were commenced against him.”

Grocery So many old-time groceries offered liquor by the glass that “grocery” came to mean almost any saloon that emphasized the hard stuff over beer. Here’s the Western Christian Advocate [20 May 1836]: “When I hear a man say ‘my cigars cost me two dollars a week’ – I should not be surprised if I see him drinking in a grocery or tavern.”

Hilarious The history of comedy reminds us that we find drunks to be humorous. Back in the day, “hilarious” did not mean funny; it meant extremely inebriated. The Enquirer [14 January 1870] recounted one such case: “Night before last, this identical phonographer, who now calls himself Henry Henderson, was found in a highly hilarious condition, enjoying the society of ugly females in a bad house on Eighth street.”

Map There are abundant synonyms for physiognomy, but Cincinnati in the 1890s had a good one – “map.” In regaling his readers with memories of post-midnight culinary delights, Frank Grayson recalled Simon the Hot-Corn Man, who slathered his steaming ears of corn with “a substance that passed as butter.” Grayson recollected how “There were a lot of greasy maps decorating Vine Street in the wake of Simon.”

Queer In recent times, “queer” has settled into a linguistic niche as a sobriquet for what used to be called “alternative lifestyles.” Around 1880, however, the primary connotation of “queer” was financial. It referred to counterfeit money. The Cincinnati Gazette [28 October 1873] reported on the trial of M.Y. Morton: “He is an old gray haired man, and told the detective that he had been ‘pushing the queer’ for thirty-five years, making a good business in buying and selling counterfeit.”

Slut Ever since it became a term of sexist opprobrium, “bitch” has been ruined as the technical name for a female canine. Few today remember that “slut” was synonymous with “bitch” and also referred to distaff dogs. An advertisement in the Cincinnati Commercial Tribune [21 June 1870] sought: “Dogs – Two full blood Scotch rat terriers dog and slut. Must be a year old or older.”

Snide You rarely hear this word today outside the phrase “snide remark.” When you do, it often has the tint of sarcasm. In old Cincinnati, however, “snide” meant fake, cheap or counterfeit. The Cincinnati Daily Star [23 January 1880] recorded that “Ed. Kline was pulled in yesterday for selling ‘snide’ jewelry.” The term applied to people, too. The Enquirer [5 April 1880] noted: “A snide party styling themselves Tennessee Minstrels were rotten-egged and mobbed in Easton, Maryland, on Friday night.”

#cincinnati language #cincinnati slang

[hollywood3015]

Fuchs Family Tree

Since I was doing it on an app but I don’t like the way it shares, I figured I’d do one on here since I have all the photos for it anyway! Plus, this would be a great TLDR for anyone who doesn’t want to read from the beginning. 

Everything will be under the cut because its long and this family is crazy!!

FIRST GEN

First up we have Denene and Phillip. The founder and spouse of this 100 gen craziness. Phillip and Denene had one child: (Phillip is the SPOUSE, keep that in mind because him and acr were working harder then the devil)

The beautiful Khiry. What a stud. Denene died so Phillip married his second wife:

Jane, Together they had many child but only two survived:

Ica and Kiara. (They are the only 2 with the same parents) Jane died fighting Phillips Mistress because she found out the mystery baby she was raising was her husbands bastard child:

Rose Dai, Rose and Phillip had 3 children together but only 1 made it to adulthood, Rose dropped the baby off at Phillips house and wasn’t seen for many many moons. That baby was:

Burdette Dai the bastard. With Jane dead Phillip needed a new wife, that woman was:

Demi! The Infamous. It took her a long while to get pregnant and she thought it was her fault but I lean more towards the old dirty bastard himself, Phillip. Anyway they finally did have a child:

Norene. She is so stunning it hurts. She is just like her parents...

SECOND GEN:

Back to Khiry, He dated exactly 2 women in his whole life and one of them was Demi, his step mom... 

They had 1 child together:

Jarad. My wonderful 3rd gen heir who I don’t seem to have any good front facing pics of...  Moving on!

Ica got married to a wonderful man, Jess Thayer and together they had 4 kids. 

Mulan

Archibald and Cristal

and Craig

Burdette Dai the Bastard married a woman he met on his travels with his brother, her name is Heidi. Together they had 1 child: 

Denisse Dai. 

The beautiful Kiara next, she married Ryker but had some fertility issues. She finally got pregnant with her daughter:

Karleen and wasn’t able to have another child until much later in her life

She finally gave birth to twins, Gabriel and Denver while Ryker was at war. 

Lastly, Norene, the last child of Phillip, married a hard working man named, Damion. Together they had triplets:

Ching, Herminia, and Ruthanne. Ruthanne did not make it past her toddlers years. Norene also adopted Heidi’s child, Denisse when her mom went crazy after Burdette died. 

Denisse as a teen <3

But Norene had a secret, she was having an affair with Leo ‘Wild Man’ Bigfoot

Together they had one child before Norene died:

Laureen. 

And that is the first 2 generations of the Fuchs family. I think I may do one of these every gen now once the gen is finished so that I can have a running tally of the families and what they are up to. When gen 3 is done I will update this or do another one so everyone can see how far the babies have come. 

Until next time!

#ts2 #100 challenge #fuchs family tree

[booksdish]

My wrap of 2022 book challenge. I was really into dark, and taboo romances this year and I devoured them. This was probably the fastest that I completed by book challenge and for 2023 my goal is 100 books!

Books by African American Authors I read in 2022:

The Healer Warrior, by Renee Lewin

Bargain with the Beast, by Naima Simone

Dark, by Thayer King

Chaldor, by Thayer King

Whimsy, by Thayer King

Bittersweet Love, by Q.B. Tyler

Forget me Not, by Q.B. Tyler

Today, Tomorrow, Always, by Raven St. Pierre

Gravity, by Raven St. Pierre

Within the Shadows, by Brandon Massey

Single Black Female, by Tracy Brown

The Marriage Pass, by Briana Cole

Love and War, by Shirra Lynn

His Fantasy, by Thayer King

No Strings, by Eve Vaughn

His for Keeps, by Theodora Taylor

All Her Little Secrets, by Wanda M. Morris

His Forbidden Bride, by Theodora Taylor

His to Own, Theodora Taylor

Nordic Lightening, by Camilla Stevens

Where the Pieces Fall, by Blue Saffire

Always Been You, Q.B. Tyler

Jesse's Girl, by Naima Simone

Fire, by Shae Evans

Risks, by Symone West

Hoops Shorts, Kennedy Ryan

First, by Symone West

A Love So Wrong, by Katerina Winters

Wrongful Desires, by Katerina Winters

Lost and Found, by Katerina Winters

Bound Through Time, Twyla Turner

A Million to Blow, Blue Saffire

Other awesome authors that I read for this year

F*ck Perfect, by Danyell A. Wallace

Deadly Vows, by Haley Stuart

Viking Unbound, by Kate Pearce

The Lord of Lost Causes, by Kate Pearce

Viking Claimed, by Kate Pearce

Valentine's Vow, by Adele Clee

At Last the Rouge Returns, by Adele Clee

Descent, by Sam Mariano

Untouchable, by Sam Mariano

The Haunting, by Hope Carr

Bentley, Hattie Jude

Quinn, by Hattie Jude

The Boy of the Bridge, by Sam Mariano

Make You Beg, by Shantel Tessier

You Promised Me Forever, by Monica Murphy

Bound to Please, Hope. C. Tarr

The American Heiress, by Daisy Goodwin

Daughters of Rome, by Kate Quinn

The Worst Best Man, Mia Sosa

The Forest of Vanishing Stars, by Kristin Harmel

Victoria, by Daisy Goodwin

Entropy, by Jennifer Hartmann

Midnight Hunter, Brianna Hale

Star Father, Charlie N. Holmberg

The Forgotten Sister, Nicola Cornick

Love Beyond Time, by Bethany Claire

Regarding the Duke, by Grace Callaway

The Stationmaster's College, by Phillipa Nefri Clark

A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime, by Monica Murphy

Twisted Hate, by Ana Huang

Trick Me Twice, by Becca Steele

Taunt Her, by Caitlyn Dare

Eyes on Me, by Sara Cate

The Unknown Beloved, by Amy Harmon

June First, by Jennifer Hartman

The Patron, by Vivian Wood

Boyfriend's Glasses, by Livia Harper

The Arms of the Enemy, by Lisbeth Eng

Love Wrecked, by Karina Halle

From Sand and Ash, by Amy Harmon

Highlander's Captive, Mariah Stone

Blake, by Victoria H. Smith

Drowning Erin, by Elizabeth O'Roark

Forbidden Love Still Blooms, by Nora Flite

Captured by the Beast, by Jenna Kerna

Men of the North, The Protector, by Elin Peer

Men of the North, The Ruler, by Elin Peer

Reading Challenge Goal for 2022 was 85; so if you're keeping count I have six more to go until I meet my challenge. Which challenges were your favorite in 2020? Let’s discuss in the comments!

[shedreamsofemptyswingsaround]

#scarlett johansson #rough night #cocaine #drugs #feel better #caption #2017 #Jess Thayer

[scenesandscreens]

Fun with Dick and Jane (1977)

Director - Ted Kotcheff, Cinematography - Fred J. Koenekamp

"Are we going to be poor, like the Waltons?"

#scenesandscreens #Fun with Dick and Jane #ted kotcheff #Fred J. Koenekamp #george segal #jane fonda #Ed McMahon #Dick Gautier #allan miller #Hank Garcia #john dehner #mary jackson #Walter Brooke #Sean Frye #fred willard #thayer david #Dewayne Jesse #anne ramsey #Jon Christian Erickson #Gloria Stroock #james reynolds #jay leno

[lensandpenpress]

Outlaws in the Ozarks and Irish Wilderness

Outlaws in the Ozarks and Irish Wilderness

My Irish Wilderness Google alerts delivered to my inbox an article about the recent meeting of the Oregon County Historical Society in Thayer.  Members discussed “Ozarks Outlaws and Gangsters.”

“Vice President Mike Crawford discussed property in the Irish Wilderness that was rumored to have been visited and traveled through by Jesse and Frank James.”

Yes, “The Irish” remains to this day a place…

View On WordPress

#IrishWilderness #James-Younger Gang #Jesse James #Oregon County #Oregon County Historical Society #Ozarks Outlaws #Thayer Missouri

[karakroft47]

2000′s movies that are rarely talked about

- Keith (2008)

Natalie becomes lab partners with Keith (Jesse McCartney) much to her dismay. But she eventually falls for him. However, Keith may be hiding a secret.

- Dakota Skye (2008)

Dakota Skye has the power to see through any lie told to her. That is until she meets Jonah who doesn’t lie at all. This changes everything into perspective for her.

- Teenage Dirtbag (2009)

Popular cheerleader, Amber forms an unlikely friendship with a troublesome classmate named Thayer.

- Kill Me Later (2001)

Loan officer, Shawn has a meltdown after her affair with her boss ends. And she becomes a hostage in a robber’s failed attempt to escape.

- The Babysitters (2007)

After fooling around with a customer, Shirley turns her babysitting services into a call girl service.

- Thirteen (2003)

Tracey divulges herself into inappropriate vices after becoming friends with a troublesome girl.

feel free to add more!

#wwwpost #keith 2008 #dakota skye 2008 #teenage dirtbag 2009 #kill me later 2001 #the babysitters 2007 #thirteen 2003 #2000's movies

[cold-black-and-infinite]

Nine Inch Nails - Live at Royal Albert Hall, London, England (June 24th, 2018)

(Photos by Jesse Thayer)

#nine inch nails #nin #trent reznor #industrial music #industrial rock #alternative rock #2010s music #concert #concert photos #trilogy era

[hollywood3015]

The Thayer household with Ica and her husband Jess. Mulan ever so beautiful has taken up the violin. Ica gave birth to triplets, her brother hadn’t been home to help her through the birth and everyone was nervous if she was going to make it but she was strong. 

Only 2 of the 3 babies survived. Archibald and Cristal Thayer. 

#ts2 #100 challenge #1320s #fuchs family #generation 2

[ladyherenya]

Books read in October

I read a paperback book for the first time in over three months months and was sharply aware that I couldn’t change anything about the way the text was displayed to make it more comfortable to read. I wondered, sadly, if I no longer like reading physical books.

Then I became engrossed in the story, and there were long stretches of time when I didn’t think about how I was reading a brick of printed paper. I turned pages as automatically and effortlessly as breathing. I think I was just out of practice.

This month’s Unintentional Colour Scheme: pink, purple and light blue.

Favourite covers: The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball and The Other Side of the Sky. 

Also read: “Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis and Tiny House, Big Love by Olivia Dade. (And half a romance novel which I disliked and have no interest in remembering or reviewing.) 

Reread: The last section of The Beckoning Hills by Ruth Elwin Harris. The middle section of Hunting by Andrea K. Höst.

Still reading: Between Silk and Cyanide by Leo Marks, and Angel Mage by Garth Nix.

Next up: The Switch  by Beth O’Leary, and Hamster Princess: Little Red Rodent Hood by Ursula Vernon.

*

The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball by Aster Glenn Gray: A magical story of time-travel and of friendship between eleven year old Piper, who has just moved into a new house, and Rosie, who lived in the same house fifty years earlier. It’s totally charming, and exactly the sort of story I adored growing up. Sometimes that makes me wish I could send a book back in time to my younger self, but I appreciated this book’s references to things that my younger self didn’t know about. I also appreciated how, even though I’ve read similar stories, I couldn’t predict how this one would end. That was very satisfying.

The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett: In 1547, Francis Crawford, the Master of Lymond, wanted by the Scottish government for treason, is back in Edinburgh. The audiobook was the perfect way to experience this! The voices the narrator uses highlights clues in the text, about who’s speaking or the subtext and emotional tones of a conversation, which helped me to follow the story even when I felt confused about exactly what was going on. I enjoyed the Scottish accents, the clever wit, the ambiguity about Lymond’s plans and motives, and the way many characters are very intelligent, perceptive people. I was interested in the historical political intrigue. I loved the twists and revelations, which are brilliant -- incredibly clever and satisfying.

“Good Neighbors” by Stephanie Burgis:  The first “fantasy rom-com” about a grumpy inventor who, along with her father, moves into a cottage nextdoor to a notorious necromancer in his big black castle. I wasn’t expecting to read about Mia stitching up undead minions, but appreciate that Burgis doesn’t take this opportunity to give glory details. This short story was fun and satisfying, and I am looking forward to when the rest of this series becomes (easily) available.

Lake of Sorrows by Erin Hart: After Haunted Ground, Dr Nora Gavin heads to the midlands west of Dublin to oversee the evacuation of another body discovered in a peat bog. The setting is fascinating and I like the atmosphere -- this has a strong sense of both place and mystery. However the multiple murders meant there’s more unpleasantness than I’d prefer. But it’s probably not enough to deter me from reading the next book.

The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams: Engrossing -- a poignant story of childhood during the late 19th century and womanhood in the early 20th century, and an absolutely fascinating insight into the decades-long process behind the first Oxford English Dictionary. Esme’s father is one of the lexicographers collecting and defining words for the Dictionary. Esme grows up with a fascination for words and begins to collect words that the Dictionary leaves out. I liked that Esme has people in her life who love and support her, but the ending is intensely sad. I’m not sure why that disappointed me. As an ending, it fits this story.

Taking Down Evelyn Tait by Poppy Nwosu: Australian YA. Lottie is furious that no one else seems to realise what Evelyn Tait, her nemesis (and stepsister) is like. Her best friend Grace is in love with Evelyn. Her teachers and her father tell Lottie she should emulate Evelyn. So Lottie decides that she’s going to do just that -- she’s going to be better than Miss Perfect. I thought this was a very realistic portrayal of a teenager’s relationships -- with family, with friends, with school and with herself. It’s amusing and, ultimately, believably positive. It captures Lottie’s perspective and her experiences in-the-moment so effectively and intensely.

Wired Love: a romance of dots and dashes by Ella Cheever Thayer (1888): Nattie, a telegraph operator who chats whenever she can “over the wire” with C., another telegraph operator miles down the line. I love stories where characters fall in love through exchanged messages. And the experiences of telegraph operators is absolutely fascinating -- simultaneously a product of the past and yet incredibly relatable from a contemporary perspective, because the internet and mobile phones mean we communicate so much through text. After Nattie and Clem meet, the focus shifts away from the telegraph office to antics at their boardinghouse, but the story continues to be fun and delightful. 

Once Upon a Con series by Ashley Poston:

Geekerella: When Elle discovers her late parents’ cosplay costumes in a box in the attic, she hatches a plan to enter a cosplay competition and use the prize to escape her step-family. This contemporary Cinderella retelling about two teenage fans of a SF series Starfield is a romance-through-messages story. Elle uses her father’s old phone, so sometimes she gets messages from people about ExcelsiCon, the convention her father founded. One message sparks a conversation -- but neither she nor Darien realise just who they’re texting. As expected, this is fun and fandom-y, and it makes the coincidences and Cinderella moments feel believable.

The Princess and the Fangirl: At ExcelsiCon, Starfield actress Jessica Stone swaps places with a fan, Imogen. Jess needs to find a mislaid script before she’s accused of leaking it, and Imogen hopes for an opportunity to promote the #Save Amara initiative. I enjoyed how they both experience a different side of fandom. Imogen discovers the pressures of being a star, when con appearances are your job, and, away from the spotlight, Jess discovers how cons allow people to come together and celebrate things they love.  My only disappointment was the way they both deceive Imogen’s fandom friend, Harper. I wish that had been handled differently.

The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove by Kellie Hailes: Unlike other books I’ve borrowed because they had “bookshop” in the title, this didn’t focus very much on books, nor did it describe its bookshop vividly. Sophie could have easily owned a different sort of shop without changing the plot, the setting or the atmosphere. This is a light-hearted romance about nice people in a generic seaside town -- not what I was looking for. I wanted more about books and a stronger sense of place.

Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly (narrated by Cassandra Campbell, Kathleen Gati and Kathrin Kana): This begins with three different women at the start of WWII -- a teenager in Poland, a newly-graduated doctor in Germany and a wealthy consulate worker in New York -- and  becomes about the Ravensbruck Rabbits, Polish political prisoners subjected to medical experimentation. Not what I expected or wanted to be reading (which is not its fault. I switched to the ebook, because I'm irrationally squeamish about some medical things and cope better when reading to myself). This story is compelling and does a good job of showing how the pain and trauma didn’t just end with the war. And it’s incredibly important to keep telling stories about distressing parts of history. 

The Other Side of the Sky by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner: More or less the sort of story I expected from these two. Nimh is the Divine One in a world of magic and prophecy. North is a prince in a floating city of science and engineering. Nimh believes the gods fled into the sky thousands of years ago, and North believes no one still lives down on the surface… until he crashes his glider. I enjoyed this but don’t feel any emotional investment -- yet. I will read the sequel.

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade: April and Marcus keep fandom separate from their professional lives -- April to avoid negative comments, Marcus (an actor) to avoid violating his contract. So when Marcus sees a cosplay photo of April online, he doesn’t recognise his friend, he just sees a gorgeous woman getting nasty comments and invites her to dinner. I was hooked. As a romance, this didn’t always focus on the things I most wanted it to, but I understood why it made those narrative choices and liked how the characters resolved their mistakes. And I really liked it as a story about fanfiction and the way we tell stories in response to other stories.

Big Love, Tiny House by Olivia Dade: Lucy goes on a Tiny House Hunting show and drags along her best friend Sebastian. I’ve watched countless tiny house videos on Youtube, so it was fun to see tiny houses depicted in fiction -- although I was disappointed that all the houses are so disastrously bad. Beyond that, I have no strong feelings one way or another about this romance novella.

Memento: an Illuminae Files novella by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff (narrated by a full cast): A bonus prequel, set aboard the Alexander prior to the events of Illuminae. The audiobook is so well done! Even though this is a short story/novella, I cared about the new characters it introduces -- I really like the epistolary format and how it requires the reader to fill in some of the gaps for themselves. (I think that’s part of why I love The Illuminae Files but so far have no strong feelings about Kaufman and Kristoff’s latest series.) And it’s always interesting to see more of AIDAN.

#Herenya reviews books #Aster Glenn Gray #Dorothy Dunnett #Erin Hart #Pip Williams #Poppy Nwosu #Ella Cheever Thayer #Ashley Poston #Martha Hall Kelly #Amie Kaufman #Meagan Spooner #Jay Kristoff #Olivia Dade #Stephanie Burgis