#Braxton High School

[jhsharman]

Healthy-ish

Chuck is not doing so well in the high school boxing circuit, and Archie uncovers the reason why. Depending on which version you read, you can just call Chuck "Kid Candy". " Kid Energy Bar" doesn't have the same pejorative.

Easy enough to fix. But alas --!

Just what is Rudy Wrotten's game plan here?

Dude. It's just a high school boxing match. What, exactly, is the prize at the end of all these trained carrier pigeons, dog delivery services, and skulking outside the gym room on your rival school?

And here we see the reason that the premise of the story shifted from Chuck's addiction to candy bars to his addiction to energy bars.

It is a throwback to the doctors of old and their endorsements of one cigarette brand over another. But then, how does the new version play out health conscious-wise?

I guess it depends on what it is, these Chewy Dewys. But even supposing they aren't the brands that really aren't anything but candy bars -- dipped in chocolate! -- and maneuer away from sugar, it can't be good to eat as many as we're Chuck eat here -- and out of the mouths of birds! -- if the concern is his four full meals a day. Though, strictly speaking, I don't know what level of athlete one has to get to before the dietary requirements become unreal.

[i-like-books-and-women]

Saturday nerf gun fight where they're all super dramatic about it and are basically role playing war. Ruben dramatically "dies" in Zach's arms because he hits his knee on a table. Jon says "cause it's nerf or nothing" several times unironically (mostly after shooting Angel). They also accidently almost break a lot of shit. And they do it becsuse Jon never got nerf guns as a kid because "they insight violence".

[zepskies]

One Exception

Pairing: CJ Braxton x F. Reader

Summary: Joey has invited you to a party at Pacey’s apartment, and CJ has agreed to go, despite the contentious history between him and your new friends. He doesn’t want to be the reason you miss out on a good thing, but it also means he’ll have to hide his apprehension (and his alcoholism).  

AN: Here’s the sequel to Good Morning! This story takes place in 6.14 of the show, with a little twist.

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mature themes, but it doesn’t really warrant an 18+ rating. Angst, alcoholism, hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff, tinge of spice, and implied smut.

“Nice television,” CJ remarked, noting the giant monstrosity in the middle of this very loud apartment.

“See? Told you it’d be low-key,” you said.

More like high and off-key, CJ thought wryly.

Nickleback’s “How You Remind Me” was blaring. People you and CJ recognized from school were crowded in the living room around the TV, as well as milling around the kitchen with beers and solo cups, and it was pretty much a wall of sound that already grated on CJ’s ears. Pacey had to be in here somewhere too.

You squeezed CJ’s hand and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“You okay?” you asked.

He gave you a smile to hide his nerves. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He was no stranger to parties. He just didn’t often find himself going to parties where the host had once introduced his face to a brick wall.

Before he truly got to know you, CJ had a one-time unintentional fling with your (former) dorm roommate, Audrey. She’d been spiraling out of control in an alcohol-fueled depression. He’d seen a kindred spirit in her and tried to help her. He just hadn’t known that she was still sort of in a relationship with Pacey, who had a mean right hook when he wanted to.

And then there was Jen, Audrey and Joey’s best friend. CJ felt the worst for hurting her along the way, unable to reciprocate her feelings…

And, oh yeah, you still didn’t know about that last part. 

CJ silently stewed in all of this when you led him by the hand to find your friend and current dormmate, Joey.

“Hey! Glad you could make it,” she said with her wide, doe brown eyes and a too-bright smile.

You gave her a quirking look when you hugged her in greeting. She smelled like vodka and orange juice, but you’d never known Joey to go too hard in the paint with her liquor.

She gave your companion a little wave. “Hey, CJ!”

“Hey,” he nodded with a smile.

“You guys want something to drink?” she asked, gesturing to the row of liquor bottles and various chasers behind her on the kitchen counter. You internally paused for a moment, glancing at your boyfriend, but you turned back to Joey with a smile.

“Yeah, Diet Coke would be great,” you said.

CJ gave you a curious look, but he asked for the same. Joey bobbed her head before she went to pour the drinks into some plastic cups.

CJ leaned in near your ear. “Sweetheart, you’re allowed to drink. You know I’ve been to parties before.”

In fact, you and CJ had met at a club party. One where Audrey had been led up to some guy’s room while she was drunk, and CJ had all but broken down the door to get her out for you and Jen.

“I know, I just don’t feel like doing alcohol tonight,” you told him.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You just didn’t want to risk making CJ even more uncomfortable than he likely already was, being near Pacey. You’d asked Joey to talk to him for you—a plea for him to not try and kill your boyfriend.

And there your esteemed host was, coming over now.

“Heyyyy, good thinking,” said Pacey. He went over to Joey’s side when she turned to hand you and CJ your drinks. He grabbed another cup to pour one for himself. 

“Hey, man,” CJ greeted politely. His hands were in his pockets, trying to mask his stiffness.

Pacey hesitated, taking note of CJ, but the beat of tension broke between the two men when Pacey graciously stuck out a hand.

“Hey. Good to see ya…not with my girlfriend,” he quipped with a smile.

CJ’s was a bit more strained, but he gave a wry chuckle along with his handshake. Joey elbowed Pacey in the ribs.

“Ah, what?” he protested. She gave him a firm look, pursing her lips. Then she turned to you and CJ with a smile.

“Hey, you guys have any whiskey?” Jen cut in, as she sidled up to Joey. “I’m not so much in a beer mood, but whiskey I could do. Maybe it’s the burn I’m craving—”

She stopped short when she saw you and CJ. Her smile thinned.

“Oh! Hey, there,” she said.

CJ offered her nod, but his insides tightened. He watched you brighten and give Jen a hug that the other woman couldn’t easily reciprocate. Jen’s eyes were on him, even while she hugged you.

You and Joey then broke off to catch up for a bit (CJ encouraged you to it), while Pacey went back to watching a football game on the mega-sized TV with Jack. CJ was about to join them when Jen’s voice stopped him.

“You guys look good together,” she said. She had a glass of whiskey in her hand and a small smile on her face. Her blonde hair was shorter now, cut just below her ears. Her black halter-style dress suited her.

But she wasn’t you.

CJ smiled more genuinely. “Thanks.”

Jen was a good person. He was still sorry that he hurt her, but he wasn’t sorry for choosing you.

You were happy to see CJ hanging out with his friend David, along with Jack and Pacey and some other guys from school. Meanwhile, you had the chance to catch up with Joey and Jen.

Maybe it would give you a chance to mend this weird rift of distance that had seemed to come between you and Jen in recent weeks.

You didn’t know where it came from, but you genuinely admired Jen as a person. She was smart, and she always spoke her mind and stuck to her principles. That was something you wish you had more of in yourself.

Now, she was a bit quiet while sipping her whiskey. Joey made up for it, with a kind of giggle-snort you'd never heard come out of her mouth before. You raised a brow, despite your smile.

"Yes, Josephine?" you teased.

"Sorry," she waved a dismissive hand. "Just remembered something. Like the fact that I really like vodka. I mean, it's clear, almost tasteless, so it's almost like drinking water, you know?"

You and Jen shared an amused look.

"Sure, that's what it's like," you said.

Joey's eyes went wide then. She leaned in close to you, leaning on your shoulder.

"Oh. Don't drink champagne though," she said, while eyeing Jen. She "whispered" loud enough to be heard over the music, and also hurt your left ear. "She once killed a girl with champagne."

Jen's mouth fell open incredulously. Your eyes went as wide as Joey's. This was some serious “girl time.”

"Wait, what?" you said.

Jen looked at her empty glass. "Well, would you look at that? Right on time."

She escaped to the kitchen to refill her tumbler, but you and Joey followed her; you out of morbid curiosity, and Joey because she too wanted more vodka than orange juice in her plastic cup.

Jen gave you a smirk as she filled up her glass.

"Don't worry, you're all safe. This is Jameson," she said.

You emitted some nervous laughter and leaned on the kitchen counter, trying to figure out where the joke was here. How the hell do you kill a girl with champagne?

“So are you sure you don’t want an actual drink?” Jen asked, gesturing at your soda.

“Oh, no. I’m fine,” you held up a dismissive hand.

“You sure?” Pacey said, coming up from behind your little group to find a beer. “I got your boyfriend a vodka soda. I can get you one too.”

Your eyes widened, though you tried to hide your alarm, smoothing your hands down your jeans.

“What?” you asked.

Pacey paused. He’d caught the surprise flitting across your face. “What?”

“Um…” Your hesitation came from trying to process information in record time. You looked over and saw CJ with David. Your boyfriend was indeed holding a different cup.

You returned your attention to Pacey. His brows were raised. Joey looked confused as well, while Jen was sipping at her own drink, in a way that hinted that she already knew what you were about to say.

“CJ doesn’t drink,” you explained.

Pacey brows popped higher. “Ah. He’s 21 though, right?”

“Yes, but he’s a recovering alcoholic,” you said with a sigh. You didn’t want to have to say that, telling CJ's business, but you didn’t know how else to explain why you were slightly freaking out.

“Oh…uh, sorry about that,” Pacey said.

“No, it’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it,” you said.

Pacey gave a wan smile and returned to the group around the TV, CJ included. You sighed and turned back to Jen and Joey.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know either,” Joey said.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said, shaking your said. “I’ll just check on him, if you guys don’t mind—”

Jen’s glass hit the counter, and she poured herself another whiskey on the rocks.

“By all means, check away,” she said.

“Hey, sorry man. I didn’t know,” Pacey had said to him, with a look on his face that also said:

Sorry you’re a leper. That’s rough buddy.

CJ found himself withdrawing from the rest of the guys, even as the smell of vodka wafted from the solo cup in his hand. He glanced down at it with a short sigh, but he didn’t drink it, even though his hand itched to raise the cup to his lips.

You startled him a little when your hand curled around his arm.

“Hey,” you greeted in a whisper.

“Hey,” he smiled back at you. But the worried look on your face made his smile fall.

“Wanna hang out for a bit?” you asked, nodding at a quieter looking corner of the living room.

CJ waved at David with the hand that held his cup, and he followed you over to the far side of the couch. You sat on its edge, arms crossed, while he found a seat on the sill of a large window.

You pointedly glanced at his cup. “Have you been drinking?”

CJ’s lips pursed. He took in your stance: arms crossed, shoulders tense, lips pursed, eyes deeply concerned and wary.

Are we having fun yet? he thought dryly.

“See, I’d be more inclined to answer that question if you hadn’t lured me over here under false pretenses,” he remarked. Though he did set the cup down beside him on the windowsill.

“What false pretenses?” you asked, your brows furrowing.

“You don’t want to be with me. You want to check up on me,” he pointed out. “You’re looking at me like an inmate who got loose in the psych ward.”

You frowned then. “That’s not true. I’m just wondering why you would take an alcoholic beverage from Pacey.”

“Your friend offered me a drink. It seemed rude to say no, so…” CJ glanced down at his hands in his lap. Your head tilted in concern.

“CJ…” you sighed. “Why the hell would you ruin your sobriety over something like that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he replied flatly.

“Oh really?” you said. Your lips pursed in irritation.

“I just didn’t want to get into it with a stranger,” CJ said, throwing up a hand. “But thanks for telling him that I don’t drink. Now he’s apologizing to me like I’m dying or something.”

A sharper sigh fell from your lips. “I told you we didn’t have to come here. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to—”

“Again, you know this isn’t my first house party,” he said.

“Yeah, I know it’s not. So why? Why did this happen tonight?” you asked. “For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been so disciplined with yourself. You have a set of rules, and you follow them.”

“Yeah, well, did it ever occur to you that maybe I realized that I was too strict on myself?” he said. “That maybe we wouldn’t even be together if I didn’t bend those rules?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously, a bit of anger sparking your blood. He knew he shouldn't have said that. It just kind of flew out of his mouth, immediately sparking his guilt.

“Okay,” you snipped. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be bending those rules at all if this is where it leads.”

CJ's lips pursed. “What, because I’ve been sitting here, spending the last hour debating whether or not to take a drink?”

He gestured at the cup beside him. 

Your eyes blinked wider, with even more surprise, and a heavy dose of confusion.

“Wait, what? Are you telling me that you haven’t been drinking tonight?” you asked.

“Is that going to magically change all the conclusions you just jumped to?” CJ retorted.

You closed your eyes with a sharp, exasperated sigh. When you opened them again, you frowned at him.

“Uh, yeah!” you exclaimed. "Of course it does, CJ!"

“Well, it doesn’t work that way,” he said. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine. Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

He was getting wildly defensive right now. You sort of saw where he was coming from, but it was still frustrating. You held a hand to your chest as your heart raced with the force of your relief.

“Look, I’m sorry for assuming. I’m just…I was worried about you,” you said honestly. “I knew coming here might be stressful for you—”

“I can handle stress,” CJ said. “What I can’t handle is you looking at me like I’m a powder keg waiting to explode.”

You raised up placating hands as you glared at him.

“Fine,” you said. “Sorry for being concerned about my boyfriend. I’ll try to curb that behavior in the future.”

At that, CJ’s frustration and anger simmered down, swiftly followed by more guilt.

You got up and blinked quickly, like you were fighting tears as you shook your head. You aimed to get by him, but he got off the windowsill and went for your hand. There was no drunk excuse for his behavior now.

No, this one was all him.

“Hey,” he said, in a softer voice. He looked down at you with softer eyes too. He could see now that you didn’t mean to make him feel less than, like you had to watch him so he wouldn’t mess up in front of your friends. No, you were just genuinely worried about his wellbeing. 

You looked up at him warily. He held your hand more securely in his.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I am,” he said, when he noted your raised brow. “I’m really grateful that you care about me. That you’re concerned about me. But I’ve been dealing with this for a long time. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself either, even when we’re out here in the wild.”

A small smile twitched at your lips. You held his hand back.

“Out in the wild, huh?” you quirked a brow. CJ smiled back and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“I just need you to trust me a little more,” he said.

You nodded, smiling when his forehead gently rested against yours. The ends of his hair tickled between your brows.

“Okay, I’m sorry too,” you said. “Next time I won’t be so quick on the draw.”

You leaned up for a kiss. CJ met you there, sweetly at first. Then he tilted his head and deepened the angle of his lips moving against yours.

“Ooh save that for later,” Joey said, loudly from behind you.

It made you jolt in CJ’s arms. You turned your head and met your friend with a wide-eyed look of confusion. She held an empty wine bottle in her hand and waggled mischievous brows.

“Come on, let’s play.”

You really couldn’t believe that Joey was making you all play Spin the Bottle. For you, it was the stuff of awkward middle school horror stories of the highest form. She’d roped in you and CJ, Jen, Jack, Pacey and their roommate Emma, and Gus, a gross looking guy who was apparently her "fiancé" of some sort. 

Gus took the first turn, and got creative with it—giving Joey a nice lick on the cheek.

That’s what you get for making us play this dumbass game, you thought as you laughed.

Joey ended up giving Jack a sweet kiss, followed by him and Emma sharing a little lip-lock, and even Emma and Jen giggling as they came together for a peck.

But when it was Jen’s turn, the wine bottle spun, and spun…and landed on CJ. A chorus of “ooohs” came from the others.

You felt yourself bristle internally. It’s just a game, you reminded yourself. Just a stupid, stupid game.

You patted CJ’s knee and tried to school your face into amusement.

“You’re up, babe,” you said.

He looked a bit uncomfortable when he met your eyes, and then Jen’s. She wore a smile, though she was a little absent in the eyes. She’d been pounding hard liquor pretty much all night.

“All right, CJ. Let’s get this over with,” she teased.

He let out a subtle breath through his nose, but he uncurled his arm from around you so that he could lean over to meet Jen across the circle. Instead of the light peck that he was aiming for, she surprised him by taking his face in her hands and giving him a kiss deep enough to make him taste the burn of whiskey.

He parted from her with a flinch. His eyes blinked wide. A quick glance around the circle told him he wasn’t the only one who was surprised, but you were the only one he cared about. He settled back next to you and felt guilty for your muted disbelief, even though he wasn’t the real perpetrator here.

CJ frowned hard at Jen. She just smiled and crossed her arms around her legs, head bobbing to the tune of the alt rock music playing.

“Damn, Jen,” Pacey said, laughing uncomfortably. “That’s some dedication to the game.”

You were still shocked into stillness. You knew Jen was a bit deep into the bottle, but was she really drunk enough to try and make out with your boyfriend in front of you?

Joey finally dropped her hands from her face (she’d been watching the scene through the cracks in her fingers). She gave you an apologetic look. She was very effing drunk as well, you knew, but not make out with your boyfriend in front of you—drunk.

You finally looked over at CJ, not knowing who you should be more irritated with: Jen for sticking her tongue down his throat, or CJ for letting her.

“It’s your turn, bro,” Gus said. Not that he cared about whoever CJ landed on. He just wanted the chance to kiss another one of the girls. Preferably Emma.

CJ shook his head. “I don’t think I—”

“Go ahead,” you said. Your tone was a challenge, as were your crossed arms, and the tight expression on your face. “It’s just a game, right?”

That last part, you aimed at Jen. She finally had enough self-awareness to avert her drunken gaze. Your teeth were grinding.

Though you had to pause when you realized where CJ’s spun bottle had landed: right on you.

“Aw, well that’s good,” Joey said, with a nervous laugh that broke some of the tension in this little circle.

CJ let out a subtle breath of relief himself. But this was a whole new challenge as he met your steely gaze. He tried to give you a smile.

Your eyes fell. So with a small sigh, he gently took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to him, just before he leaned in to kiss you.

He plied you softly at first. His lips dragged against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. Then he angled his head away from the circle, away from prying eyes as he brushed his tongue across your lower lip, seeking entrance. You inhaled deeply, and you couldn’t help but let him in.

You uncrossed your arms and found his cheek with your hand. Your fingers soon delved into his hair, nails lightly scraping the back of his neck. He barely restrained a shudder.

“Ah, okay then,” Pacey muttered.

When you parted from CJ, your heart was racing, and there was a fire in your belly that you could see reflected in his eyes.

“I’m a little thirsty, you wanna…” he trailed. You nodded and let him help you off the ground where you all had been sitting.

CJ’s arm once again wrapped around your waist, and he led you into the first bedroom he could find. The door shut against the blaring music, the sounds of laughter and stories and dumb middle school games.

Until all that was left was you and CJ, and the sounds of quick breaths, clothes hitting the floor, and skin against skin.

“I’m sorry about earlier. With the game,” CJ later said. “Jen took me by surprise.”

Much later, where you were tangled up in his arms and the sheets, both of you mostly naked and tucked under the covers. You felt bad that you didn’t even know whose bedroom this was.

Jack’s maybe? You could only hope so. That would probably be the least awkward situation if you two were caught in here.

But at CJ’s question, your blissful mood of moments before was wiped away. Your face dropped into a frown. You turned in his arms so that you could see his face, resting your head on his arm.

“Yeah, what the hell was that with Jen?” you asked.

CJ soothed a hand up and down your arm. He knew it was time for him to come clean with you, even though he knew it might make you look at him differently. He could only hope that it wouldn’t.

“Before you and I started talking, dating—well, you know what happened with me and Audrey,” he said, expelling a breath of regret. “Before then, Jen had feelings for me.”

Your eyes widened. By now you could’ve guessed that Jen wanted your boyfriend, but you had no idea it had started way back then. CJ looked you in the eyes.

“I just didn’t feel the same way,” he said. “Then Audrey and I happened, just the one night. But Jen…I know I hurt her, and I felt terrible. I still feel bad about that, because I never meant to hurt her. I just thought Audrey and I had a connection.”

“And then Pacey,” you supplied, realizing where this story was headed. A fight between Pacey and CJ. Audrey left for rehab in California. And Jen was left to nurse her wounded pride and hurt feelings…especially when you and CJ began for real.

You closed your eyes on a sigh. This explained why she’d been so frigid to you lately.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” CJ said. “I didn’t want to come between you guys, or hurt her more by pursuing another one of her friends…I just couldn’t help falling for you.”

At that admission, you softened. You caressed CJ’s cheek, and you brought him down to you for a kiss. Again, it was slow and unhurried, yet no less passionate.

Your lips parted from his first, so you could meet his eyes.

“I’ll talk to Jen,” you said. “But…I’m glad I fell for you too.”

You and CJ shared a quiet moment then, each of you processing, hands intertwined. It had you thinking about everything he said tonight, even before the game. 

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it. Fine,” he’d said. “Just like I’ve been trying to find some normalcy with you here. But apparently you find that wildly insulting.”

You sighed and squeezed his hand. It was comfortably trapped between his bare chest and yours.

“Just for the record, you don’t have to be ‘normal’ for me, or be what you think I want around my friends. Just be you,” you said, meeting his green-eyed gaze. “I do trust you, CJ. I trust that you want to be with me, and that you have a handle on yourself.”

CJ smiled ruefully. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand.

“You were right though. The truth is I did get a little nervous tonight,” he said. “Being here, seeing Pacey…it brought up all that drama again. I took that vodka soda from him, and I was thinking about drinking it.”

“But you didn’t,” you said firmly. “Because you’re strong. Stronger than anyone I know.”

CJ looked down at your hand joined with his, at your face, set with honesty and vehemence. You seemed to believe every word of what you were saying. That alone made him feel strong.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile.

It hadn’t been all that long, but he knew this felt right. It always felt right with you.

You smiled back at him and leaned up for a sweeter kiss.  

“Thank you for bending your own rules for me,” you teased.

CJ chuckled. He stroked your cheek and pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“You’re my one exception,” he said.   

AN: As frustrated as CJ made me at times, somehow he weasels his way back into my heart. 😂💗 If you enjoyed this, let me know!

Ko-Fi Me ☕

CJ Braxton Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CJ Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @brianochka

@branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords 

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @jessjad @pieandmonsters @deans-spinster-witch

@idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @chriszgirl92 @peytongoose @hobby27

@waynes-multiverse @lovelyunjinn @twinkleinadiamondsky

[uwmspeccoll]

Milestone Monday

The King's Hares, from Norway

The Princess with the Twelve Pair of Golden Shoes, from Denmark

Queen Crane, from Sweden

The Rooster, the Hand Mill and the Swarm of Hornets, from Sweden

Ti-Tirit-Ti, from Italy

The Adventures of Bona and Nello, from Italy

The Hedgehog Who Became a Prince, from Poland

The Flight, from Poland

April 1st is the birthday of American librarian and storyteller Augusta Braxton Baker (1911-1998). Born to two schoolteachers in Baltimore, Baker was a voracious student who read at a young age and careened through elementary and high school. With advocacy support from Eleanor Roosevelt, Baker was admitted to the Albany Teacher’s College and in 1934 earned a B. A. in Education and a B. S. in Library Science making her the first African American to earn a librarianship degree from the college.  

In 1939, Baker went on to work as the children’s librarian at New York Public Library’s Harlem branch, founding the James Weldon Johnson Memorial Collection of Children’s Books to showcase representation of Black children and life in books, and beginning a lifelong career with children’s literature and the New York Public Library (NYPL). In 1953, she was appointed Storytelling Specialist and Assistant Coordinator of Children’s Services, quickly moving into the Coordinator of Children’s Services position years later and becoming the first African American to hold an administrative position with NYPL. Throughout her career, Baker was active with the American Library Association, and chaired committees for the Newbery Medal and Caldecott Medal recognizing excellence in children’s literature. 

In celebration of Baker’s birthday, we’re sharing The Golden Lynx and Other Tales, a collection of international folk tales compiled by Baker and illustrated by Austrian artist Johannes Troyer (1902-1969). This is the first edition of the book published in 1960 by J. B. Lippincott and is signed by Baker, who writes in the introduction, “No story has been included in this collection that has not stood the supreme test of the children’s interest and approval”. 

Read other Milestone Monday posts here! 

View more posts on children's books here.

– Jenna, Special Collections Graduate Intern 

[winchestergirl2]

February Reading Recs

To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖

Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

2023 Reading Recs | 2024 Reading Recs

Walker

Cordell Walker

Quieting the Demons Inside @idreamofplaid

Authors Summary: Cordell opens up to the reader, and his vulnerability takes their relationship to the next level.

Privacy @idreamofplaid

Authors Summary: Cordell is a passionate man, but he’s a dad too. It doesn’t mean he has to choose between the two.

Texas Nights @stefanmikaleson1864

Dawsons Creek

CJ Braxton

Something Like This @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: A Nor'easter hits Boston and luckily for you, you don't have anywhere you need to be except right here snuggled up with CJ.

My Bloody Valentine

Tom Hanniger

Lonely Dancers @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

Authors summary: when your boyfriend cheats on you, it leads you to tom hanniger

10 Inch Hero

Boaz Priestly

Code Red @zepskies

Authors Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.

High School Never Ends Part 1 | Part 2 | @illshakeyouallnightlong-dean

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Hollow @thoughtslikeaminefield

Authors Summary: @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ submitted this prompt to @cabin-fever-bang​ “Would anyone be willing to write something with Dean [or Jensen] x reader to the song Love on the Brain by Rihanna -xx”

Fire & Rain Masterlist @writercole

Authors Summary: When a fire destroys her place to live, Y/N and her daughter Lana are left with nowhere to go and no one to count on, except the kindness of a beautiful, green-eyed firefighter that saved their lives. Will the pair of them make it through the obstacles life has dealt them or will they crash and burn?

Just Another Day @1000roughdrafts

Authors Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Don't Forget It @hintsofhoney

Authors Summary: While working a case with Dean, he gets jealous of the way you interact with a suspect and decides to remind you who you belong to.

Sam Winchester

You're On Your Own Kid Part 1 @my-proof-is-you

Authors Summary: You’re used to being on your own. You’d been on your own as long as you could remember. Could Sam show you that it isn’t the only way to live?

Untitled Sam Winchester Fic @supernaturalfreewill

Big Sky

Beau Arlen

Febuwhump Day 10 @luci-in-trenchcoats

Febuwhump Day 14 @luci-in-trenchcoats

Febuwhump Day 21 @luci-in-trenchcoats

Whole Lotta Love @deanbrainrotwritings

Authors Summary: beau finds a way repays the reader after taking care of him when he’s injured, but also to apologise for worrying her. but most importantly, to prove he was okay.

The Way We Fall In Love @smellingofpoetry

Authors Summary: This is the story of how they fall in love.

The Boys

Soldier Boy

Febuwhump Day 12 @luci-in-trenchcoats

Side Effects of Soldier Boy @tom-whore-dleston

Authors Summary: Soldier Boy tries to keep you quiet during sex.

Smallville

Jason Teague

Febuwhump Day 7 @luci-in-trenchcoats

[eljeebee]

First Week of School

“What’s up?”

“Hey, Lou!”

“How’s uni?”

“Good. We’re in the commons doing our presentations.”

“Oh, you’re busy? I can call later?” Mason hesitantly said.

“Nah, nah, you’re fine Mace. Just giving my head a break. How’s high school?”

“Cool! I made new friends – Kali Rankin and Arvin Covey. Kali’s from the drama club,” Mason rambled.

“And Arvin’s from cheerleading. They’re actually trying to recruit me – I don’t know what to choose though.”

“Awww. My baby brother is making friends already!” Louie teasingly cooed.

“Stop it dude…” Mason grumbled, making Louie laugh.

Louie finally said, “Mace, join any club you’re comfortable with.”

“Like the chess team?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But I kinda wanna try drama…”

“Then try it!”

A beat of silence. Mason also wanted to tell his brother about Arvin. About how he can’t take his eyes off him – is this what they call a crush? What is this? Crush at first sight? He decided to leave it out when he relayed to him his weekend plans.

“Arvin wanna invite us this weekend to his house. He lives in San Myshuno in an apartment and his family owns it! Remember the building beside the karaoke bar we went to last winter? Apparently, that’s them!”

“Haha, ain’t this a small world? Did you ask Mama and Papa?”

“Yeah, I did. They said yes as long as I get home before five.”

“Great. Do you want me to go with?” Louie teased again.

“Bro?? I’m not a baby!”

Louie let out another laugh. Mason suddenly thought of something.

“Is Sid with you?” He asked.

“Yup!”

“Is she doing something?”

“The presentation. Want me to call her? Hold o – ”

“Is she busy? You don’t have to! I can text her later.”

“Oh, alright. I can tell it to her?”

“No!” Mason felt his chest beating fast. “It’s a secret.”

“You guys are keeping me in the dark again, huh?” Louie teased.

Mason chuckled. “I guess. Anyway, you should go back to your work. And I have a game with Kali too. Thanks for the chat. Love you bro.”

“Love you too. Tell Mama and Papa I said hi, okay?”

“I will.”

Beep.

Louie returned to his presentation. Sid asked him, “Was that Mace?”

“Yup. Just a quick chat about his school day. He said he made friends.”

“Aww, that’s cute! You know, we’ve never properly met Mason yet. When are you going to introduce us again?” Julie asked.

“Not around Bernie, though. He was intimidated by him.” Seamus shook his head.

Everyone let out a chuckle. Louie said, “I think he can handle Mr. Braxton now. He’s not a kid anymore after all.”

Kali Rankin was made by @cowplant-snacks from their Teen Townie Dump <3

[unclear-asdf]

Official name and ref for the Daley Gadwall version of @dailygolduck's Murkrow. Meet Braxton!

Just some flavor text for Art Fight and Toyhouse:

Braxton has been Daley's best friend for the longest time. Knowing each other since primary school, being separated during their high school years, before re-uniting in college where they continue to be roommates.

Brac is known for not taking anything too seriously. He loves dry, sarcastic humor.

His "dark secret" is that he's directly related to a mafia boss. This makes his family well-off, but he has seen things he'd rather forget. He's trying to distance himself from that side of the family as much as possible now.

Braxton realized he's aromantic/asexual pretty late in life. He has never felt any kind of desire to form a romantic relationship with anyone, nor any kind of attraction to anyone. Yes, I've drawn him with talon-hands before. Decided that he has wing-hands now.

[v3nusxsky]

can you write a fanfic about emily and R having a daughter?

A mini you

*Authors note~ I took a fair few creative liberties here. I wasn't sure what sides of this you wanted so I decided to try capture all points, I hope that's okay anon*

Trigger warnings~  fluff?

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

When you reach a certain age, it's only natural to think over your younger days. Remembering the good and the bad, reflecting on the years you'd lived. For you, that moment was happening now as you and your wife were getting ready to attend a wedding.

Emily and yourself were high school sweethearts, the kind that everyone just knew would stay together forever, if Emily was somewhere you weren't far behind. Even at the age of seventeen you knew you wanted her to be your wife. Emily was so unapologetically herself and that's what helped you come out to the world. Those times were some of the best, even when you were sneaking around to see one another. You even went to prom with her, you in this stunning maroon, floor length dress and her in this form fitting suit. That night she'd turned up at your house with a bunch of red roses for you. That night was certainly magical.

When you both finished school, Emily went through the FBI academy, you stood by her every step of the way while you went down a teaching route. You knew that work and home life would need to be kept separate as much as possible, if Emily had to go undercover then they couldn't recognise her as your partner. The day Emily got accepted into the BAU, she took you out to dinner and got down on one knee. You knew then this was your forever. Being her wife was a dream and you couldn't believe it was finally going to come true.

After your wedding things calmed down, you got to know the rest of the team, often coming in to see Garcia when the team were working a case, in your holidays you opted to work in Garcias office, the company was nice and if you got to hear your wife's voice then that was a bonus. Emily loved knowing you weren't alone while she was away so she would often come straight to Garcias office after arriving back to steal a quick hug and kiss from you.

Children were something you always knew you wanted, Emily too. And with her job it made offending IVF easy. The decision on who would carry your child was easy, Emily loved being in the field and being pregnant would make that rather difficult for her, you didn't mind carrying your child but you had one request. "Emi I want a mini you, those dimples, those eyes and that hair. Your kind heart and smart mouth" you murmured one night. So it was decided you'd use Emily's egg but you'd carry the baby. And that's how you were given your beautiful daughter Delilah Faye.

You'll never forget the day you went into labour, a slow day for the BAU, paperwork really and you were with Garcia getting a drink in the little kitchen. You'd ignored the niggly pains you'd been having putting them down to Braxton and hicks, but when your water broke, the squeal of Garcia alerted your wife and the rest of the team to what it really was. Your wife instantly hoping into protection mode, she and Garcia helped you to the car before she took you the hospital, thankfully all the bags had taken residence in her boot weeks ago.

Delilah's infant days were certainly an adjustment, Emily had two weeks off to help you but that flew by. You adored having your daughter to care for, a little piece of Emily while she was away. Realistically, she was a very easy baby, but completely a mamas girl. In her toddler years she showed just how much of her mothers fiery temper she had, if Emily had a case and Delilah wanted her mama you knew about it. It often upset you thinking she didn't love you the same way. Every time you felt such a way your wife was quick to remind you Delilah loves her momma just as much, it's just because Emily has to travel so often that she clings to her so much.

As Delilah aged, you began to see just what Emily was saying, Delilah was five the first time you had to leave for a teachers conference, you hadn't expected her to cry and cling on to you as you kissed them bye. She even had Emily FaceTime you before bedtime. She snuggled into your wife as you talked her about her day and how much you love and missed her. Only then did she fall asleep snuggled on your wife's chest. The sight truly making your heart ache, the two raven haired beauties so far away from you, you began to wonder if this is how Emily felt when she was away with work.

You and Emily were both present on the day she started high school, her teenage mindset not wanting to be embarrassed as you both dropped her off, "mommmm!" She whined seeing you crying slightly, "mama she's crying again." Your wife chuckled and they both said their goodbyes before driving away far enough to not be seen. She parked up and pulled you into her arms. "Angel, she'll be okay" she reassured as you sniffled into her shoulder, "she's all grown up em" you mumbled truly craving those baby days back, where she was so small and needed you both. "Come on angel let's get you to your work children."

The day Delilah left for college you both cried and laughed at how the moving process went. Your wife quick to remind you the perks of an empty house and your daughter quick to remind you she was more than ready for this step. Clearly you were the emotional one that day, you reminded her she can always come home and you and Emily were only a phone call away. That memory triggering the one where she was a scared twelve year old who just got her first period. She came in to your bedroom on a rare weekend that Emily was home thinking she was dying. She just needed the comfort and guidance of her mothers and you both gave her that, she would always have that ready and waiting should she need it.

Before her final year in college she brought home her first boyfriend. This time it was Emily who needed to be reminded that Delilah was smart and wouldn't choose anyone unworthy. She knew her self worth you'd both made sure of that. Emily couldn't help but profile the guy though, and she made sure to keep a protective eye on Delilah. Even going as far to warn him on all the things she could make happen if he ever hurt her in any way shape of form.

The same boyfriend was about to marry your daughter, he became just as much a child to you as your work children. He made your little girl happy and that was all that matters. After all they shared a love similar to you and Emily and that was truly the highlight of your life. Your daughter truly was a mini Emily, even opting for a similar style of clothing as your wife. It was clear she admired her, but she would adopt traits that were undeniably you. And that's what you'd always dreamed of, a mini Emily mixed with the better parts of you. Your perfect flower, only now she'd bloomed and now was going to be someone else's. That's okay though because she will always be yours and Emily's daughter, the miracle of your lives.

Word count~ 1314

[callsign-dexter]

My Daughter, My Heart Prolog

Summary: Jake had it good, he had the girl of his dreams, a good job, and a great friend circle until he got called up on a dangerous mission that would be a year-long deployment. He thought to himself that he couldn't break the heart of his love if he didn't return. So, he decided to go ahead and break her heart by moving out. Only he didn't know was that a special little girl would come into his life and make him whole again.

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Ex-Girlfriend (OC: Elizabeth Taylor), Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Angst

Masterlist

My Daughter, My Heart

A/N: sorry for the shortness! It is just a background of Jake having it good until he decided to mess it up.

Prolog Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Jake Seresin and Elizabeth Nicole Taylor were both madly in love with each other. They fell in love their senior year of high school and stayed together throughout Jake's time at the Naval Academy, where he met his only friend Javy Machado aka Coyote, flight school, and her time at college. Javy became quick friends with Elizabeth and to this day keeps in touch with her.

Everything was going well, the relationship was going great until Jake got his deployment papers. He kept them a secret from her and decided to break her heart instead of crushing it if he didn't make it back home. Jake had secretly bought another house and while Elizabeth was at work Jake moved everything he had into the new house. She came home to an empty house, her stuff, the couch, the TV, and all of the bedroom items were still there, but his stuff was gone. She tried to reach out to him but he had already left on his deployment and the only way she found was through Javy. She was devastated, it made her sick and she kept getting sick, especially in the mornings or certain smells. She decided to take a pregnancy test and waited the required time for it to be done and it was positive, she immediately called Javy and explained everything and he was over there in an instant.

She couldn't stay in there any more so she moved to sunny San Diego when she was 2 months along where she met Grant Mason Braxton. They dated 7 months until they decided to get engaged on December 29th. 2 days after they got engaged is when Y/N Y/M/N Seresin was born December 31, 2017. When Y/N was 3 months is when Jake came back from his deployment. He decided to man up and go see her and meet his daughter. He wants to be in her life.

October 2019 Jake 'Hangman' Seresin gets called back to Top Gun with his best friend Javy 'Coyote' Machado. Jake has been in his daughter life for 2 years and it was wonderful. He was the best dad to her and would drop everything for her if she needed him. After finding out that The Daggers are a permanent squad does he actually let them meet his daughter. They were surprised but decided that they liked this Jake.

Elizabeth agreed for Jake to be part of his little girl's life. It's rocky at first but it turns out they co-parent very well. She becomes everyone's favorite and they're all glad that Jake is a little bit nicer because his little girl brings out his soft side.

[cowgurrrl]

United in Grief

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (except this is all backstory)

Author’s note: I’m sorry

Summary: “My mom honks her car horn every time she drives past the cemetery her friend is buried in. This is what I think love is: everlasting. Deathless.” [1.8k]

Warnings: if you’ve been reading this far, you know what to expect

April 7th, 1998

You're trying to figure out how you got here. You think the nurses are trying to figure out the same thing. You answer their questions in between contractions, your body shaking and overheating all at the same time. Your water broke at home while you were getting ready for school. You probably shouldn't have even thought about going when your Braxton-Hicks contractions were so bad. Still, you needed to finish school somehow. You were sitting down in the bathroom when it happened.

"Is there anyone we can call for you?" A nurse asks, snapping you out of your head as she checks your and the baby's heart rate. "Boyfriend? Parents? Friend?"

"There's no boyfriend, and I don't think any of my friends care enough to come," you sigh, rubbing your belly. "Besides, everyone's still at school."

"What about your mom? I'm sure she'd want to be here with you." She says gently, but the words feel like sandpaper rubbing over your skin. The baby kicks, and you press your hand back, letting her know you feel her.

"If you can get her to answer the phone, it'd be a low-level miracle."

"She's not supportive?"

"Having a pregnant sixteen-year-old was never on the bucket list. She hasn't spoken to me since I told her about the baby. Neither has the father, and I… I understand what it looks like." you say. You've read the statistics about teen moms and how they are less likely to finish high school. You're determined not to be a part of that statistic. You will make life perfect for this baby. No matter the cost. "But I got emancipated when I was three months pregnant, and I'm living in an apartment owned by one of my classmate's dads, and he's giving me reduced rent. And I work part-time at a restaurant. People love to tip the pregnant girl, right? So, we'll be okay. I'll be okay."

"It's okay if you're not." The nurse says, but you shake your head.

"I need to be okay for her."

"You're having a girl?" She asks, and you hum. She smiles and glances at the different machines you're hooked up to, making sure everything is in order. "Well, it sounds like she's very lucky to have you as her mama."

"Thank you." You mumble. It's the nicest thing anyone's said to you in months.

The nurse stays with you as your contractions get closer together and more painful. She rubs your back when you throw up and keeps you upright when they administer your epidural. Eventually, in your drugged-up, sleep-deprived state, you ask her to, at least, try to call some people for you. You give her Matt, your mom's, and a few friends' phone numbers. If anyone answers, she doesn't tell you. She doesn't have to. She just returns and perches on the edge of your bed, her hand resting on your knee.

"Y'know, I have a daughter about your age," she says. "She's super smart. Motivated. Beautiful, too, and don't get me wrong. She's made some mistakes. Some really big ones. But I'd hope that if she were ever in this position, I'd be able to find the courage to be as brave as you are right now," she squeezes your knee, and you wipe at your eyes, unexpected tears leaking from your eyes. "We're gonna help you have this little girl, okay?"

She doesn't leave your side, even when you're yelling loud obscenities, and the room devolves into controlled chaos. She coaches you through every contraction and even braids your hair so it's out of your sweaty face. Your doctor and two other nurses come in once you're fully dilated to help support you and the doctor. The rain outside pounds harder on the windows as you try to push and breathe when you're supposed to, but it's so hard, and you're so tired. You've been working too hard. You haven't been sleeping enough. You definitely haven't been drinking enough water. What if you've already fucked up as a mom? What if there's no coming back from this?

Your doctor says something about needing to push harder; otherwise, you'll have to have an emergency c-section, and you start sobbing— full-bodied, earth-shattering sobs. The nurse who braided your hair shushes you gently and dabs a damp rag against your forehead. You look at her and cry harder.

"I'm scared." You admit.

"I know you are, baby, but you're so close. Can I tell you something I tell my daughter?" She asks, and you nod through your tears. "Whenever you're feeling scared, just squeeze my hand as hard as you can, and I'll take all your fear from you, alright? Show me what you got." She takes your hand in yours, and you squeeze as the next contraction takes your attention. A few minutes later, in a room full of women, you deliver your daughter with a scream loud enough to shake the entire floor, but she's silent. You look at the nurse holding your hand worriedly.

"She's not crying. Why isn't she crying?"

"Sometimes, babies have a hard time adjusting to being outside the womb. We'll get her crying, don't worry." Time seems to freeze as you watch the doctor rub your daughter's back until she rears her head back and wails. You let out a big breath, and a moment later, she's placed on your chest. You don't realize you're still holding the nurse's hand, but she doesn't let go. She lets you squeeze her until you stop shaking long enough to put your other hand on the back of your daughter's head.

She's so small and has so much hair. You stare down at her like she's the most precious jewel anyone could've ever discovered as she cries and cries. You kiss her forehead and vaguely tune into something the doctor is trying to tell you about recovery. You nod, but you're not listening. You're focusing on how your daughter's lungs expand and contract and how her heart beats against yours like it was always meant to be. Like it was forever and always supposed to be you and her.

You let the nurse holding your hand take the baby to get cleaned up as the rest of the nurses and the doctor run around to ensure you have everything you need. Once things settle and your daughter is back in your arms, people gradually leave the room for you to bask in her beauty. Now that she's here, everything seems so real, so important. The weight on your shoulders doesn't feel as heavy with her next to you, but it's still there. You're sure you'll cry later about not knowing what the fuck you're doing, but it's okay. It has to be. You're a mom now.

"I'm gonna go get some paperwork done, okay? If you need anything, even if it's just a friend, you press this button." The nurse says, putting the call button next to you in bed, and you nod.

"Thank you…" you trail off, realizing the nurse never told you her name, and she smiles, looking between you and the baby.

"Jane."

June 2nd, 2008

You're trying to figure out how you got here, outside the walls but in the opposite direction of the Shell station. You told Lee you didn't want to do any more drops so close to when Jane gets out of school. Still, the promised payout was enough of an incentive. You and Mrs. Carmichael have gotten closer since Adam died. She told you about her husband, who died long before the outbreak, and how she never changed her name back. You told her about Adam and what he meant to you. It felt like soldiers passing war stories back and forth to figure out why they were thrust onto battlefields, trying to find out what they did wrong to get drafted into a war they never imagined. She's kind. You trust her. It made sense to ask her to pick Jane up today.

Jane's been having a hard time in the past few months. A few weeks after Adam died, she asked you if he was her father. She admitted she doesn't remember much from before the outbreak and told you she vaguely remembers Outbreak Day. She's never really known a world without Adam until now. You wanted to lie and say yes. You wanted to tell her that, of course, she was a product of this beautiful, kind, amazing man. You wanted her never to know or claim Matt. You still don't know why you said no.

She barely wanted to celebrate her birthday two months ago but plastered on a smile when you surprised her with new notebooks and pencils for her to write with. These days, she's locking herself in her room with Adam's radio and her words. You remind her you love her and are there to talk, but she just nods and disappears. She's getting older. You can't shield her from the world forever, but goddammit, if you can't try for as long as you can.

You've connected with two guys on the radio who have a safe house in a safe, abandoned neighborhood in Boston. They've been giving you tips on how to find and keep a safe place outside of the QZ. With all the smugglers, weapons dealers, and survival skills you know, for the first time, it's feasible. It's possible. You could take her out of the QZ and build her that home in the forest where she could actually be a kid. You just need a few months. You can do it. You will do it for her.

Catherine's group shows up right on time, a desperate attempt to show how sorry they are for what happened the last time they were late. You don't make eye contact with her as you trade for the shit you need to. She's about to open her mouth to say something, and your fists ball up at whatever she could have to say when an ear-splitting sound emerges from the QZ. The ground shakes with the force, and you reach for your gun like you're waiting for it to happen again.

"Probably some Fireflies and FEDRA playing hot potato again," one of Catherine's guys says. "They've been throwing bombs at each other for the past month in our QZ." And just like that night you first saw fighter jets circling your city, you get an unmistakable sinking feeling in your stomach.

You start running back, praying to whatever god will still take pity on you after every sin you've committed to keep your little girl safe.

You wish you knew your prayers were landing on deaf ears. You would've run faster.

[aurumacadicus]

We're not foolin', the next month of book club starts on April 1st! If you're interested in book club, feel free to send me a message or ask and I'll send you the Discord link. All the book summaries are under the cut. Happy voting!

The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Avery Grambs has a plan for a better future: survive high school, win a scholarship, and get out. But her fortunes change in an instant when billionaire Tobias Hawthorne dies and leaves Avery virtually his entire fortune. The catch? Aver has no idea why – or even who Tobias Hawthorne even is.

To receive her inheritance, Avery must move into sprawling, secret passage-filled Hawthorne House, where every room bears the old man’s touch – and his love of puzzles, riddles, and codes. Unfortunately for Avery, Hawthorne House is also occupied by the family that Tobias Hawthorne just dispossessed. This includes the four Hawthorne grandsons: dangerous, magnetic, brilliant boys who grew up with every expectation that one day, they would inherit billions. Heir apparent Grayson Hawthorne is convinced that Avery must be a conwoman, and he’s determined to take her down. His brother, Jameson, views her as their grandfather’s last hurrah: a twisted riddle, a puzzle to be solved. Caught in a world of wealth and privilege, with danger around every turn, Avery will have to play the game herself just to survive.

Suitors and Sabotage by Cindy Anstey

Two young people must hide their true feelings for each other while figuring out who means them harm in this cheeky Regency romance from the author of Love, Lies, and Spies and Duels & Deception.

Shy aspiring artist Imogene Chively has just had a successful Season in London, complete with a suitor of her father’s approval. Imogene is ambivalent about the young gentleman until he comes to visit her at the Chively estate with his younger brother in tow. When her interest is piqued, however, it is for the wrong brother.

Charming Ben Steeple has a secret: despite being an architectural apprentice, he has no drawing aptitude. When Imogene offers to teach him, Ben is soon smitten by the young lady he considers his brother’s intended.

But hiding their true feelings becomes the least of their problems when, after a series of “accidents,” it becomes apparent that someone means Ben harm. And as their affection for each other grows—despite their efforts to remain just friends—so does the danger… The Spirit Bares Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White

Mors vincit omnia. Death conquers all.

London, 1883. The Veil between the living and dead has thinned. Violet-eyed mediums commune with spirits under the watchful eye of the Royal Speaker Society, and sixteen-year-old Silas Bell would rather hip out his violet eyes than become an obedient Speaker wife. According to Mother, he’ll be married by the end of the year. It doesn’t matter that he’s needed a decade of tutors to hide his autism; that he practices surgery on slaughtered pigs; that he is a boy, not the girl the world insists on seeing.

After a failed attempt to escape an arranged marriage, Silas is diagnosed with Veil sickness—a mysterious disease sending violet-eyed women into madness—and shipped away to Braxton’s Sanitorium and Finishing School. The facility is cold, the instructors merciless, and the students either bloom into eligible wives or disappear. So when the ghosts of missing students start begging Silas for help, he decides to reach into Braxton’s innards and expose its rotten guts to the world—as long as the school doesn’t break him first.

Etiquette & Espionage by Gail Carriger

It’s one thing to learn to curtsy properly. It’s quite another to learn to curtsy and throw a knife at the same time. Welcome to Finishing School.

Fourteen-year-old Sophronia is a great trial to her poor mother. Sophronia is more interested in dismantling clocks and climbing trees than proper manners—and the family can only hope that company never sees her atrocious curtsy. Mrs. Temminnick is desperate for her daughter to become a proper lady. So she enrolls Sophronia in Mademoiselle Geraldine’s Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality.

But Sophronia soon realizes the school is not quite what her mother might have hoped. At Mademoiselle Geraldine’s, young ladies learn to finish…everything. Certainly, they learn the fine arts of dance, dress, and etiquette, but they also learn to deal out death, diversion, and espionage—in the politest possible ways, of course. Sophronia and her friends are in for a rousing first year’s education.

Rosemary and Rue by Seanan McGuire

October “Toby” Daye, a changeling who is half human and half fae, has been an outsider from birth. After getting burned by both sides of her heritage, Toby has denied the Faerie world, retreating to a “normal” life. Unfortunately for her, the Faerie world has other ideas…

The murder of Countess Evening Winterrose pulls Toby back into the fae world. Unable to resist Evening’s dying curse, which binds her to investigate, Toby must resume her former position as knight errand and renew old alliances. As she steps back into fae society, dealing with a cast of characters not entirely good or evil, she realizes that more than her own life will be forfeited if she cannot find Evening’s killer.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

On a bitter-cold day, in the December of his junior year at Harvard, Sam Masur exits a subway car and sees, amid the hordes of people waiting on the platform, Sadie Green. He calls her name. For a moment, she pretends she hasn’t heard him, but then, she turns, and a game begins; a legendary collaboration that will launch them to stardom. These friends, intimates since childhood, borrow money, beg favors, and, before even graduating college, they have created their first blockbuster, Ichigo. Overnight, they world is theirs. Not even twenty-five years old, Sam and Sadie are brilliant, successful, and rich, but these qualities won’t protect them from their own creative ambitions of the betrayals of their hearts.

Spanning thirty years, from Cambridge, Massachusetts, to Venice Beach, California, and lands in between and far beyond, Gabrielle Zeven’s Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow is a dazzling and intricately imagined novel that examines the multifarious nature of identity, disability, failure, the redemptive possibilities in play, and above all, our need to connect: to be loved and to love. Yes, it is a love story, but it is not one you have read before.

Gwen & Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher

It’s been hundreds of years since King Arthur’s reign. His descendant, Arthur, a future Lord and general gadabout, has been betrothed to Gwendoline, the quick-witted, short-tempered princess of England, since birth. The only thing they can agree on is that they despise each other.

They’re forced to spend the summer together at Camelot in the run-up to their nuptials, and within 24 hours, Gwen has discovered Arthur kissing a boy, and Arthur has gone digging for Gwen’s childhood diary and found confessions about her crush on the kingdom’s only lady knight, Bridget Leclair.

Realizing they might make better allies than enemies, Gwen and Art make a reluctant pact to cover for each other, and as things heat up at the annual royal tournament, Gwen is swept off her feet by her knight, and Arthur takes an interest in Gwen’s royal brother. Lex Croucher’s Gwen & Art Are Not in Love is chock full of sword-fighting, found family, and romantic shenanigans destined to make readers fall in love.

[mint-8]

Danganronpa x Class of 09

Trigger warning: Drugs, school shooters.

I had the idea earlier today.

What if the characters from Class of 09 were in the Danganronpa universe?

If it was a game, then everyone would have a fake talent and their hidden talent, and the only way to get out of the school is to either find someone else’s true talent or killing them! This would include the students, teachers and other characters from the game.

It would take place in Lake Braddock Secondary School and the entire building would be completely boarded up, like in Danganronpa Trigger Happy Havoc.

I’m not sure whether the characters would forget all their memories and just have vague recollections of each other, while keeping their personalities the same; or maintaining them as they are, maybe taking place after the events of Class of 09 and Class of 09: The Re-Up.

I don’t have every talent for every character, but here are some that came to mind.

Students:

Nicole

Fake talent: Super High School Level New Kid

Real talent: Super High School Level Sociopath

Trody

Fake talent: ???

Real talent: Super High School Level Dropout

Jecka (Jessica)

Fake talent: Super High School Level Prep

Real talent: ???

Ari

Fake talent: Super High School Level Scout Girl

Real talent: Super High School Level Lesbian

Emily

Fake talent: Super High School Level Scene Kid

Real talent: Super High School Level Drug addict

Hunter

Fake talent: Super High School Level Religious kid

Real talent: Super High School Level Cheater

Crispin

Fake talent: ???

Real talent: Super High School Level Creep

Jeffrey

Fake talent: Super High School Level Otaku

Real talent: Super High School Level Shooter

Kylar

Fake talent: Super High School Level Lacrosse player

Real talent: Super High School Level Misogynist

Kelly

Fake talent: Super High School Level Rich kid

Real talent: Super High School Level Slut

Kyle

Fake talent: ???

Real talent: Super High School Level Psychopath

Megan

Fake talent: Super High School Level Theater actress

Real talent: Super High School Level Tantrum kid

Karen

Fake talent: Super High School Level Nerd

Real talent: Super High School Level Bulimia

Braxton

Fake talent: ???

Real talent: Super High School Level Drug Dealer

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Teenage Wasteland

On the sixth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A steamy Christmas Resort meet cute with praise kink!Sammy!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Snowflakes of Love" by Toni Braxton

Trope: Christmas Resort

~~~

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, praise kink

Words: 2.8k

Author's Note: Sorry it's late tonight... I had such a fierce craving for melted cheese that I grappled with myself about ordering some cheese sticks forever before I gave into the craving, and that took some time off my hands. Whoops! Here you go, though, and I hope everyone who's planning on watching the concert tonight has fun!

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

If there was ever a time that you were glad your mother seemed to have partied herself into someone else’s bed, it was now. Because somehow, someway, you'd managed to party the sexiest man you’d ever seen into yours. And if there had been someone in your shared room, you wouldn’t have his lips at your throat, his hands sliding up your dress to your breasts, or his rock hard cock against your hip as you tugged him into the room.

And that would have been the biggest damn tragedy you’d ever experienced.

“Thank god she’s not here,” you sighed, leading him to the bed in a way you hoped didn’t reveal just how desperate you were to feel him on your skin. “We’d have had to fuck in a storage closet if she was.”

He chuckled, precisely undoing what few buttons were connecting his shirt, and then gently put his hand over yours as you struggled with your dress zipper. “I’d have done it anywhere, anytime. All you had to do was say the words,” he purred, taking over for you. 

 Sam. He’d said his name was Sam.

…

Being pushed into a stranger’s arms was something that had its merits, at times. Like in movies, where a strong, sexy firefighter catches you as you’re pushed into the street. Or when it was a billionaire playboy just destined to fall for you.

But when it was very reminiscent of a scene from “High School Musical,” and all eyes were on you as the DJ felt the need to point out that no one had asked you to dance as the clock counted down to Christmas – no. This was not one of those times.

The only thing keeping you from bolting the second attentions were turned away was the fact that the man you’d been pushed into was one of the most beautiful creatures you’d ever been close enough to touch. 

That fact was the one that had you chuckling, uncharacteristically hesitant, as your partner moved into position, fumbling a little bit with hand placement at first but quickly getting into the swing of things. “Um…sorry that you were pressured into this, it was a real dick move of the DJ,” you scoffed, voice a little small and insecure.

But the man just stared at you, confusion twisting his mouth into a slight smile. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice happy and welcoming and warm. “The DJ’s my main man Danny – I asked him to do this.”

You felt your face heat under the festive red and green spotlights swinging around the room. “Wha-- wait, really?” 

Doubt poured out of every pore in your body, it seemed, and the handsome stranger took his hand from yours to cross his heart. “I’m being totally serious. I couldn’t let a pretty thing like you walk away without a partner,” he flirted, coming in close enough that you could smell his cologne.

'Expensive' was what it smelled like.

“Well,” you responded, relaxing a bit in the lowering tensions. Something about this man was strangely comfortable. “Here I am, stranger.”  There was no harm in flirting back a little, right? It was one of the last days you had at the resort - you could live what precious days you had left of your teenage years out in true 'teen dream' fashion.

“Hopefully not for long," the man said, leading you around the dance floor in a simple step-and-rock. "My name is Sam, and I think this Christmas, Santa might have actually put me on the nice list for once.”

…

“You work wonders with that little mouth of yours,” Sam groaned, hand laced through your hair as you bobbed up and down on his dick. Every time you hit a good spot with a wet swipe of your tongue, he jerked; not up into your mouth, though – almost away from your mouth. “Don’t make me cum too soon, pretty thing, I have to wrap the gift before I give it.”

You had to pull off to giggle, looking up at him as he grinned down at you. “Your dick’s a gift now, huh? I think,” you said, demurely crawling up his thin body, “that maybe I should be the judge of that.”

Sam’s hands wandered up and down your curves as you kissed him, hot and heavy and deep. It felt like you were finally getting that moment that all the coming of age films put in the minds of impressionable pre-teens: a party, a handsome stranger, a sloppy makeout session, and the promise of more all as you kept glancing towards the door to make sure your Mom didn’t come back.

“Condom’s in my wallet,” Sam panted, breaking away from your red, swollen lips after searching every inch your mouth had to offer with his tongue. After getting up so that he could retrieve it and put it on, he crawled over you, his long, beautiful hair curtaining you both from the impersonal décor of the resort room. “But I bet I can prove it to you,” he said, in what was supposed to be arrogance, you thought, but the slight shake and nervous voice crack gave you the idea that despite his beauty, he either didn’t do this much or was a little bit on the inexperienced side.

When his fingers met your core, though, and delved into you before hooking and stroking like he’d crafted each nerve himself– there was nothing inexperienced about this skill of his at all.

…

“It’s just me, my older sister and my uncle here,” Sam said, lowering himself into the hot tub in just his boxers. Neither of you had wanted to take the trip to get your swimsuits, so you decided to risk being caught and just stripped to your underwear, not even trying to hide the fact that you were both looking as the other took off their clothes. “My twin older brothers were supposed to come, too, but then they– well, it’s not important what they did, but my parents grounded them.”

“Wait,” you said, brow furrowing. “How old are you? How old are they?” You didn’t want to accidentally prey on someone under 18 just because they looked older than you.

Sam gave a little quirk of a smile. “I’m 19, they’re 22. But they weren’t about to tell my mom and dad to fuck off.”

That was a relief to hear. About his age - although you supposed it was also a good thing that his brothers still listened to their parents, too. “It’s my mom and I,” you replied, going back to the original conversation. “Her girlfriends all pitched in and got her and I this trip as a Christmas gift. And my mom needed a vacation.” You thought back to the year behind you and some of the trials and tribulations you’d both gone through, but specifically her, and wondered if they were really something that should be shared with a complete stranger. Especially one who was obviously down for some extended nighttime activities, from how he’d been flirting.

“Something on your mind?”

You blinked back to the present and chuckled, shaking the thoughts off. “It’s nothing. So you said you’re in a band, huh? Any good?”

Sam’s eyes lit up, and you wondered if they’d been successful at all or not – he still loved doing it, so it seemed. “I dunno, ask our Grammy.”

…

As Sam’s hips pistoned in and out of you, you let out a quiet mewl every time he pushed in to the hilt. His breaths were even more labored, and he was panting like a dog into your neck while he pawed at your tits and grabbed at your hips for more purchase, like he didn’t know what exactly he wanted to use his hands for first.

You stood by your earlier theory, that maybe he didn’t have quite as much experience as that cocky facade was there to make you think he did, but the sex was good, he had more than enough length and girth to keep you stretched out and filled up, and you could see your orgasm on the horizon.

So, even though he didn’t seem to need it, you dug into your little box of kinks you had and began to let out praises and encouragement, excited to see what kind of reaction they’d get you. With your lips at his ear, you said, “God, Sam, you fill me up so well. They say if they’re hot, they can’t fuck, but they’ve clearly never met you.”

Sam’s grip tightened on you and he whined, his hips picking up speed. But he was a rockstar; it really wasn’t a surprise that he craved attention and validation from others. He readjusted his position and flipped your around to your hands and knees, slipping and sliding around a bit when he tried to re-enter you from behind. “I wouldn’t be half as good of a fuck if this pussy wasn’t made to take my cock.” He found purchased and didn't hold back like he had the first time.

You groaned and hung your head low, letting your body shake with each thrust into you and desperately hoping that these walls were thick enough for the sake of your neighbors. “Tonight it was,” you agreed, brushing off the fact that you’d likely never see him again after. “Oh shit, Sam, right there– yes, fuck, you’ve got it! Keep hitting me right there and I’ll cum for you,” you promised readily, knowing that you would if he kept catching your g-spot like that. “All over that perfect cock, pretty boy.”

Your plea was low and your promise sincere, but Sam wanted more. “Yeah? How good am I making you feel?” He was shamelessly fishing for more compliments, and you were more than glad to give them.

“Well, I’m about to cum, if that answers it,” you chuckled breathlessly. “Not very many men can make me cum from just their cock alone.”

With a boost of confidence, Sam set his sights on that goal and used your shoulder as a handle to pull you back with, hitting deeper than he had before. It was enough to put you teetering on the edge, and if he could just hold off for a few more well-placed thrusts, you’d fall. “You call me pretty, you make me feel like a sex-god – I don’t know where you’re from, but I’m following you there,” he murmured, his bony, callused fingers digging in harder as his rhythm faltered for a second, then picked up again. 

“You’re so pretty, Sam,” you said honestly. 

He seemed to really like all your affirmations, and this time, they were all true – which wasn’t something you could say for all the men you’d been with. There had been times you praised and flattered them just so that you could get yourself off afterwards, since all men were suckers for compliments. 

Sam, though, hit all your checkmarks and then some. He hummed out something that sounded vaguely like, “More,” but the toll of exertion garbled it.

Either way, you were only more than happy to say ‘more.’ “The most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and I can’t believe you’re in my bed tonight. The faces you make, even how you–" you were interrupted by a flash of pleasure as he did something with his hips that was no beginner's move, "--how you look fucking sweating– god, I could look at you forever.” Sam’s hips jerked directly into your g-spot then, and it was all you needed to arch your back and gasp, quickly reaching down to circle your clit and extend the orgasm that overtook you. Sam let out a strangled moan from behind you and, with a few more uneven thrusts, buried himself deep inside of you and pulsed, filling up the condom he’d donned. 

As both of you caught your breaths, you shakily lowered yourself down to your forearms and Sam followed, trying to chase the warmth of your cunt that he didn’t seem quite ready to leave, yet. You felt his weight settle on top of you, and the pressure across your body felt…really nice. Like an extra-weighted blanket that kissed your neck and had a hummingbird heartbeat that you could feel where it was pressed to your shoulder blade.

“I’m gonna have to leave soon, aren’t I?” he said softly, dread clear in his tone.

You chuckled from underneath him. “Maybe. But not right now. Right now, you stay right where you are.”

He listened readily, even if he did eventually pull away to take the condom off and hide it in a piece of toilet paper. When he returned, he sat next to you instead of climbing back on top, and you missed his warmth, but you were also tuckered out, and once Sam started trailing his hand up and down your spine, you didn’t know you’d fallen asleep until you woke up, alone in the room.

The door slipped shut – you figured that was what woke up, and the dark shape that turned out to be your mom whispered, “Sorry!” as you sat up, a different name than hers on your lips.

Oh well. It was bound to happen, so you didn’t let the fact that Sam had left without a goodbye keep you from returning to sleep. After you dragged yourself up and to the bathroom, because a UTI was enough to keep you from sleeping again, wrapped in the blanket you’d brought and hoping that your mom didn’t know you were naked underneath it as you passed each other in the room.

…

Considering that you were the one that was supposed to be jumpy after a night out, you found your mom’s behavior strange the next morning at breakfast. Restless, searching, and barely touching her plate, you raised your brows as she acted like a kid on Christmas. Which was apt, considering that it was Christmas. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking towards the door where she’s fixed her eyes.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I just…met someone last night?”

A smile spread out across your lips. Because it definitely hadn’t been obvious this morning when she came in smelling like a man, and that thought wiped the smile right off your lips. Because if you could smell her date’s cologne…then shit.

“That’s cool,” you replied mildly. The last thing you wanted to do was give off the impression that you expected anything from her, whether that be a committed relationship or for her to be celibate until she died. She deserved happiness in whichever form it found her, and you weren’t going to let her worry for you ruin anything. 

She smiled, then, real big and genuine. “There he is! Act cool, act cool!” 

“You’re the one freaking out!” you giggled, ducking away with your toast as she batted at you. Turning your head to look over your shoulder in order to see her mystery man, you cocked it with what little neck movement you had left. You didn’t know him, that was for sure. Never seen him before in your life. But something about him was…familiar. 

He greeted you mom with a big smile as well and a smooth kiss to her cheek when she stood up to give him a quick, bashful hug, sneaking in glances at you as she did. “Y/N…this is Joe.”

Not to be taken lightly, you stood up – still shorter than the stranger, but trying to impose your presence by being the first to put your hand out. “Hi, Joe.”

The man looked at you with a glint in his eye that you could have sworn you’d seen somewhere else. The TV? An ad? Who knew, but it was making your eye twitch that you didn’t have an answer. 

“Hello, Y/N – I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” He only grinned at your posturing on him. “My niece and nephew were getting ready in their room when I left, so they should be coming in a few minutes. They’re about your age, I think.” You nodded, still not breaking eye contact with this ‘Joe’ guy. “So that…you know, you won’t have to be stuck in our boring, adult-conversation world.”

Satisfied that you’d at least made him stutter, you smiled sweetly at him. “Right. Taxes and all, huh?” and sat down right as he let out a booming laugh that ended with, “There’s the sleeping beauties! Y/N, my Darling Date,” he said, motioning to your mom, who blushed at the name, “this is my niece, Ronnie, and my nephew, Sam.”

Your head nearly snapped backwards, and your mom moved in to shake their hands – sure enough, it was the beautiful boy who’d snuck out of your room just a few hours before and a girl that shared some of the exact same features that you also picked out on their uncle, and he was grinning like the sun had taken refuge in a puppy dog that had been turned into a human by a fairy or some shit.

While your mom cooed over his sister, you stood up so that you were face to face with Sam. He didn’t take his eyes of yours as he stuck his hand out. “Hi. I’m Sam, and I think Santa finally put me on the nice list this year.”

~~~

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[simpforfandom231]

The it-girl's soft side

In the bustling halls of Braxton High, where the hierarchy of popularity is as complex as the curriculum, Maeve Rosewood was the quiet enigma that defied expectations. With her soft red hair cascading like a gentle waterfall around her shoulders, and captivating blue eyes that held a world of hidden thoughts, Meave was the epitome of a shy, nerdy girl.

Her reputation as the cute, silent scholar with an undeniable flair for history was well-deserved. In the hallowed halls of academia, Maeve's brilliance shone, making her a standout student. But beyond her academic prowess, Maeve harbored a secret world of talents that few were privy to. She possessed a voice that was both soft and sweet, capable of weaving melodic tales in the form of songs, while her fingers danced effortlessly across the keys, creating harmonies that echoed with emotion. Unbeknownst to many, she was also a skilled gamer, finding solace in the pixelated adventures that awaited her on the screen.

Maeve's appearance, though elegant, betrayed her true nature. Freckles adorned her face like constellations in the night sky, a subtle reminder of the whimsical charm that lay beneath her reserved demeanor. Despite being undeniably attractive, Maeve chose the sanctuary of her books and her passions over the allure of popularity, content in the company of her two closest friends.

Ruby Landdale, the fierce companion in this trio, brought a contrasting energy to their circle. With her blond hair and brown eyes, Ruby's athletic frame hinted at a strength that complemented her bold spirit. Though not the stereotypical popular girl, Ruby exuded confidence and a love for feline companions, a facet of her personality that added an unexpected layer to her persona. While Meave found comfort in history, Ruby navigated the complexities of economics, proving that their bonds surpassed the boundaries of academics.

Completing the trio was Olivia Paxton, the brown-haired, green-eyed dynamo of the girl's soccer team. Despite her slightly higher standing on the school's social ladder, Olivia chose the genuine companionship of Meave and Ruby over the superficial allure of popularity. Her ability to stand up for herself, combined with her genuine warmth, made Olivia the bridge between the worlds of Maeve's quiet introspection and Ruby's fierce determination.

Together, Maeve, Ruby, and Olivia navigated the intricate tapestry of high school life at Braxton High, where the bonds of friendship triumphed over the superficial distinctions that sought to divide them.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of Braxton High as Meave, Ruby, and Olivia made their way to their lockers. The rhythmic hum of chatter filled the air as students hurried to exchange books and catch up on the latest gossip. Meave deftly navigated the crowd, her fingers lightly grazing the pages of her history textbook as she approached her locker, marked with a subtle assortment of stickers that reflected her eclectic tastes. Ruby, with her characteristic confidence, strode alongside her, occasionally tossing a friendly smile or a quick nod to familiar faces. Olivia, carrying her soccer gear, brought up the rear, her green eyes scanning the bustling hallway.

As the trio began to gather their belongings, Meave overheard snippets of a conversation nearby. Huddled in a corner were Margot and Billie, Rachel Zegler's loyal minions. The air seemed to crackle with the aftermath of an incident involving Peter, a fellow student known for his passion for chemistry and his gentle nature.

Ruby's eyes narrowed as she caught wind of the conversation. "Did you hear what Rachel did to Peter in chemistry class?" she whispered to Meave and Olivia, her voice tinged with concern.

The three friends leaned in, their curiosity piqued by the brewing drama. Olivia frowned, her soccer bag hanging over her shoulder. "No, spill the details. What happened?"

Meave's soft voice joined the conversation, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Yeah, tell us."

Ruby, with a glance over her shoulder to ensure their conversation remained discreet, recounted the incident. "So, Peter was doing his thing in chemistry, you know, being all passionate about it, when Rachel decides to mock him. She made fun of him in front of everyone, ridiculing his enthusiasm for science."

Olivia's expression hardened. "Seriously? That's low, even for Rachel."

Ruby nodded, her blond hair bouncing with determination. "We can't let her get away with that. Peter doesn't deserve that kind of treatment."

Meave, though usually reserved, felt a surge of empathy for Peter. "We should do something. Maybe talk to him, offer support."

Olivia, her wavy brown hair cascading over her shoulders, hesitated for a moment before voicing her concern. "Guys, I get that what Rachel did to Peter is messed up, but we need to be careful. Getting involved with Rachel can make things worse for us. You know how she operates."

Ruby crossed her arms, her expression defiant. "I don't care, Liv. Peter's our friend, and we can't just stand by while Rachel bullies him. We have to do something."

Olivia sighed, her green eyes reflecting a mix of caution and empathy. "Look, I'm not saying we should ignore it, but we have to be strategic. Rachel has her claws deep in this school's social scene. If we challenge her openly, she'll make sure we regret it."

Meave, the usually reserved one, chimed in with a thoughtful tone. "Olivia has a point. We don't want to become targets ourselves. Maybe there's a way to help Peter without directly confronting Rachel."

Ruby's expression softened as she considered the potential consequences. "Fine, but we can't just let Rachel get away with it. We have to find a way to make things right for Peter without putting ourselves in the crossfire."

Olivia nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We need to be smart about this, strategize, and maybe gather more information before we take any action. We can't afford to underestimate Rachel's vindictive nature."

The three friends exchanged a determined look, silently acknowledging the delicate balance they needed to strike. While the desire to stand up for Peter burned within them, the reality of dealing with Rachel Zegler's influence demanded a more cautious approach. Braxton High, with its intricate social dynamics, would prove to be a challenging battleground, but the trio was prepared to navigate it together, ensuring justice for Peter without falling victim to Rachel's schemes.

------------

In the heart of Braxton High's bustling corridors, Rachel Zegler moved with an air of calculated confidence. With her stunning dark brown hair flowing effortlessly down her back and her brown eyes radiating a mix of confidence and cunning, Rachel commanded attention wherever she went. Her killer body, sculpted through a combination of genetics and an unwavering commitment to maintaining her status, drew glances from both admirers and envious peers alike.

Freckles adorned Rachel's face, strategically placed as if to add an extra layer of charm to her already striking features. While her physical appearance was captivating, it was her sharp mind and shrewd understanding of the social dynamics that truly set her apart as Braxton High's undisputed queen bee.

As she navigated the crowded hallways, Rachel's gaze was not solely focused on her surroundings but rather on the power dynamics at play. Her two loyal minions, Margot and Billie, trailed behind her, mirroring her confident stride. Margot, with her sharp features and keen eyes, exuded a sense of unwavering loyalty, while Billie, with her flowing locks and polished demeanor, complemented the trio, forming a formidable alliance.

Rachel reveled in her position atop the social hierarchy, her influence extending like a web throughout the school. Despite her popularity, or perhaps because of it, Rachel harbored a penchant for exploiting the vulnerabilities of those who dared to challenge her. A reputation for cunning schemes and razor-sharp comebacks preceded her, leaving a trail of defeated foes in her wake.

Her interaction with Peter in chemistry class had been a calculated move, a demonstration of her prowess in maintaining control. To Rachel, it was not just about belittling an unsuspecting classmate; it was about reinforcing her dominance and instilling fear in those who dared to question her authority.

As she passed by lockers and groups of students, Rachel's thoughts focused on the intricate dance of power that defined high school life. Unbeknownst to her, a trio of determined friends had just caught wind of her latest exploit, and they were quietly plotting a course of action that would challenge the very foundations of Rachel Zegler's reign.

As Rachel Zegler and her entourage glided through the hallway, a subtle hush trailed in their wake. Meave, Olivia, and Ruby exchanged glances, recognizing the imposing force that was Rachel. Meave, however, felt an unexpected chill as her eyes locked with Rachel's confident gaze.

Caught in the intensity of that moment, Meave couldn't look away. Rachel, with her signature smirk, acknowledged the trio's presence and, to their surprise, delivered a sly wink in Meave's direction. The unexpected gesture left Meave momentarily stunned, her cheeks flushing with a mix of confusion and intrigue.

Ruby, always quick to respond, nudged Meave with a playful smirk. "Well, well, seems like the queen bee just noticed us. Or rather, noticed you, Meave."

Olivia, more cautious, shot a wary look at Rachel's departing figure. "Don't read too much into it, guys. Rachel's up to something, as always. Let's not get entangled in her games."

Meave, still processing the wink, shook her head, her soft voice carrying a note of uncertainty. "Yeah, you're probably right. Let's focus on helping Peter without getting too close to Rachel's radar."

The bell echoed through the corridors, signaling the transition to the next class. Meave and Olivia headed towards their history class, and Ruby made her way to the politics room, each carrying the weight of their respective subjects. Braxton High, with its maze of classrooms, seemed to morph into a battleground of academic pursuits.

As Meave and Olivia entered the history classroom, they found themselves amidst the familiar rows of desks arranged for the day's lesson. The room buzzed with conversations and the shuffling of papers as students settled in. Ms. Thompson, their history teacher, welcomed them with an enthusiastic smile that hinted at the passion she held for unraveling the mysteries of the past.

Taking their seats, Meave and Olivia exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging the shared journey through the labyrinth of Braxton High's academic challenges. Little did they know that the day would present them with a twist that involved none other than Rachel Zegler, the enigmatic queen bee of their high school.

Ms. Thompson announced a group assignment that would explore the socio-political implications of historical events. The anticipation in the room rose as students exchanged ideas, forming alliances for the task at hand.

Meanwhile, in the adjacent politics classroom, Ruby found herself surrounded by eager minds ready to dissect the complexities of governance and power. Mr. Hastings, the politics teacher, outlined their project – an analysis of contemporary political events with a focus on diplomacy and international relations.

Back in the history class, as Meave and Olivia were contemplating potential group members, a familiar voice cut through the air. Rachel, with her trademark confidence, spoke up, addressing the entire class.

"Hey, Meave! How about we team up for this project? I think our combined brilliance could make it a masterpiece."

Meave's blue eyes widened slightly at the unexpected proposal. Olivia shot Rachel a discerning look, sensing the ulterior motives that often accompanied Rachel's actions.

Rachel continued with a sly smile, "I've heard your insights into historical events are quite intriguing. It could be an enlightening collaboration."

Meave, though taken aback, managed a nod. "Um, sure, I guess."

Olivia, however, intervened with a raised eyebrow. "Rachel, what's the catch? You never just team up for the sake of academics."

Rachel chuckled, her brown eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, Olivia, you always see through me. Let's just say I find Meave's perspective on history fascinating, and I thought it would be a shame not to explore it together. Besides, I'm sure we'll learn so much from each other."

The air in the classroom crackled with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism as the trio reluctantly formed an unexpected alliance.

As the history class came to an end, the students gathered their belongings, ready to navigate the next challenge – a joint project exploring the intricacies of historical events. As Meave and Olivia exited the classroom, the lingering unease from Rachel's proposal still hung in the air.

In the crowded hallway, Rachel approached Meave with a confident sway in her hips, her dark brown hair cascading gracefully over her shoulders. The subtle hum of whispered conversations seemed to pause momentarily as Rachel leaned in, her lips curving into a sly smile.

"Meave, darling, I'm excited about our little project rendezvous at my place. I'm sure we'll find the perfect mix of brains and beauty to make it unforgettable," Rachel purred with a teasing tone that sent an unexpected shiver down Meave's spine.

Meave, momentarily stunned, managed a polite smile. "Uh, sure. Your place it is."

Rachel shot a wink at Meave before gliding away, leaving an air of mystery in her wake. As Rachel disappeared into the hallway crowd, Olivia and Ruby joined Meave, their eyes questioning.

"What was that about?" Olivia asked, her green eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Meave shook her head, bewildered. "I have no idea. She just said we'll meet up at her house for the project."

Ruby chimed in, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Well, that's unexpected. Be careful, Meave. Rachel's not known for being straightforward."

As the trio made their way through the hallways, they couldn't help but speculate about Rachel's motives. The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and the three friends found themselves outside, contemplating the impending collaboration.

Nervous anticipation gripped Meave as she pulled up to Rachel's imposing residence. The grandeur of the estate, coupled with the knowledge of Rachel's formidable reputation, left her with an undeniable sense of unease. As she approached the front door, Meave couldn't shake the feeling that this collaboration might prove to be more complicated than any historical event they were meant to explore.

Taking a deep breath, Meave pressed the doorbell, and the echo of its chime resonated through the lavish halls of Rachel's home. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Rachel standing there in all her casually elegant glory. The sight left Meave momentarily speechless.

Rachel, sporting sweatpants and a snug tank top, exuded an effortless allure that clashed with the extravagant surroundings. Despite the casual attire, there was an undeniable grace in the way Rachel carried herself. Meave couldn't help but feel a pang of self-consciousness, suddenly aware of her own more modest outfit.

With a flick of her dark brown hair, Rachel greeted Meave with a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Well, look who's here. Meave, darling, do come in."

As Meave stepped inside, her eyes inadvertently wandered, taking in the opulence of Rachel's surroundings. The grand staircase, the chandeliers casting a warm glow, and the air infused with a subtle hint of luxury—Meave couldn't help but feel like a fish out of water.

Rachel, unfazed by the palpable discomfort, led the way to the living room, where textbooks and notes were scattered across the coffee table. With a theatrical flourish, Rachel gestured for Meave to take a seat.

"Make yourself at home, dear. We have a project to conquer, after all," Rachel declared with a mockingly sweet smile, her diva attitude undiminished by the casual attire.

Meave, feeling a mix of nerves and bewilderment, sat down, arranging her materials with a sense of awkwardness. Rachel, on the other hand, took a seat with the regality of a queen on her throne, completely at ease in her own domain.

Throughout the evening, Rachel maintained her mean-girl, diva attitude, punctuating the collaborative effort with subtle jabs and condescending remarks. Meave, determined to rise above the tension, focused on the task at hand, though the challenge of navigating Rachel's complex personality proved more daunting than any historical puzzle.

As the night wore on, Meave couldn't shake the feeling that this collaboration would leave an indelible mark on the dynamics of Braxton High.

As the evening unfolded, Meave found herself surprised by the unexpected turn of events. Instead of the anticipated clash of egos, Rachel was surprisingly engaged in the project, working alongside Meave with a level of dedication that surpassed Meave's initial expectations.

With textbooks spread across the coffee table, the two girls delved into their exploration of historical events, tracing the threads of the past with an intellectual fervor that bridged the gap between their divergent personalities. Rachel's insightful contributions and genuine interest in the subject matter left Meave in awe.

In the midst of their collaborative efforts, Rachel interrupted their research with an unexpected offer. "Meave, do you need anything? A drink, perhaps? Snacks?"

Meave, taken aback by the sincerity in Rachel's voice, hesitated before responding, "Uh, sure, I guess a drink would be nice."

Rachel, with a faint smile, gracefully rose from her seat. "I'll be right back."

As Rachel disappeared into the depths of her extravagant home, Meave exchanged a perplexed glance with herself. This wasn't the Rachel Zegler she had expected – the manipulative mean girl was momentarily replaced by someone surprisingly considerate.

Returning with a tray of refreshments, Rachel set it down on the table. "Here you go, Meave. Tea or coffee?"

Meave, still adjusting to this unexpected turn of events, stammered, "Tea is fine, thank you."

Rachel poured a cup of tea, her movements fluid and deliberate. The two girls continued their work, sipping tea and exchanging thoughts on historical events. The walls of animosity seemed to crumble as the evening progressed, revealing a side of Rachel that Meave had never imagined.

As they worked together, Rachel subtly dropped her usual diva facade, showing a genuine interest in Meave's opinions and insights. It was as if the layers of Braxton High's social hierarchy were temporarily set aside, leaving only the shared passion for their project.

Unbeknownst to Meave, Rachel was harboring a secret crush, carefully concealed beneath her composed exterior. Her interactions with Meave, fueled by a desire to impress and connect on a more personal level, revealed a vulnerability that few were privy to.

As the night wore on, Rachel's mansion transformed from an imposing fortress to a space where two unlikely allies shared a common goal. Meave, fully immersed in the project and captivated by Rachel's unexpected kindness, couldn't deny the sense of camaraderie that had developed.

As the evening progressed, Meave found herself more and more captivated by the unexpected soft side of Rachel Zegler. The tea, snacks, and engaging conversation made the collaboration on their history project a surprisingly pleasant experience. Meave couldn't help but marvel at the transformation happening before her eyes.

"Who would've thought Rachel Zegler could actually be nice?" Meave teased, a playful grin on her face.

Rachel chuckled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, Meave Rosewood, there's always more to people than meets the eye. You might be surprised if you take the time to look."

The banter continued, each comment and exchange revealing another layer of the complex personalities beneath the surface. For a brief moment, it felt like the walls of Braxton High's social hierarchy had crumbled, leaving only the genuine connection between two individuals bound by a shared interest.

However, as they say, old habits die hard. Rachel, ever the it girl, couldn't resist the allure of her mean girl persona for long. When Meave playfully pushed the boundaries of their newfound camaraderie, teasing Rachel about her temporary departure from the usual diva attitude, Rachel's defense mechanisms snapped back into place.

"You know, Meave, this little truce doesn't mean you get to forget who I am," Rachel retorted with a smirk, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm still Rachel Zegler, and this project doesn't change a thing."

Meave, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, decided to tread lightly. "Fair enough, Rachel. Let's just focus on the project."

The tension lingered, but the work continued. As Meave reached for her tea, the cup slipped from her fingers, and the liquid spilled onto Rachel's lap. Time seemed to freeze as Meave's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, my gosh, Rachel, I'm so sorry!" Meave exclaimed, scrambling to grab some tissues to help clean up the mess.

Rachel, at first appearing shocked, quickly recovered and gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, isn't this just perfect? Ruining my outfit."

As Meave dabbed at the wet spots, Rachel's gaze shifted, and a sly smirk played on her lips. Meave, oblivious to Rachel's devious thoughts, continued apologizing.

"It was an accident, Rachel. I didn't mean to—"

Rachel interrupted, her tone dripping with mischief. "Accident or not, Meave, you really should be more careful."

It was then that Meave noticed Rachel's subtle change in demeanor. The smirk on Rachel's face widened as she saw Meave's gaze unintentionally shift to where the tea had left its mark on Rachel's tank top.

"Oh, what's this? Admiring the view, Meave?" Rachel teased, her diva attitude firmly back in place.

Meave, caught off guard, blushed furiously. "No! I was just trying to help clean up!"

Rachel, relishing the moment, laughed. "Well, consider it a lesson, Meave. Even when I'm being nice, I'm not one to be underestimated."

The atmosphere, once filled with camaraderie, had shifted back to the familiar dynamic between the quiet historian and the enigmatic queen bee. As Meave awkwardly tried to navigate the aftermath of the spilled tea, she couldn't shake the feeling that the delicate balance they had struck might be more fragile than she had initially thought. The rest of the evening would reveal whether this unexpected collaboration could withstand the challenges that lay ahead.

Despite the accidental spill and the return of Rachel's diva persona, Meave couldn't shake the lingering embarrassment. The air in Rachel's opulent home felt charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the history project.

As Meave continued to mop up the spilled tea, Rachel, with an air of innocence that contradicted her reputation, pretended not to notice Meave's discomfort. She casually strolled to the kitchen, leaving Meave momentarily flustered.

"So, Meave, what do you think about delving into the cultural impact of the Renaissance?" Rachel called from the kitchen, her tone light and seemingly innocent.

Meave, trying to regain her composure, responded, "Uh, sure, that sounds like a good angle to explore."

As Rachel returned, Meave couldn't help but notice the subtle sway in her hips and the way her tank top clung to her slightly dampened skin. Unbeknownst to Meave, Rachel was orchestrating a silent seduction, tapping into the art of allure that had made her the it girl of Braxton High.

Rachel leaned over the table, her eyes locking onto Meave's with a mischievous glint. "You know, Meave, it's surprising how working on a project can create such... intense moments."

Meave, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone, stammered, "Uh, yeah, I guess so."

Rachel's lips curled into a sly smile as she leaned even closer. "You seem a bit flustered, Meave. Is everything alright?"

Meave, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, nodded awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just focus on the project."

Rachel, seemingly unfazed, continued to toy with Meave's composure. "Oh, I fully intend to focus on the project, Meave. We wouldn't want any distractions, would we?"

As they delved deeper into the Renaissance, Rachel's subtle touches and lingering glances heightened the tension in the room. Meave found herself growing increasingly hot and bothered, her focus wavering between the history project and the enigmatic girl sitting across from her.

With each innocent comment and sultry gesture, Rachel maintained an air of detachment, leaving Meave to navigate the unfamiliar territory of desire and confusion. The it girl of Braxton High had managed to weave a subtle web of seduction without overtly crossing any lines.

As the night wore on, the temperature in Rachel's home seemed to rise, and Meave couldn't shake the feeling that she was caught in a delicate dance orchestrated by the irresistible queen bee. Little did she know, Rachel's enigmatic charm was just one facet of the complex game that would unfold in the corridors and classrooms of Braxton High.

As the night progressed, Rachel couldn't help but revel in the effect she had on Meave. The subtle shifts in her body language, the nervous glances, and the occasional stammering—all signs that Meave was more affected than she let on. The it girl of Braxton High had always enjoyed the art of influence, but tonight, she found a different thrill in knowing she held a unique power over Meave Rosewood.

As they continued to work on their history project, Rachel couldn't resist pushing the boundaries further. She leaned in closer, her lips inches from Meave's ear, as she whispered with feigned innocence, "You seem a little distracted, Meave. Is the Renaissance getting to you, or is it something else?"

Meave, acutely aware of Rachel's proximity, felt a shiver run down her spine. She stammered, "I... I'm just trying to focus, Rachel. Let's finish the project."

Rachel pulled back, her brown eyes dancing with mischief. "Of course, Meave. Focus is essential. But you know, sometimes a little distraction can be... enlightening."

Meave, attempting to divert her attention back to the project, found herself increasingly drawn into the magnetic pull of Rachel's teasing. The air between them became charged with an electric intensity that neither could deny.

As they discussed historical figures and events, Rachel's playful touches and suggestive comments continued to fuel the flames of desire. It became evident that Rachel wasn't just interested in completing the project; she was reveling in the game of seduction, relishing the power dynamics that unfolded between them.

"You have this incredible way of making history come alive, Rachel," Meave remarked, her voice betraying a mix of admiration and something more.

Rachel, with a coy smile, replied, "Well, I believe in adding a personal touch to everything I do. Keeps things interesting, don't you think?"

The tension in the room reached a palpable peak, and Rachel, sensing Meave's growing vulnerability, decided to take the teasing a step further. As she reached for a book on the shelf, her fingers brushed against Meave's hand, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them.

"Oh, sorry, Meave," Rachel said, her voice dripping with insincere innocence. "I didn't mean to intrude."

Meave, now fully aware of the game Rachel was playing, tried to maintain composure. "It's... it's fine, Rachel. Let's just finish this."

As the night wore on, Rachel's calculated maneuvers pushed Meave to the edge. The it girl, reveling in her ability to turn the tables, couldn't resist a final, daring move. With a smirk, she leaned in, her lips brushing against Meave's ear.

"I must say, Meave, you're quite the fascinating project," Rachel whispered, her breath sending shivers down Meave's spine. "I wonder how far this distraction will take us."

As Rachel pulled away, the room hung in a charged silence. Meave, flustered and intrigued, couldn't deny the magnetic pull that Rachel had skillfully woven around them. The it girl of Braxton High had succeeded in turning a simple history project into a complex web of desire and intrigue.

The charged atmosphere in Rachel's luxurious home reached a boiling point, and Meave, feeling the intensity of the moment, couldn't resist the magnetic pull any longer. In a bold move, she closed the distance between her and Rachel, capturing her lips in a kiss that held a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as Meave's heartbeat echoed in her ears. The unexpectedness of the kiss left Rachel momentarily stunned, but as Meave pulled back, a flicker of surprise and something deeper flashed in Rachel's brown eyes.

Meave, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions, stammered, "I... I don't know what came over me, Rachel. I'm sorry."

Before she could fully comprehend the implications of her actions, Meave attempted to retreat, but Rachel, ever the enigmatic manipulator, seized the opportunity. With a swift, almost predatory grace, Rachel pulled Meave back into the embrace, her lips claiming Meave's in a more assertive kiss.

The atmosphere crackled with a newfound intensity as Rachel, now in control, deepened the kiss. Meave, torn between desire and apprehension, couldn't deny the electrifying chemistry that existed between them. Rachel's soft, teasing demeanor had given way to a more dominating presence, and Meave found herself surrendering to the unexpected allure of the it girl.

Breaking the kiss, Rachel whispered against Meave's lips, "You're full of surprises, Meave Rosewood. But don't worry; I can be just as unpredictable."

A mix of emotions danced in Meave's blue eyes—confusion, desire, and a hint of fear. Rachel, however, remained composed, her expression revealing a complexity that transcended the usual mean girl facade. Behind the confident exterior, there was a softness reserved exclusively for Meave.

As Rachel continued to explore the boundaries of desire, Meave, lost in the intoxicating whirlwind of sensations, couldn't help but be captivated by the magnetic pull of Rachel's touch. The it girl, now revealing a more vulnerable side, guided the dance between them, each movement a testament to the unspoken connection that had ignited between them.

Meave's initial boldness had triggered a shift in the dynamics of their relationship, and as Rachel continued to dominate the girl with both finesse and a hint of genuine affection, Meave found herself teetering on the edge of an emotional precipice.

"I never knew you could be like this, Rachel," Meave whispered, her voice laced with a mix of awe and vulnerability.

Rachel, with a subtle smile, replied, "People are full of surprises, Meave. You just have to be willing to explore."

The night unfolded in a symphony of desire, a delicate dance between two souls navigating uncharted territory. The it girl of Braxton High had found herself entangled in a connection that transcended the superficial, and Meave, despite her initial reservations, couldn't deny the undeniable allure of Rachel Zegler.

As dawn approached, the tangled threads of desire and intimacy began to weave a complex tapestry that neither girl could easily unravel. The corridors of Braxton High, witness to their secret liaison, would become the silent keepers of a story that transcended the usual high school drama.

Little did Meave and Rachel realize that the complexities of their connection would redefine the very fabric of their lives, creating a bond that surpassed the expectations of their peers.

In the hushed aftermath of their intense make-out session, Meave found herself panting softly, her lips swollen and her senses ablaze. The room was cloaked in a charged silence, broken only by the rhythmic beats of their rapid breaths. Rachel, her usual mean girl facade now completely shattered, giggled softly, her brown eyes filled with an unexpected tenderness.

"Well, that was unexpected," Rachel remarked, her voice carrying a playful lilt.

Meave, still catching her breath, managed a shy smile. "Yeah, it definitely was."

The air between them crackled with a newfound vulnerability as Rachel, usually the picture of confidence, hesitated for a moment. A soft, almost wistful expression crossed her features before she spoke, her tone uncharacteristically sincere.

"You know, Meave, I've had this crush on you for years. It's just something I never thought I'd actually act on."

Meave's eyes widened in surprise, the weight of Rachel's confession settling between them. The it girl of Braxton High, now stripped of her mean girl armor, revealed a side that Meave had never expected. The unexpected sincerity in Rachel's voice left Meave grappling with a mix of emotions.

"You... you have a crush on me?" Meave repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rachel, seemingly unfazed by the admission, nodded. "Yeah, I guess I do. It's weird, right? But I can't deny the attraction, the way you've always intrigued me."

Meave, still processing the revelation, felt a strange mix of flattery and confusion. The lines between their roles at Braxton High had blurred beyond recognition, leaving them standing on unfamiliar ground.

"I had no idea," Meave admitted, her voice a fragile whisper.

Rachel, with a soft smile, reached out to gently tuck a strand of Meave's red hair behind her ear. "Well, secrets have a way of staying hidden, especially in high school. But tonight, everything's out in the open."

The room seemed to shrink, leaving them suspended in a moment of uncharted intimacy. Rachel, typically the puppeteer of social dynamics, now found herself in uncharted territory, her heart exposed in a way that went against her carefully curated image.

"I never expected tonight to turn out like this," Meave confessed, her blue eyes searching Rachel's for understanding.

Rachel chuckled softly, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "Life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it? Sometimes, we end up exactly where we never thought we'd be."

As the night wore on, the two girls navigated the uncharted waters of their newfound connection. Rachel's mean girl attitude had given way to a softer, more genuine demeanor, and Meave found herself drawn to the complexity that lay beneath the surface.

Their conversations ebbed and flowed, touching on everything from high school drama to shared dreams and fears. The layers of Braxton High's social hierarchy seemed to dissipate, leaving only the vulnerability of two girls who, against all odds, had found a connection that defied expectations.

Little did Meave and Rachel know that their unexpected journey would continue to unfold, revealing twists and turns that would redefine the contours of their lives. The corridors of Braxton High, once witness to their secret liaison, now held the echoes of a story that transcended the boundaries of friendship, desire, and the unspoken connections that bound them together.

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A/N: simply based on Mean Girls :)

[nyovette]

The Spirit Bares its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White

Synopsis: Mors vincit omnia. Death conquers all.

London, 1883. The Veil between the living and dead has thinned. Violet-eyed mediums commune with spirits under the watchful eye of the Royal Speaker Society, and sixteen-year-old Silas Bell would rather rip out his violet eyes than become an obedient Speaker wife. According to Mother, he’ll be married by the end of the year. It doesn’t matter that he’s needed a decade of tutors to hide his autism; that he practices surgery on slaughtered pigs; that he is a boy, not the girl the world insists on seeing.

After a failed attempt to escape an arranged marriage, Silas is diagnosed with Veil sickness—a mysterious disease sending violet-eyed women into madness—and shipped away to Braxton’s Sanitorium and Finishing School. The facility is cold, the instructors merciless, and the students either bloom into eligible wives or disappear. So when the ghosts of missing students start begging Silas for help, he decides to reach into Braxton’s innards and expose its rotten guts to the world—as long as the school doesn’t break him first.

Rating: ★★★★★

Spoilers ⚠️

Oh my god. This fucking book is incredible.

I've been looking forward to reading TSBT, not just because of the high reviews and intriguing synopsis, but also because of the autism representation. As an autistic person myself, I was looking forward to seeing a respectful portrayal of an autistic MC - and I found that in Silas.

Silas is such a great MC, it was crazy how much of myself I saw in him. His sensory issues. His struggles with social cues and subtext. His history of being forced to suppress his symptoms and having to put on the mask of a "good girl". Being unable to stand up for himself, having to simply do as he's told. Having to say "yes" to protect himself from those who have control over his life.

He's also trans, living in a world where being so is considered a sickness of the mind. When he met Daphne, I swear, I was over the fucking moon. I can't imagine how validating that must've felt, to finally meet someone like him. White did such an amazing job writing this scene.

The book is very gory at times. I definitely learned a lot about the inner workings of the human body, how to perform a hysterectomy, how there are two ways to strangle someone. Silas performed a lot of surgery without any anaesthetic which made me inwardly cringe as I was reading. It was excellent.

White also kept the tension incredibly well. Throughout, there was the threat of Silas being discovered as he tried to find out what happened to the ghost girls. Everytime something went wrong for Silas, it didn't just feel like a "uh oh" moment, it was a "oh fuck. RUN." I loved it.

I could literally talk about this book forever, I've got so much to say about how good this and that was but I struggle with turning my thoughts into anything comprehensible so I'll have to keep it short. Just know that I loved this book and will now be looking to read White's other works. 10/10.

[wildaboutmnhockey]

Shuffle your ‘On Repeat’/Favorites playlist and list the first 10 songs that play, then tag 10 people

Pretend I did these last week 😅 I got tagged twice so to spare everyone's dash they're below the cut

@alltheprettyplaces

LIT - Oneus

Get It - Pristin V

Tití Me Preguntó - Bad Bunny

Unholy - Sam Smith

Pepas - Farruko

Ordinary Girl - Hannah Montana (sister's fault from a road trip)

Daydreams - Day Three

Burn It to the Ground - Nickleback

Thrift Shop - Macklemore

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE - Måneskin

@mimirox6

Bumpy Ride - Mohombi

Ni**as in Paris - Jay Z (blame Wild warmups)

Getcha Head in the Game - High School Musical

Lose Control - Teddy Swims (my #1 song on Spotify all time and it only took 6 months)

Attraction - BUMKEY

He Wasn't Man Enough - Toni Braxton

Like You Mean It - Steven Rodriguez

deathwish - Stand Atlantic

Te Siento En Para - Bulin 47

Villain - KEY