#sarah plain and tall

[avonlea71]

Sarah Witting (Glenn Close) - Skylark (1993)

[dothestarsshine-art]

“Is it so strange to see a woman behind a plow?” 🌾🌊

[carriagelamp]

This June I decided to explore some of the different queer picture books that my local library has available to lend! I read so many of them I decided they deserve to take up two slots; I'll provide the actual list of them below the cut for anyone who's interested. Oh and my Very Big Please For Real Go Read This Rec is The Empress of Salt and Fortune which is the first book of a novella series that is seriously consuming me body and soul.

assorted queer picture books

I wanted to see what sort of queer/Pride related pictures books my local library had so I checked a bunch out. I was really pleased by both the number and variety! I didn't come across any I actively disliked, though I would say they broadly fit into one of three categories:

Books that happened to show queer families that dealt with other topics: < Mama and Mommy and Me in the Middle, We’re Happy You’re Here, My Mommies Built a Tree House > These were my favourites. They explored diverse families but came at it from a very normalising angle that made enjoyable read alouds. The message was clear but not attempting to pontificate to a child who likely doesn't have political context for it to make sense.

Books that touched a little more directly on queer identities: < Phoenix Gets Greater, Uncle Bobby’s Wedding, Who You Will Be > All enjoyable! The former is based on the true story of a two-spirit child, which I really enjoyed, it had lovely art and a good look at how indigenous identities and queer identities can overlap. The second is about a girl coming to terms with her favourite uncle getting married and really could fit into the first category as well since it's more about her coming to terms with sharing her uncle rather than the same-sex marriage itself -- very cute either way. The last one explores gender expression with a baby through the types of clothes and toys the child engages with.

Books specifically about Pride: < Twas the Night Before Pride, It’s Pride Baby, Grandad’s Pride, This Day in June, Pride Puppy > These were… fine (with the exception of Pride Puppy which is adorable and made me laugh and is one of my favourites that I read from all these). They do give some more details about what a Pride Event might actually look like, and some attempt to give some historical context but they tend to be a little... clunky. These are the sort of book that strike me as very “feel good-y” for an adult, or which work well specifically as a teaching aid for slightly older students that have some pre-existing context, but are less appealing as just a plain read aloud for the target demographic. I’m happy they exist, if you want to specifically teach about Pride then they're nice options! And they are all bright, pretty, and diverse! But I was not very interested in these as I was in some of the above books.

(*Canadian books)

Apothecary Diaries v1

I’m so glad I read this! I’d read the manga and thought it seemed okay but was intrigued enough to give the novel a try when it was released and wow! There’s just so much more depth and personality to the actual novel!

The story follows Maomao, who was kidnapped and sold as a servant to the imperial “Rear Palace��� where the consorts live. Despite being raised as a profoundly capable and very scientifically-minded apothecary, Maomao is determined to keep her head down and do what she has to do until her period of indentured servitude is over. However when certain consorts and their children begin to sicken and die, Maomao, who has a mad scientist level fascination for poisons, finds herself compelled to give warning. This ends up thrusting her into the public eye and getting her involved in a variety of bizarre mysteries that plague the Rear Palace. 

All in all it was a fun, quirky historical mystery series. Maomao is blunt, single-minded, and bordering on caustic which makes her a complete delight to read, especially when she’s forced to work with the incredibly charming and manipulative eunuch official who’s taken an interest in her.

Bambi

I’ve never actually read Bambi before and spring felt like the right time to finally give it a try. Man, I thought the way they murdered Bambi’s mom in the Disney movie was pretty brutal but it doesn’t hold a candle to the book. The descriptions of the deaths and violence and terror in the novel are staggering and seriously just fucked. Very well written, and portrays nature in all its beauty and horror. You should read it and just appreciate how different it is from the Disney film...

The Empress of Salt and Fortune

My number one rec from this month! The Singing Hills Cycle is an absolutely AMAZING series. I was iffy about it at first, since the first book really thrusts you into the world without much guidance and it sets up a bit of an usual framing device, but once I got my feet under me I ended up falling in love with it. The series follows the cleric Chih who is from the Singing Hills monastery, which believes in taking meticulous record of historical events and stories. When the palace of the exiled Empress becomes magically unsealed for the first time since she ascended the throne, Chih hurries there to take any record she can before the place is looted. There she finds an old woman known as Bunny who remembers when the Empress had lived there and begins to tell the story of the years that passed in that place of exile. The story goes back and forth between the current day with Chih, her companion Almost Brilliant, and Rabbit, and the stories that explain the political intrigue of the past.

When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain

The second book in the Singing Hills Cycle and the one that really nailed home the fact that I was going to be addicted to this series. Once again the story tells of the cleric Chih who is travelling to collect stories and memories for the monastery. While visiting the mammoth corps of the north, she and a young mammoth rider find themselves trapped in the mountains by a pack of tigresses. Trying to find a way to buy them time until they might be rescued, Chih begins to discuss a famous tale about a scholar and a tigress who fell in love -- which the tigresses think is being told completely wrong. This book goes between the current predicament, Chih’s version of the story, and the tigresses’ version of the story, the two of which often conflict wildly in their perspectives. These books are seriously so clever and enticing, some of the best framing devices I’ve seen used in years.

Mr and Mrs Bunny — Detectives Extraordinaire!

Grabbed this one on a whim thinking it looks rather charming but ended up being disappointed in it. It has a fun concept, but the author is trying so hard to be quirky that it just breaks any possible flow and immersion the story might have. The story isn’t engaging enough for an adult, and a lot of the attempted humour feels like it wouldn’t land well with children, so it ends up being a bit of a clunky muddle. I didn’t bother finishing it.

Pale Colors in a Tall Field: Poems

I have tragically little to say about this… oops. I don’t usually read poetry, and I made the mistake of doing this as an audiobook just because it jumped out at me while I was browsing Libby. It ended up being quite pretty and I enjoyed listened to it quite a lot, but I wasn’t able to sit and digest it enough to get much more than that out of it;;; I would recommend it if you want some nice queer poetry that will make you think.

Queer Little Nightmares

A fun little “horror” anthology. Like most anthologies there were highs and lows, but there was really only one story that I skipped entirely because I disliked it. They range from serious and rather tragic tales, to warm romantic ones, to viscerally disgusting, to just plain hilarious. Not the best anthology I’ve ever read, but definitely worth a read if you want some fun monster stories and romances.

Sarah, Plain and Tall

Another childhood classic I had never read before so I decided to change that. And it was fine. I’m glad I’ve finally read it. I’m sure I would have enjoyed it if I had read it around grade one or two, and it was well written, but by god not a lot is happening here. A very domestic little story about a woman who moves to the prairies to become a wife and mother, and how she connects with the children.

My Man Jeeves // Carry On, Jeeves

Fortunately I received the recommendation to read The Inimitable Jeeves first, which saved me! My Man Jeeves was… fine, but it is very clearly a collection of “proto” stories, some of them not even featuring Jeeves and Wooster. While I didn’t dislike any of them, this collection of Jeeves stories didn’t grab me in the same way some of the others have. Carry On, Jeeves also baffled me a bit because there was quite a bit of crossover between the two! It feels like a very strange way to collect these story into anthologies... Still, I ultimately enjoyed both, and I skipped over the stories I had already heard in the previous collection and carried on from there.

For anyone not familiar with the Jeeves stories, they tell about the misadventures of Bertie Wooster, and young man of independent wealth who spends most of his time loafing around London and mucking about with his various friends and acquaintances. He is a complete idiot, but cheerfully acknowledges this about himself and is honestly impossible not to like, he’s just too friendly and too determined to help his friends! Fortunately he has his man Jeeves to do the thinking and to solve the various problems he comes across, in the most elaborate and impeccably mannered ways possible.

[beyondthedustjacket]

BOOK BY BOOK WRAP UPS ⁕ BOOKS I’VE READ IN 2025

Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan

[nicollekidman]

getting older is like help. i am crying at the mere thought of wide open spaces and breeze blowing through wheat

[a-story-teller]

New-to-me movies seen in 2024:

The World to Come (2020)

“You are my city of joy.”

[firebirdsdaughter]

Okay…

… I'm going to bed now bc what the fuck did I just read. Someone pls tell me this is a sleep deprivation dream or a deliberate parody.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

the fire in his eyes - r.c.

↳PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

↳SUMMARY:jj maybank had done a lot of stupid shit in his life but threatening to kill you was at the top of the list.

↳ WARNINGS: mature themes, mentions of anxiety, gunshots, gun use, major character death (implied - doesn't happen), gun violence, violence, protective!rafe, etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blogs @illicitfixations, @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.

At the Boneyard, Kooks didn't have rich parents watching over their every move, and pogues got to party without the police shutting them down. They didn't have parents to bribe the law enforcement like the rich kids did, after all. It was a win-win situation. You and Sarah kept it a tight-lipped secret, but parties at the Boneyard had always been their favorites. As you climbed out of Sarah's black Volvo, you two shared a conspiratorial look, matching grins on your faces. Rafe put his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him and leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You heard a whistle from the crowd, and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You could feel the eyes of other partygoers on them as you all walked in, clinging to your every move. Topper grabbed a cooler of beers he’d brought with you guys, and cheers echoed from your onlookers.

"Rafe, mind if I borrow your girl?" Sarah's voice was syrupy-sweet, and Rafe shot her a glare, but relinquished his hold on you. 

Without giving you a moment's notice, Sarah grabbed your hand eagerly, snatching you away.

When you next glanced at your boyfriend, he'd busied himself with Topper and the beers. Predictable.

"Look at this, Y/N.” Sarah said, out of breath as you two stopped running. 

Above you towered a red buoy, the kind designed to ward off the big trawlers and cargo ships when they came a little too close to shore.

“You can see it all from up here.”

You heard footsteps, and glanced over her shoulder, seeing Topper advancing towards you two.

"Your bitch is here.” You teased, and Sarah glanced over her shoulder.

"Shut up."

"Sarah! Be careful!" Topper hurried over, worry plain in his voice, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'Il leave you to it.” You called out, and Sarah smiled down at you, waving her goodbye.

You crossed your arms around yourself, looking at the scene around you. There were people

everywhere, Pogues and Kooks in distinct groups,

miniature versions of the Cut and Figure Eight.

"Looking hot as always, princess.” A voice whistles from the side. 

You turn your head, seeing JJ trailing his eyes up and down your figure. You roll your eyes, flipping him off with a fake sweet smile, then walking away.

You made your way to your friends - Rafe’s arms calling your name. You belonged in them like the wind in a hurricane, one just simply couldn’t be without the other. 

The journey across the beach and into the arms of the boy you loved was long and grueling, your feet felt like lead as they drug against the cool of the sand. The promise of Rafe’s touch was enough to make you keep going as your eyes raked over his form at a distance. 

He was laughing with his friends, a yellow shirt gripping his biceps and pink board shorts wrapped around his thighs. His feet were exposed against the sand and a baseball cap sat backwards in his head. You came up from behind him, wrapping your small arms around his middle, trailing your fingers up around his pectoral muscles. 

“Can I buy you a drink, handsome?” You whispered into his shoulder, not tall enough to reach his ear. You felt his muscles relax against your touch. 

“I’m pretty sure the booze is free, we’re at a kegger. Plus, I don’t think my girl would like that very much.” He replied with a smile, turning around to bring you into his chest. “Hey, pretty girl. Missed you.”

Suddenly, Rafe's grip on your waist tightens a bit and a scoff slips from his mouth. It's not long before you notice what forced the change in his

demeanor. Two Pogues, JJ and you couldn't quite remember the other boy’s name, but you recognized him as a friend of Kiara’s. 

"Just walk, don't look at them.” You hear the unknown boy whisper to JJ and it almost brings a smile to your face.

"How do you walk past Kooks and not look at them in all their fucking glory?” The sarcasm seeped from JJ’s lips, purposely making his voice loud enough for you all to hear.

"Hey, princess. When you get bored of this polo wearing asshole..." his words directed toward you as his holds his hand up to his ear with the phone gesture, "call me," he mouths. 

His friend immediately pulled JJ further in the opposite direction before Rafe could so much as

even think to put his hands on him.

"Don't.” You place your hand on Rafe's chest, as he noticeably gets angry. He just glances down at you in confusion. "His time will come.” You reassure your boyfriend, your smile almost as menacing as the one now on Rafe's face. 

He simply nodded along to your words, letting his grip on your waist finally lighten up a bit.

You and Sarah were growing bored as your boys were talking about perfecting their swings for what felt like hours upon hours and you two were looking for any excuse to retreat back to the keg. 

“Sarah and I are going to get another drink. You guys want anything?" You ask, backing away toward the keg already. 

“Nah, I’m good.” Kelce replies, Topper and Rafe agreeing all too intrigued with their conversation about that God forsaken sport. 

You just shake your head and the two of you start walking towards the keg. Your walk was pretty peaceful, but of course that couldn't last for long. You watched as JJ walked in your direction.

"Y/N L/N." Your full name rolled off his tongue,

albeit a little slurred.

"Hi?" Your voice was questioning, and you could only hope you got across your utter confusion as to what he was doing standing in front of you. 

He raised his eyebrows at you, and held out his cup to you silently. Your eyes darted downwards and back up to him again, looking at the murky liquid dubiously. As far as you were concerned, he could've been poisoning you.

"No, thanks."

"Don't you trust me?"

You let the words hang. You knew he knew the answer to that question. JJ waved the cup in front of your face once again, jolting you back to the present.

"Lighten up, princess.” 

You chuckled lowly, though the laugh had no real humour behind it. “Fuck off, Pogue.” 

You met his eyes again, and the corner of his lip quirked up ever so slightly. He looked almost a little stunned. 

"Where'd you learn to swear, princess? The country club?"

"Where'd you learn to swear? Jail?" You bit back, and JJ grinned.

"Juvie, dumbass.” He replied, eyebrows raised. "C'mon. One sip."

“I believe the lady said no, Maybank.” You heard your boyfriend’s merciless voice cut off the intense tension that you and JJ were now sharing. 

"Rafe! Buddy! How are you?"

The taste of beer in the back of your throat turned rancid. This was not going to end well. The muscles in Rafe’s jaw were tensed, sharp lines against the contours of his skin.

"What, is it not fancy enough for you?" JJ kept being persistent. 

"No. We were just leaving."

"Hey, you know what? I'll take it." Topper interrupts JJ, and you start to fear what might happen. 

"Thank you, man. I appreciate it."

"That's nice, but I didn't ask you. If you said pretty please, maybe, but you didn't."

"Oh, pretty please."

"Yeah. Sarah? How about you?” JJ tried to give her the cup.

"Pretty please?"

"You can have it." JJ insists on giving Sarah the cup.

"She doesn't want it, you-" Topper just spills the drink into JJ's face. 

JJ hits Topper, while John B and Sarah attempt to separate them.

"Dirty Pogues!" Topper screams and John B loses it and hits him.

"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?" 

People around you scream "Fight! Fight! Fight!" like this is some kind of joke.

The guys continue, and it seems like there are only three sane people in the middle of this, trying to stop it: you, Sarah and Kiara.

Things are getting pretty violent. Topper is holding John B's head, and he's slowly drowning him. Everyone around us is either inciting it or screaming, trying to end it. That's too much for you to watch, so you hide inside Rafe's arms and he pulls you closer.

Out of nowhere, someone screams, "He's got a gun" and you turn to see JJ with a gun pointed at Top's head.

"JJ, stop! Put the gun down!" Sarah screams desperately.

"Did you say something, princess?" He holds his position.

"JJ, what the fuck? Do you know what you are doing? Calm down, please."

"Oh, does princess number two want to join the ‘save the asshole’ party?" 

Your breath hitched in your throat as the cool metal met your temple – you had never been a fan of guns – but you wished that you knew how to use one or atleast how to defend yourself against someone with one as JJ Maybank bore the side of the pistol in his hand into your skull like his life depended on it. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you noted the panic that ran through them, though you knew no one else would and you thanked God for that, because if they had you were sure you would die on this beach, leaving Rafe to cradle what was left of your lifeless body. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion and you could barely hear Rafe’s words or the words of the pogues as they stood by, begging JJ to put the gun down. 

"You better get the gun away from her or I swear to God, your friends will be burying you tonight.” Rafe breathes, almost too calmly. “You know who has more power between us. I can make your life a living hell more than it is now.” 

Everyone knows that's true, even JJ himself. Yet, he didn’t seem to care about that at the moment, all he cared about was getting even with Rafe Cameron, the kook king himself and that’s what he thought he was doing when he pulled the trigger sending a harsh air into the side of your temple. You dropped to the sand and Rafe’s heart stopped for a split second as he raced over to your form. He gripped your cheeks, looking over your face, begging you to say anything as he searched for any source of blood, any place that a bullet would have entered your body. 

“Baby – Baby – talk to me, please!” 

You were dazed, your mind reeling. You wondered if you had been shot, if this was it for you, if you were dying – is this what dying felt like? You couldn’t make your mouth form words and your ears rang. Rafe shook you once again, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Sweet girl, what hurts? Are you hurt?!” 

You could only shake your head no as he looked over you and once he received confirmation that you were okay, he ordered Kelce to watch over you as he made his way over to where JJ stood. JJ looked in Rafe’s direction, knowing he had fucked up, knowing he was about to take the beating of his life. Rafe stalked towards him, anger pulsating through every vein in his body in a way that it never had. Pogues had always pissed him off or been a nuisance to him, but this – this was life or death – this was you and he couldn’t stand by and let these fuckers think they could get away with that. JJ shrunk into himself, thinking about making a break for it and Topper must’ve noticed, because he got to him before Rafe did, jerking him up by the collar of his shirt and snickering. 

“Listen, bud, accept your fate now – Rafe’s gonna kill you.” 

He chuckled and JJ’s fear made itself known as he tried to squirm out of Topper’s grasp. And just as he did, ready to make a break for it and leave his friends to fend for themselves, Rafe stepped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“And, uh – just where do you think you’re going?” 

He growled. 

“Listen man –” 

JJ was cut off by Rafe’s forehead connecting with his nose, knocking him back abruptly. 

“No, see –, listening after you pull a gun on my girl? That doesn’t work for me.” 

His voice was sinister, yet cool and calm and ready – ready to kill his first pogue. Rafe shoved JJ back even further, his head connecting with the sand. Rafe’s only thought in that moment elicited a snicker from him as he thought about his tiny pogue brain shaking around in his head at the impact. He thought about it again as he ripped the gun from JJ’s grasp and knocked it against his nose, the crunch of his bones could be heard across the beach and Rafe let out a laugh. 

“If you think that hurts, you’re not gonna survive what comes next.” 

Topper snickered, bringing a beer to Rafe’s attention, handing it to him. Rafe’s demented and angry state gave him an idea and before he could even think he spit into the long-neck beer bottle, swishing the remaining liquid around and passing it back to Topper who spit in it as well and handed it back to Rafe. 

“Maybank, you uh–, you thirsty? I got something for you.” 

Rafe laughed menacingly, turning back to the crowd that had gathered around them on the beach before kneeling over JJ while Topper held down his shoulders against the sand and Rafe poured the tainted liquid down his throat. JJ kicked and attempted to scream, but his yells were muffled against the cool liquid as he fought against it. 

“Don’t fight it, princess.” 

Topper snickered, his grip on JJ’s shoulder’s tightening to prevent him from squirming away from Rafe. 

“Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” 

John B yelled, emerging from the crowd. 

“Trust me, JB, I’m not even close to killing him yet and when I am it’ll be justified. He almost took my world away from me, killing him wouldn’t be enough.” 

Rafe spoke through gritted teeth and threw the beer bottle to the side, stradling JJ and beginning to hit him over and over. 

-

You sat on the sand, Kelce’s strong arm wrapped around your waist as you tucked your knees further into your chest and laid your head on top of them. Rafe came barreling toward you, stopping as he took in the tears that were running down your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you chanted to yourself “Rafe’s coming soon” over and over in a hushed whisper. His heart broke and the sight and he was filled with regret for leaving you with Kelce of all people while you were in this state. He knelt in front of your face, tucking the hair behind your ears and it was like almost immediately, you knew the touch was his. Your eyes flew open, and at the sight of him you cried even harder – a mix of fear and anger washed over you; anger at JJ, fear of Rafe being shot the way you almost had been. You jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over, but he steadied as he wrapped his arms around you and situated you on his lap. You buried your head in his chest and he wrapped one arm under your knees and the other around the back of your hair, pooling it in his hands. You tucked your face as deep into his chest as you could and he placed a kiss on your temple. 

“Hey, sweet girl. Talk to me, baby.” 

“Scared – wanna g-go home.” 

“Okay, mama. We’re going.” 

He whispered against your hairline, pushing himself off the ground by his legs and shifting you in his broad arms before carrying you bridal-style to his truck. 

[aliciasays]

Safe - Joel Miller x OFC - Chapter 2

Word Count: 2.3K

Status: Ongoing

Lots of Joel in this one!

Chapter 2: Joel Miller

Jensen Green had thrown his daughter a “Welcome Home” party, and not only that, he had invited the whole cul de sac into his home to celebrate his daughter finally –coming back to her senses– as he kept joking,  and moving back to Texas.

Penelope wanted to be swallowed up by the Earth. She didn’t know these people– didn’t remember most of them after being away for 8 years. She only knew one couple – the Smith’s– but that was only because they had babysat her for most of her school years. The rest of the people that lounged around the backyard, glancing at her curiously and dipping their heads amongst themselves to mumble the conspiratorial comment, she didn't know.

Just smile and brace through it, she kept telling herself, you ain't gotta interact with these people outside of this damn party anyways.

“Hey Penny,” she heard her dad call out to her from his position by the grill on the back deck, “come over!”

Penelope tore her eyes from the people that roamed her backyard, and over to her dad on the back deck. He was grilling steaks at the moment, but she already knew that. She had been keeping her distance from him, sitting out by the pool with a beer in hand and acting like people-watching was the most interesting thing– because that man was standing next to him.

That tall, dark, broad shouldered man with the deep brown eyes and the defined romanesque nose that she just wanted to sit o–

Jesus woman, you’re depraved, Penelope chastised herself, and yet she let her eyes rake over him as she walked up the steps to the deck, beer forgotten by the pool chair she previously occupied.

He was dressed in worn faded jeans held up by a brown leather belt with a large silver belt buckle, brown dusty boots, and a simple white t-shirt. It was plain enough, yet Penelope’s gaze lingered on the belt buckle for a moment too long, and briefly, she pictured herself reaching for that belt buckle, excited for what might lay concealed behind the worn blue denim.

A soft, breathy sigh left Penelope’s lips as she came to stand by her father, her cheeks flushed. Suddenly, she was glad for the mid-May Texan heat, she could blame it on the sun and not her filthy thoughts on why her face was slowly turning red.

“Joel, this my girl Penelope, the one I been telling ya about,” Penelope’s father gushed.

Penelope could swear her face got even redder as suddenly the man– Joel, turned away from her father to now fully look at her. The way he looked her up and down, the way his eyes lingered a little too long on her thighs– the fact that she had noticed his eyes lingering on her thighs– it was suffocating. It was overwhelming.

“Hi,” she offered shyly, bringing his attention up to her face.

“Hey,” he replied back, voice rough, a small smirk on his lips “‘name’s Joel Miller.”

Joel Miller, Penelope thought, even his name is just– ugh.

“Nice to meet you, Joel,” she caught herself saying, a small smile playing coyly on her lips.

“Likewise.”

He was a man of little words, Penelope noticed. She hung back mostly, letting her dad lead the conversation. She found out Joel had started his own business not too long ago, Miller Contracting, he'd moved into the neighborhood about 3 years ago, and that he lived directly across from them with his younger brother Tommy, and his daughter Sarah– no mention of a significant other, or of Sarah’s mom, Penelope noted.

Must not be in the picture, she thought, and for a second that made a small thrill run through her body at the prospect of Joel not having anyone warming his bed at night, but then the compassionate side of her, the rational side, chided herself and thought about Sarah not having a mother.

Penelope didn't know the circumstances of why Sarah’s mother wasn’t in the picture, but she could take a guess on how Sarah must have felt at some point. Her own mother  had left when she was in middle school– divorced her father and moved out of town and started a whole new family with someone else, never to be heard from again. It sucked, but that was life, and shit happens, her father always said. Still, she couldn’t help herself as she glanced back towards the pool with a sad look on her face to where Sarah was.

The small girl was waist deep in the water, throwing a football at a man who was a few yards away from her, also in the water. He looked like Joel, but leaner, smaller, less imposing, and with longer hair. His younger brother, Tommy, she figured.

“What’s wrong?”

Penelope became suddenly aware of the added body heat coming from her right side, and she turned slightly to look up at none other than Joel, who now stood so close to her that their shoulders almost touched. She flinched, surprised at him suddenly next to her, and then she took a deep breath to get her thoughts straight– but that was a big mistake.

The undeniable smell of Joel filled her senses. She didn’t know what kind of cologne or shampoo or whatever it was that he had used to smell… like that. But it was intoxicating, and she wanted more.

He smelled like the forest after a hard rain; woody, musky, pine needles and damp earth, all mixed into one. There was a hint of something sweet as well, something soft and barely there– coffee, she realized. Faintly. On his breath.

When had he gotten so close to her?

Where the fuck was her dad?

And why was it so goddamn hot all of a sudden?

She noticed the grill had been turned off at some point, and her dad was now wandering over to the two long picnic tables that he’d set up a few paces away from the pool. He carried a tin-foil container filled to the brim with steaks and hotdogs and god only knew what else in his arms, setting it down at one of the tables besides the other side dishes, and announcing that everyone could start making themselves a plate of food if they wanted.

“Your side hurtin’?” Joel’s soft, rough voice broke the silence.

For a second, Penelope was utterly confused on what Joel was asking her. Her side wasn’t hurting, but then she thought about the face she must have been making when she was looking over at Sarah and thinking about her mom and her dad’s divorce–

Fuck. Well, at least she could use her injury as the perfect cover for the face she had been making.

“Not really,” she said simply, offering him a small, nervous smile. “It happened like two months ago, it’s healed for the most part. Just gotta ice it every now and then, and I can’t really do much heavy lifting because I got some internal bruising and scar tissue... and the doctor said I still gotta be on medical leave for the next few weeks– and… um, yeah.”

She was rambling. She was nervous. Joel Miller was making her nervous, and judging by the small, barely there smile on his lips, she knew that he knew he was making her nervous.

“How’d that happen,” he prodded, an innocent look on his face as he looked away from her and over to the pool, where Sarah and Tommy were now getting out of. “If you don’t mind me askin’.”

Penelope gnawed nervously on her lip, also turning to look over to the pool. Sarah and Tommy were now toweling off, and surely they would make a beeline towards the food once they were sufficiently dry. She sighed. A part of her wished she was over by the pool, away from this man who was making her brain turn to mush. The other part of her though, felt like she could spill her deepest and darkest secrets to him –or jump off of a cliff– if he simply asked her to.

She was a lost cause.

“Um…” she started nervously, trying to gather her thoughts. She hadn’t even told her dad yet, but here she was, about to tell this stranger what had happened two months ago– the uncensored version, at that.

“I–”

“Forget I asked,” Joel quickly interrupted her, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, shuffling his feet as he turned to the side to quickly glance down at her, “ain’t my business.” 

She frowned at that, now finding the courage to fully turn to face him, arms crossed over her chest. He was so tall, she noted. Taller than her dad even. If she hugged him she guessed that her head would rest nicely on his chest, but she quickly shoved that thought aside and just tilted her head up to look him in the eyes.

“I don’t mind telling you what happened,” she told him simply, “I just haven’t really processed what happened, if I’m being honest.”

Joel remained silent, but he did raise an eyebrow in question, tilting his head slightly to the side as if to say go on.

“They said it was an accident,” Penelope started, now deep in thought, “but I don’t think it really was….”

The look on Joel’s face was almost comical; eyebrows quirked up in surprise, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar– 

“You what now–” he stuttered, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at her with those wide brown eyes that were burning holes onto her skin.

“I’m– I was– a police officer,” Penelope started to explain, making sure to keep her voice low enough so that only Joel could hear, “I volunteered to lead the firearms course at the academy for this year’s new recruits, but something went wrong–”

“You got that right,” Joel huffed, glaring down at her with an unreadable expression.

Penelope refrained from rolling her eyes. She was about to tell him what happened and he was over here interrupting her. She hated being interrupted.

“Anyways,” she bit back slightly, a soft glare marking her green eyes as she looked up at him. “We were doing a training exercise– how to take down a suspect with a gun– that sort of stuff… and… They didn’t check the pistol– it had live rounds in it.”

Joel was left slightly speechless. First of all, he couldn’t imagine the woman standing in front of him wrestling anything out of anyone’s hands– she was just so small, so meek looking, with her large doe eyes and rosy cheeks. But,  Joel knew for a fact that little Penny Green was capable of taking down a man twice her size.

If the pictures and videos that Jensen had shown him of his daughter at the police academy were anything to go by, Joel knew that Penelope wasn’t so helpless. However…

There was something new in her eyes, something that wasn’t in all the videos and picture’s he’d been shown of her. There was something hesitant… something fearful. She was broken, he guessed, and he couldn’t blame her.

“Why d’you think it wasn’t an accident,” he found himself saying after a beat, eyes softening as he looked down at her.

“I got paid out,” she surprised him, “within a week of trying to sue for negligence, they offered me a settlement– I’m waiting for the check to clear… it’s… big– the lawyer said with how fast they settled that they must have known something was wrong.”

Joel hummed softly at that, brows furrowed as he tore his eyes away from her and let his gaze wander over to the picnic tables. Sarah and Tommy were eating, Jensen was sitting beside the Smith’s with a plate of food, and the rest of their neighbors were either sitting at the picnic tables, or cooling off in the pool.

And he was here, with Penelope, standing on the edge of her back deck and talking about her attempted murder.

This was totally not in his 1999 bingo card.

“You gonna pursue it?” was all he could ask, because what else could someone ask in this sort of situation?

“No,” Penelope said softly, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “It’s not the first time this sort of thing has happened in the department. Usually something always goes wrong when someone’s due for a promotion.”

“A promotion?” This piqued his interest. 

“Yeah,” Penelope sighed, an almost sad look crossing her features. “I was in line to move over to the detective’s bureau… but after this, I don’t think being in the field is quite right for me anymore. Not right now at least.”

“What are you gonna do out here then?” Joel couldn’t help but to ask, still slightly reeling from the fact that with what Penelope had told him, someone could have very well been trying to kill her out in California.

“Admin for the Austin Homicide Bureau,” Penelope said absent mindedly, adding, “I applied on a whim, I wasn’t really thinking, I was just bored at home and on bed rest after the accident, and I said fuck it and applied. I think my subconscious was just telling me it was time to come home.”

Joel nodded his head in agreement– it was time to come home, he thought.

“Good,” he said without thinking, his voice dropping to a low timber as he said, “gotta keep you safe.”

Penelope stopped short at that.

“Gotta keep you safe.”

She must have heard him wrong. He must have said: gotta keep yourself safe. She couldn’t think. She was suddenly very aware of how close he was standing, of his cologne, of the faint smell of coffee that spilled past his plump lips. Penelope felt like she was drowning in him.

She didn’t know what to reply to that, but thankfully she didn't have to, as Joel put a warm calloused hand on the small of her back, and was suddenly leading her down the steps and towards the picnic tables.

“C’mon, you look hungry.”

You have no idea, Joel Miller. No fucking idea.

[avonlea71]

Sarah Wheaten (Glenn Close). Sarah Plain & Tall (1991).

[francesderwent]

Sarah, Plain and Tall should also have been on my list

[acourtofthought]

Sarah using cobalt:

But if he knew … I turned again to the boy-creature. “There was a choice—in Death,” I said. Those eyes guttered with cobalt fire.

“Half,” Amren said, surveying my turquoise, cobalt, and white clothes.

Elain rasped, “Nice to meet you,” before hustling after her, the silk skirts of her cobalt dress whispering over the parquet floor.

I had never seen water so vibrant. Green and cobalt and midnight.

His red hair was unbound, a silken drape over his well-tailored cobalt jacket.

Enormous clouds drifting in the cobalt sky, soft and magnanimous, still tinged by the rose remnants of sunrise, their round edges gilded with the golden light.

His High Fae entourage was almost as large as ours, clad in similar robes of varying rich dyes—cobalt and crimson and amethyst—some with expertly kohl-lined eyes,

He was resplendent today in robes of cobalt edged in gold that offset his gleaming brown skin,

Long-limbed creatures like shards of ice given form stalked past, tall enough to plant the cobalt-and-silver banners atop various tents;

Bearing a cobalt flag with a striking badger. Graysen’s crest.

Vassa straightened, her cobalt jacket a sharp contrast to the red-gold of her hair.

Elain wearing a cobalt dress does not stand out at all compared to the other times cobalt is mentioned.

Sarah using black:

His clothes—all black, all finely made—were cut close enough to his body that I could see how magnificent he was. As if he’d been molded from the night itself.

There, lounging on a black throne, was Amarantha.

He brushed some invisible fleck of dust off his black tunic before he surveyed me.

The bed was enormous and neatly made, its black sheets of—of silk.

I imagined a wall of adamant snapping down, black as night and a foot thick.

And on another … a necklace of black diamonds. Each of the dark stones was a mystery—and an answer. Each of them slumbered. Tarquin came up behind me, peering over my shoulder at what had snagged my interest. His gaze drifted to my face. “Take it.”

Mor had fashioned my hair onto a crown atop my head—right behind the black diadem that had been set before it,

Seven red Siphons glinted over his scaled black armor as Cassian tucked in his wings

And she hadn’t dressed Nesta in her own style of loose pants and a cropped blouse. She had kept it simple. Brutal. A dress of impenetrable black flowed to the dark marble floors of the throne room of the Hewn City, tight through the bodice and sleeves.

But Tamlin’s attention had gone to the clothes Lucien now wore. The Illyrian leathers. He might as well have been wearing Night Court black. It was an effort to keep my mouth shut, to not explain that Lucien didn’t have any other clothes with him, and that they weren’t a sign of his allegiance—

Eris, standing proud and tall—wearing Night Court black—beside him.

Nesta in Night Court black threatened to bring him to his knees.

She wore a dress of sparkling black panels, much like the one she’d first worn here—and it did nothing to hide her swelling belly. / Feyre might as well have been a goddess of old, crowned and glowing, her belly swollen with life.

Elain in black was ridiculous. / He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

I think it's undeniable that while Sarah uses the word black often, her references to Elain and Lucien wearing black show a clear difference between the mentions of Cassian in black, Nesta in black, Feyre, Rhys, even Eris in black. While Elain in cobalt did not stand out from any other mention of cobalt, Elain in black most certainly does.

[one-and-a-half-yikes]

IM fandom got me actin up cause I wasn't even gonna say anything about this chapter lmao

So let's tall about it

Chapter 349: Imperfect Parents

It is not lost on me in the slightest that we're using plural nouns in this title instead of just referring to one parent. I can't imagine why.

Okay so, I'm fully understanding of why people are upset with this chapter and I get that we were so close to a good ending for the boys but-

Canola is right.

I'm not sorry she absolutely is right about this and we gotta address it now. Putting this on the record here and not just on the discord where I already went over all of this.

Let's start with the beginning.

Canola makes it clear that no minor should be in Felix's care, and upon inquiring we are given a very clear reason as to why.

And she is correct. When the Labyrinth chapters were dropping I need it to be made clear I had no patience for any of the Questers' actions regarding this scene. Every last one of them knew damn well Boris shouldn't have gone in there and they still let him regardless. The fact that Cuphead was the only one who had his wits about him enough to say no is embarrassing because when the fuck did he become the reasonable one amongst the group? Why were Leticia and Cuphead the ONLY ADULTS WHO REALIZED THAT BORIS WAS A CHILD

Everyone knew about the children going missing in Fairmont. Everyone knew how dangerous this was but because Boris didn't look like he was traumatized by the other previous quests everyone decided that he was mature enough to handle this quest. The problem lies in the fact that the Questers treat Boris like he's 25 when he's only 14. Not only that, but unlike everyone else who was going into the Labyrinth Boris was DEFENSELESS. He didn't have any real means of saving himself, and given what was in the Labyrinth? Do y'all really think a pipe was going to save his ass? The only reason why Boris lived was because Sarah used him to escape Fairmont, that's it. Otherwise he very well could have fucking died in there and then guess whose fucking fault THAT would have been

In the context of this particular conversation it doesn't matter that Canola doesn't have the full context because she doesn't need it. I said this on the discord and I'll say it again here. Every excuse and reason that people are giving for why things happened the way they did is a NAIL in Felix's coffin preventing him from adopting Boris, not a boon in his favor. These are grown ass adults, they do not need protection from their stupidity and negligence. Because let it be understood, when Canola says "Felix's isn't equipped to care for any minor" she means because of this very reason. Because what the Questers did here was negligence and child endangerment, plain and simple.

If Felix is genuinely serious about adopting Boris he needs to understand that simply listing all the problems he has isn't good enough. You're not being graded for a damn test here, no one cares about your impassioned speech about how much you love and care for those boys after everything they've gone through; it's a nice sentiment, but absolutely meaningless in the grand scheme of the conversation he's having with Canola.

Fundamentally what a social worker like Canola is asking of Felix is: with the behavioral issues and trauma this child has, can you really look after them and give them the proper care they need? Can you guarantee them a safe environment to heal and process their trauma? Can you put your foot down and reprimand Boris when he's out of line?

All of these are necessary questions to ask and all of these questions Felix has failed even before the idea of adoption occurred to him.

Things are not going to get better unless a change is made in the dynamic of the quest group. Everybody, not just Felix, has to stop treating Boris like he's an adult and recognize him for the traumatized child he is. And that means putting their foot down and Boris actually experiencing repercussions for things he does without adult guidance and supervision. Something he dearly needed during the TalentTown arc and was denied by everyone in the group who turned a blind eye to it, not because the don't care about him, but because none of them are truly equipped to deal with a child.

I don't think all hope is lost for Boris to be clear, but I am saying a change absolutely needs to happen in the group and soon if they don't want Boris getting separated. If they care, they'll do it without hesitation.

[goddessactuality]

I love Ohio whenever I see a girl out here I'm like ok sarah plain and tall. And she is

[richincolor]

Women Authors We Love

It's Women's History Month and we thought it would be fun to highlight some authors that are killing it in their genre.  Some of these books are already available and some we are absolutely looking forward to. 

Fantasy/Sci-Fi

Oathbound (Legendborn Cycle, #3) by Deonn Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

Severed from the Legendborn. Oathbound to a monster.

Bree Matthews is alone. She exiled herself from the Legendborn Order, cut her ancestral connections, and turned away from the friends who can’t understand the impossible cost of her powers. This is the only way to keep herself—and those she loves—safe.

But Bree’s decision has come with a terrible price: an unbreakable bargain with the Shadow King himself, a shapeshifter who can move between humanity, the demon underworld, and the Legendborn secret society. In exchange for training to wield her unprecedented abilities, Bree has put her future in the Shadow King’s hands—and unwittingly bound herself to do his bidding as his new protégé.

Meanwhile, the other Scions must face war with their Round Table fractured, leaderless, and missing its Kingsmage, as Selwyn has also disappeared. When Nick is detained by the Order’s Merlins, he invokes an ancient law that requires the High Council of Regents to convene at the Northern Keep and grant him an audience. No one knows what he will demand of them…or what secrets he has kept hidden from the Table.

As a string of mysterious kidnappings escalates and Merlins are found dead, it becomes clear that no matter how hard Bree runs from who she is, the past will always find her.

Available Now at Bookshop

Horror

They Bloom at Night by Trang Thanh Tran Bloomsbury YA

A red algae bloom has taken over Mercy, Louisiana. Ever since a devastating hurricane, mutated wildlife lurks in the water that rises by the day. But Mercy has always been a place where monsters walk in plain sight. Especially at its heart: The Cove, where Noon’s life was upended long before the storm at a party her older boyfriend insisted on.

Now, Noon is stuck navigating the submerged town with her mom, who believes their dead family has reincarnated as sea creatures. Alone with the pain of what happened that night at the cove, Noon buries the truth: she is not the right shape.

When Mercy’s predatory leader demands Noon and her mom capture the creature drowning residents, she reluctantly finds an ally in his deadly hunter of a daughter and friends old and new. As the next storm approaches, Noon must confront the past and decide if it’s time to answer the monster itching at her skin.

Available Now at Bookshop

Romance

Audre & Bash Are Just Friends by Tia Williams 

MEET AUDRE. Junior class president. Debate team captain. Unofficial student therapist. Desperately in need of a good time.

MEET BASH. Mysterious new senior. Everybody's crush. Tall, floppy, great taste in jewelry. King of having a good time.

It's the last day of school at Cheshire Prep, Brooklyn's elite academy--and Audre Mercy-Moore's life is a mess. Her dad cancelled her annual summer visit to his Malibu beach house. Now? She's stuck in a claustrophobic apartment with her mom, stepdad, and one-year-old sister (aka the Goblin Baby).

Under these conditions, she'll never finish writing her self-help book--ie, the key to winning over Stanford's admissions board.

Cut to Bash Henry! Audre hires him to be her "fun consultant." His job? To help her complete the Experience Challenge--her list of five wild dares designed to give her juicy book material. She'll get inspo; he'll get paid. Everybody wins.

He isn't boyfriend material. And she's not looking for one. Can they stay professional despite their obvious connection?

Available in May. Preorder at Bookshop

Historical Fiction

The Queen's Spade by Sarah Raughley 

A young lady can take only so many injuries before humiliation and insult forge a vow of revenge. . . .

The year is 1862 and murderous desires are simmering in England. Nineteen-year-old Sarah Bonetta Forbes (Sally), once a princess of the Egbado Clan, desires one thing above all else: revenge against the British Crown and its system of colonial "humanitarianism," which stole her dignity and transformed her into royal property. From military men to political leaders, she’s vowed to ruin all who’ve had a hand in her afflictions. The top of her list? Her godmother, Britain’s mighty monarch, Queen Victoria herself.

Taking down the Crown means entering into a twisted game of court politics and manipulating the Queen’s inner circle—even if that means aligning with a dangerous yet alluring crime lord in London’s underworld and exploiting the affections of Queen Victoria’s own son, Prince Albert, as a means to an end. But when Queen Victoria begins to suspect Sally’s true intentions, she plays the only card in Victorian society that could possibly cage Sally once again: marriage. Because if there’s one thing Sally desires more than revenge, it’s her freedom. With time running out and her wedding day looming, Sally’s vengeful game of cat and mouse turns deadly as she’s faced with the striking revelation that the price for vengeance isn’t just paid in blood. It means sacrificing your heart.

Available Now at Bookshop

Literary Fiction

Dear Manny by Nic Stone 

From the New York Times bestselling author of Dear Martin comes the thrilling final installment of the series, set in college. Jared (white, Justyce's roommate, woke) is running for Junior class president. With his antiracism platform, he's a shoo-in. But he's up against the new girl, Dylan. Will Jared have to choose between his head and his heart?

Jared Peter Christensen is running for president (of the Junior Class Council at his university, but still). His platform is solid—built on increased equity and inclusion in all sectors of campus life—and he’s got a good chance of beating the deeply conservative business major he’s running against.

But then a transfer student enters the race and calls Jared out for his big-talk/little-action way of moving. But what’s the right way to bring about change? As the campaign heats up, feelings are caught, and juicy secrets come to light, and Jared writes letters to his deceased friend Manny, hoping to make sense of his confusion. What’s a white boy to do when love and politics collide?

Available Now at Bookshop

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen 

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death 

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 19 ✧˚₊‧

Suguru’s dorm room was filled with a quiet excitement as Sarah finished arranging pillows around the low wooden table in the center of the room. “Perfect,” she declared, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Her eyes flicked to the red velvet cake sitting proudly on the table, the candles unlit but ready for their moment.

On the other side of the room, Satoru was precariously balanced on the edge of a chair, tongue poking out in concentration as he tied the last of the streamers to the curtain rod. “Almost there—” he muttered before the end slipped through his fingers.

“Damn it—”

“Shut up!" Shoko hissed, shushing him sharply as she crouched by the cake, a lighter in hand. “Do you want to ruin the surprise?” She flicked the lighter, coaxing each little wick into a tiny flame.

Satoru grumbled under his breath but managed to secure the streamer without further mishap. “Why are these things so fiddly?” he muttered, hopping down and brushing imaginary dust off his pants like he hadn’t just wrestled with crepe paper for ten minutes.

“Because you suck,” Sarah teased, tossing a pillow at him. He caught it with one hand, smirking.

Before Satoru could retort, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. “He’s coming!” Shoko whispered, blowing out the lighter and shoving it into her pocket.

The three of them scrambled into position as the doorknob turned. Suguru stepped into the room, his sharp features softening into a surprised smile as Sarah, Shoko, and Satoru jumped to their feet.

“Happy birthday!” they shouted in unison, their voices echoing off the dorm’s plain walls.

Suguru blinked, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as he took in the room. Streamers crisscrossed overhead, candles flickered atop the cake, and the table was surrounded by a fortress of plush pillows. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was cozy and warm—perfect.

“Wow,” he said, stepping fully into the room. “You guys did all this for me?”

“Of course!” Sarah said, grinning.

Satoru was already beside him, plonking a red party hat onto his head with a smug grin. “You’re lucky I remembered your favorite flavor,” he said, feigning nonchalance.

“Thank you, Satoru,” Suguru said sincerely, his eyes warm as they met his friend’s. Satoru’s ears turned faintly pink, and he coughed, suddenly very interested in fiddling with the edge of a streamer.

They all settled around the table, Suguru sitting cross-legged at the center. Shoko nudged the cake closer to him. “Make a wish,” she said with a small smile.

As they sang, their voices ranged from Sarah’s energetic enthusiasm to Satoru’s overly dramatic vibrato, and Suguru laughed through most of it. When the song ended, he leaned forward and blew out the candles in one smooth breath.

The room erupted in applause, and Satoru nudged him playfully. “Hope you didn't waste a good wish, those things don't come cheap,” he said with a smirk.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Suguru said dryly, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “Really, though—thank you, all of you. This is… amazing.”

As the last crumbs of cake disappeared, Satoru pushed himself to his feet with a mischievous grin that immediately put everyone on high alert. “Alright, birthday boy,” he announced, stepping over to his bed, “You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “There’s more?”

“Oh, there’s more.” Satoru bent down and hauled out a stack of board games so tall it nearly toppled as he wrestled it onto the table. “Ta-da!” he said triumphantly, dusting off his hands.

Suguru’s jaw dropped as he took in the eclectic pile of boxes. “Wait—these are all the games I mentioned?” he asked, pointing at the stack.

“Every. Single. One.” Satoru beamed, leaning on the stack like it was his crowning achievement. “And we’re playing all of them before curfew.”

Suguru chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t mean literally all of them, Satoru. I just said they sounded fun.”

“Uh-uh,” Satoru interrupted, wagging a finger. “You said you wanted to try them, and I, being the thoughtful and generous friend I am, made that happen. No take-backs.”

Sarah piped up, clapping her hands once for emphasis. “Exactly! It’s your birthday, Suguru, so we’re doing this for you. If you want a twelve-hour board game marathon, then we’ll give you a twelve-hour board game marathon.” She plopped onto a pillow, crossing her arms with mock determination. “Don’t even try to argue. This is happening."

“Not that it’s even that much to ask,” Shoko chimed in, leaning back on her hands, “You could’ve been way greedier, honestly. Like, where’s the outrageous demands? The unreasonable requests? We’re practically getting off easy here.”

Suguru rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered but grinning all the same. “You guys are ridiculous," he murmured.

“And you,” Satoru said, dramatically flinging open the top game box and pulling out a deck of cards, “are about to lose spectacularly at every single one of these.”

“Oh, please,” Suguru shot back, leaning forward to grab the instructions, "You can barely follow the rules to Uno, let alone anything with actual strategy.”

“Hey, rude!” Satoru gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded, “You’re just scared of my superior gaming skills.”

“You don’t have those for everything,” Sarah chimed in.

“Agreed,” Shoko added, smirking.

The room quickly filled with laughter as they started setting up the first game, Suguru dramatically narrating every step while Sarah sorted pieces with an intensity that rivaled a world championship. Shoko, shaking her head but smiling all the while, leaned back against a pillow.

“Alright, fine,” Suguru said, watching his friends bicker good-naturedly over who got to pick their player piece first. “Let’s do this.”

“Damn right we will!” Satoru crowed, raising a fist in the air.

And so the night unfolded in a flurry of dice rolls, questionable alliances, and far too much competitive banter. Suguru didn’t stop smiling once—not even when Satoru flipped the board after losing to Sarah for the third time in a row.

But soon enough room was no longer the picture of lighthearted fun. The four friends sat huddled around the low table, leaning closer and closer as the board for Pandemic became a web of red, blue, and yellow cubes threatening to overtake their carefully laid plans. The stakes were high—Tokyo was on the verge of falling, Atlanta was a lost cause, and someone had just drawn an epidemic card.

“Okay, okay,” Satoru muttered, squinting at his hand of cards like it would suddenly reveal some miracle solution. “If I can get to Delhi, I can clear it before the outbreak spreads—”

“Assuming you don’t roll a three and accidentally make it worse,” Sarah cut in, her voice sharp but teasing as she arranged her cards on the table.

“Have a little faith!” Satoru protested, puffing out his chest.

“You rolled a three last turn,” Shoko deadpanned, pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face as she leaned over the board. “And the turn before that.”

“Hey, dice are unpredictable!” Satoru huffed, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his enjoyment of the chaos.

Suguru, calm and composed as always, tapped his fingers on the table. “If we don’t act fast, the game’s over. Shoko, can you get to Kinshasa on your turn? That might buy us some time.”

“Assuming I survive long enough to take my turn,” she muttered, glancing at the ticking timer that was the outbreak track.

The tension was thick as Sarah stared down at her cards, biting her lip. Everyone watched her, waiting to see what move she would make. And then—

“Nope!” she said suddenly, slamming her cards down and flopping onto her back dramatically. “I’m done. The disease got me. I’m out.”

The room was silent for a beat, then Satoru burst into laughter, tossing his cards onto the table. “You’re just giving up? That’s it?”

“I’m over it!” Sarah declared, lying on the floor with her arms crossed over her chest like a vampire in a coffin. “I’ve succumbed to the plague. Let me rest in peace.”

Suguru chuckled, setting his cards aside and crawling over to where Sarah lay. “If you’re going out, we might as well make it official,” he said, clearing his throat dramatically. “Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here today to mourn Sarah, taken too soon by the Great Pandemic of 2024. She fought bravely but ultimately decided—”

“—she couldn’t be bothered anymore,” Shoko finished, smirking as she joined them on the floor.

“Shoko gets me,” Sarah said from her ‘grave,’ her voice muffled by the pillow gently placed over her face by Shoko.

Satoru scooted closer, his laughter barely contained as he propped his chin on his hand. “I’d like to add that she was also terrible at following directions and made some very questionable moves throughout the game," he added.

“Excuse me?” Sarah snapped, sitting up just enough to glare at him, "I’m dead. You can’t insult the dead. That's some bullshit.”

“Oh, I definitely can,” Satoru shot back, grinning. “It’s called honest reflection.”

Suguru waved them down, ever the peacekeeper. “Enough! Let’s not tarnish her memory.” He paused for dramatic effect, steepling his fingers. “Sarah was… well, she was here. And she tried her best.”

Sarah groaned, flopping back down. “You’re all the worst. I’m haunting this dorm," she declared, "When I become a ghost you'll all see."

“Bring it on, ghost girl,” Satoru teased, nudging her foot.

The seriousness of the game was long forgotten as the group dissolved into laughter, the board abandoned and the outbreak track climbing unchecked. Even Shoko cracked a smile as she stretched out on the floor, muttering something about how they’d definitely all be dead in real life if this was how they handled an actual pandemic.

“Alright,” Suguru said after catching his breath, looking between his friends. “So… Next game? No more diseases."

“Deal,” Sarah replied from the floor, raising her hand in mock solemnity. “But only if I get to haunt Satoru in the next round.”

“You already do,” Satoru quipped, earning another pillow thrown his way.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The weeks flew by as winter slowly thawed into spring, blanketing the campus in pink cherry blossoms by the time April rolled around. Between missions and exorcising curses, the four friends managed to carve out plenty of time for each other, their bond growing stronger with every shared laugh, argument, and ridiculous plan. 

February brought Valentine’s Day, which Satoru treated as his personal comedy show. “Ladies,” he’d said, sauntering into the common room with his sunglasses on and a self-satisfied grin, “form a line. I know you all have something for me.” 

Sarah rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Oh, yeah, because we all spent so much time making chocolates for you,” she deadpanned, tossing a wrapped candy bar at him. 

“Aw, Sarah, you shouldn’t have,” Satoru teased, catching it effortlessly. 

“It’s expired,” she shot back, smirking. 

Suguru, ever the smooth one, handed out chocolates with a calm smile and a “Happy Valentine’s,” earning a heartfelt “Aww!” from Sarah and Shoko. He even gave Satoru one, which caused the taller boy to clutch his chest and proclaim, “Suguru, you shouldn’t have! I’m not ready for this level of commitment.” 

Shoko had handed out store-bought chocolates with zero fanfare, though Sarah noticed she’d gone for the fancy brand and made sure everyone got their favorite flavor. “Don’t read into it,” she’d said when Sarah teased her. “I just like peace and quiet.” 

March rolled in with White Day, and if Valentine’s was fun, White Day was absolutely unhinged. 

Satoru showed up wearing a bowtie and carrying a stack of carefully wrapped gifts so tall he could barely see over them. “Don’t worry, everyone,” he announced, dramatically plopping them on the table. “I went all out to make up for last month. Prepare to be amazed.” 

The gifts turned out to be laughably specific and somehow perfect. Sarah got a ridiculous puzzle featuring a cursed spirit wearing sunglasses “Because it reminded me of you,” Satoru said with a wink. Shoko received a set of herbal teas, “to match her calm and soothing personality” which made Shoko snort. Suguru, however, got a beautifully crafted wooden box filled with red velvet cupcakes, which made him pause. 

“Oh? All this for me?” Suguru asked, a little surprised. 

“Of course,” Satoru replied, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the proud grin on his face. “I have a great memory.”

Suguru returned the favor with small, thoughtful gifts for everyone, though Satoru insisted his was clearly the best: a pair of novelty sunglasses shaped like stars. “Because you’re a star, Satoru,” Suguru said with a straight face, making Satoru beam like he’d won the lottery. 

The laughter and camaraderie carried them into April, where spring painted the school grounds in pastel colors and the air grew warmer. Cherry blossoms fell like snow whenever the wind picked up, carpeting the paths and courtyards in pink petals. The start of the new school year brought a buzz of energy to campus, but for the four of them, it was just another chapter in their chaotic, wonderful lives. 

Even with the added pressure of missions and the occasional all-nighter in the library, they still made time to sit under the cherry blossom trees, eating convenience store snacks and teasing each other mercilessly. 

One breezy afternoon, as the petals swirled around them, Satoru leaned back on his hands and grinned. “I think we’re doing pretty great at this whole life thing.” 

Sarah, mid-bite of a taiyaki, raised an eyebrow. “What part of ‘great’ includes getting ambushed by a curse last week because you stopped to admire your reflection in a puddle?” 

“It was a very reflective puddle,” Satoru shot back, feigning offense. 

Suguru chuckled, brushing a stray petal from his shoulder. “As long as you’re all still alive to argue about it, I’d say we’re doing fine.” 

Shoko, lying flat on the ground with her arms crossed over her chest, muttered, “Barely.” 

The group burst into laughter, the sound carrying on the spring breeze, as another petal landed perfectly on Satoru’s head. He didn’t notice, and no one told him. It was too perfect to ruin.

Later that week, Satoru leaned against one of the thick tree trunks in the courtyard, his ever-present sunglasses pushed up to the bridge of his nose. The petals from the blooming cherry blossoms danced lazily in the breeze, but for once, he wasn’t paying attention to the way they caught the light or how perfect they looked swirling around his head (a natural spotlight, obviously). His focus was elsewhere, his mind spinning with a question that didn’t quite make sense. 

Nanami and Haibara were joining the school in a few days. That wasn’t weird; he knew those two would end up here. What was weird was the inclusion of Sarah. 

She’d already been here for a while, and she’d been a constant part of his life this past year, bickering with him, laughing with him, occasionally teaming up with Shoko to outwit him, and becoming a fast friend to all three of them. But she was going to be their underclassman—the same year as Nanami and Haibara. That didn’t make sense.

In his first life, Nanami and Haibara had been the only two in their year. He could remember it so clearly. Sarah hadn’t been there then. Or… had she?

Satoru frowned, his sunglasses slipping slightly as he tried to piece it together. Maybe she’d come to Jujutsu Tech back then too, but for some reason, she wasn’t in their lives. Had she been in a different year? No, that didn’t track either. She was only a year younger than him and on top of that she definitely hadn't been in the year with Ijichi. Had something—or someone—changed her path? 

His eyes darted across the courtyard as a group of upperclassmen walked by, laughing and chatting. They didn’t even notice him as they headed toward the school building, but Satoru narrowed his eyes behind his shades. 

Was it them? He vaguely recognized a couple of the faces from the future, or at least the ones that had made it to adulthood. Back in his first life, he’d told Ijichi to quit sorcery and become a manager—a decision that, honestly, had been one of his better ideas. Ijichi was better off for it. But now that Satoru thought about it, Sarah had already been picked out for being weak by the upperclassmen. They'd backed off after a few "polite" warnings by Suguru and him, but that wouldn't have been an option before.

The thought made his jaw tighten. He could picture it too clearly. What if she’d been with them, out of the orbit of him, Suguru, and Shoko? What if someone had made her feel like she didn’t belong? Like she wasn’t good enough? The idea of Sarah being bullied—or worse, bullied out of sorcery—made his stomach twist.

Mostly because... He almost did that same thing to her when he met her.

“Hey,” Suguru’s voice broke through his thoughts, calm and steady as always. He dropped onto the grass next to Satoru, glancing at him curiously. “You’re frowning," he said, tilting his head.

Satoru blinked, startled, and then shrugged like he didn’t care. “I’m not frowning," he huffed, "I’m thinking. Big difference.” 

“Ah, my mistake,” Suguru said, smirking slightly as he leaned back on his hands, “What are you thinking about?” 

Satoru hesitated, glancing toward the school building where the upperclassmen had disappeared. “Just… weird timeline stuff," he mumbled.

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “That’s weird, even for you," he sighed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Satoru said quickly, waving him off, “I’m probably overthinking.” 

But even as he said it, his gaze drifted toward the courtyard again, watching the wind scatter petals across the ground. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—had changed the course of Sarah’s life back then. And whatever it was, he wasn’t going to let it happen again.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Kento Nanami stood stiffly in the classroom, arms crossed and posture as rigid as a ruler. His sharp gaze swept over the scene before him: a whirlwind of chaos, noise, and questionable dance moves. On one side of him, the perpetually cheerful boy—Haibara, if he remembered correctly—was wearing his bright red party hat like it was a badge of honor, grinning from ear to ear. On his other side, the girl, Sarah, had hers slightly tilted to the side, matching the playful smirk on her face. 

Across the room, the three upperclassmen were the epicenter of the madness. The white-haired one—Gojo, he thought—was leading the charge, spinning in circles and flailing his arms like a malfunctioning wind turbine. Geto and Shoko flanked him, both putting in a half-hearted effort that only made the spectacle even more absurd. 

Nanami sighed. Again. 

“Come on, Nanami!” Haibara said, elbowing him lightly. His enthusiasm was as relentless as it was baffling. “You’ve gotta join us! It’s way more fun when everyone’s in on it.” 

“I highly doubt that,” Nanami replied, his tone flat and unimpressed. 

Sarah leaned over, grinning up at him. “Oh, don’t be such a stick in the mud," she laughed, "It’s not every day you get welcomed to Jujutsu Tech with a dance party. Embrace it!” 

“I fail to see how this qualifies as a ‘welcome,’” Nanami said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s tradition,” Sarah shot back, though the mischievous glint in her eye suggested otherwise, “Right, Gojo-senpai?” The way she emphasized senpai, like it was some kind of inside joke, made him want to sigh again.

“Absolutely!” Gojo called from across the room, pausing mid-spin to flash Nanami an exaggerated thumbs-up. “It’s a sacred ritual for all first-years. You wouldn’t want to offend the dance gods, would you?” 

Nanami stared at him, unblinking. “There’s no such thing as dance gods," he stated.

“Ohhh, Nanami,” Haibara said, shaking his head dramatically. “You’re really testing your luck with statements like that.” 

“See?” Sarah added, nudging him again. “Even Haibara knows better.” 

Nanami sighed again, long and deep, as if trying to summon the patience of a thousand lifetimes. He’d been at Jujutsu Tech for less than a day, and he was already questioning every decision that had led him here. 

As if sensing his internal struggle, Suguru broke away from the impromptu dance circle and strolled over, a calm and collected presence amid the chaos. “Satoru is just being Satoru,” he said smoothly, his voice low enough for only Nanami to hear, “You don’t actually have to join in. He just likes to push people’s buttons.” 

Nanami glanced at Suguru, appreciating the reprieve. “Thank you,” he said, his voice clipped but sincere. 

“But,” Suguru added, a small smile playing on his lips, “if you do join, it’ll shut him up faster.” 

Nanami blinked, then turned his gaze back to Gojo, who was now dramatically moonwalking in his direction. He sighed again, heavier this time, “I can’t believe this is my life now.” 

Sarah laughed, “Welcome to Jujutsu Tech, Nanami. You’ll get used to it.” 

Haibara clapped him on the back, grinning. “Or you’ll learn to love it!” he said.

“Doubtful,” Nanami muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched, just barely. He wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but a small part of him was starting to think that maybe there was something endearing about the madness.

Or well... He thought so until his first mission. Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. His sword was still in his hand, its blade streaked with the fading remnants of the pitifully weak curses he'd just dispatched. The small, shadowy forms were already dissipating into nothingness, leaving behind nothing but the faint, acrid scent of their defeat. 

From behind him came an eruption of noise that he really should have anticipated by now. 

"Nanami, that was amazing!" Haibara’s voice was full of awe, as if Nanami had just single-handedly toppled a special grade curse. "You’re so cool!" 

"Seriously," Sarah chimed in, just as enthusiastically. "That slicing thing you did at the end? Chef’s kiss. Absolute perfection." 

Nanami sighed, flicking the cursed blood off his blade with a practiced motion. “It was a simple exorcism. There’s no need for theatrics," he said calmly.

But Haibara was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, his face lit up like a kid who’d just seen his favorite hero in action. “No, no, no, you don’t get it, Nanami!" He insisted, "You made it look effortless! The way you just—bam!—took them all out? Legendary.” 

Sarah nodded fervently, her grin wide and unrepentant. “It was super cool!" She agreed, nodding excitedly, "We gotta come up with a nickname or something for you!"

"Please don’t," Nanami replied flatly, shaking his head as he stepped toward Sarah. She was already holding out the black sheath bag for his sword, grinning like she was part of a pit crew and he was their star driver. 

“You’re welcome,” she said cheekily as he slid the sword into its sheath with practiced precision. 

He gave her a look, but it lacked any real heat. “Thank you.” 

That was apparently all the encouragement the two of them needed because as soon as the sword was safely stowed, Haibara and Sarah launched into an animated conversation about his “technique,” their words tumbling over one another in a chaotic but strangely endearing cacophony. 

“I mean, the way he angled the blade—” 

“—and that calculation mid-swing? Beautiful.” 

Nanami sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of long-suffering exasperation. “You’re both overreacting,” he said, but it didn’t deter them in the slightest. 

Haibara tilted his head, his expression curious now. “How did you figure out your technique, anyway? It seems so… precise. Like, it’s not just something you stumble into, right?” 

Nanami adjusted the strap of his sheath bag and glanced down at the younger boy. “Techniques are inherited,” he explained, his tone matter-of-fact. “I’ve understood how to use mine, in some form, for most of my life. It’s simply a matter of refining it.” 

“Whoa,” Haibara said, his eyes wide with genuine admiration. “So it’s like it’s in your blood or something?” 

“Something like that,” Nanami said, his tone clipped but not unkind. 

Sarah crossed her arms, smirking. “Inherited technique or not, you’ve clearly put in the work. It’s impressive, Nanami. Admit it, you’re a bit of a prodigy.” 

“I’m not a prodigy,” he said firmly, glancing at her. “I’m efficient. There’s a difference.” 

“Efficient and humble,” Sarah teased. 

He groaned quietly, already regretting letting them tag along on this mission. Yet, as Haibara’s laughter filled the air and Sarah grinned at him like she knew exactly how to get under his skin, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to feel truly annoyed. If nothing else, they made the monotony of low-grade curses more bearable.

The fight had barely cooled, the last remnants of the curses finally dissolving into the air, when Sarah clapped her hands together, her eyes lighting up with a spark of mischief. "Okay," she said decisively, "we’re getting sukiyaki." 

Haibara’s head whipped around so fast it was a wonder he didn’t sprain his neck. “Sukiyaki?” His face broke into a grin as wide as the moon, “Sarah, you’re the best!” 

Before she could reply, Haibara threw his arms around her in an enthusiastic hug, nearly lifting her off the ground in his excitement. Sarah let out a snort, playfully swatting at him once she wriggled free. “Of course I’m the best,” she said, her tone dripping with mock arrogance. “Obviously.” 

“You’re not even pretending to be humble, are you?” Nanami muttered, his arms crossed as he watched the display unfold. 

Sarah tilted her head at him, raising an eyebrow. “Humble? What’s that? Sounds boring," she shrugged.

Before Nanami could retort, she turned to Haibara with a grin. “Come on, Haibara, let’s drag Mr. Efficient-and-No-Fun over here with us," she said, "Sukiyaki is a group activity, and we’re not leaving him behind.” 

Nanami immediately straightened, frowning. “Absolutely not," he said, shaking his head, "It’s already late, and we have class tomorrow morning. We should be getting back to—” 

His protests were cut off as Sarah and Haibara simultaneously latched onto him, each grabbing one of his arms and linking theirs with his in a way that brooked no argument. Felt like he was instantly in the Wizard of Oz and it was time to follow the yellow brick road. And it was exactly that annoying as well.

“Oh, come on, Nanami,” Sarah said, her tone sweet but clearly not up for debate, “Live a little.” 

Haibara grinned up at him, looking every bit the accomplice in crime. “Yeah, Nanami," he insisted, "It’s just sukiyaki. We’ll make sure you’re in bed before midnight. Probably.” 

“Probably?” Nanami repeated, incredulous. 

But they were already moving, their combined enthusiasm propelling him forward whether he liked it or not. He didn’t bother resisting. At this point, he’d learned that trying to reason with the two of them when they were like this was about as effective as reasoning with a tornado. 

By the time they reached the car, Yaga was leaning against the door, arms crossed, a single eyebrow raised as he watched the three of them approach. “Do I even want to ask?” he said dryly. 

“Sukiyaki,” Sarah announced proudly. 

“Late-night bonding,” Haibara added with equal enthusiasm. 

Nanami sighed, his expression a perfect picture of resignation. “I tried to stop them," he said quietly.

Yaga looked at him, unimpressed. “Not hard enough, apparently," he said with a huff of a laugh.

Sarah and Haibara grinned at each other as they climbed into the car, dragging Nanami along with them. As Yaga got behind the wheel, Sarah turned to Haibara with a conspiratorial grin. 

“Let’s make sure Nanami gets the best seat,” she whispered loudly enough for him to hear, earning her another sigh, "Since he's the champion today."

“You two are insufferable,” Nanami muttered, though there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as the car pulled away. 

Sarah caught it, of course, and nudged Haibara with a triumphant look. “We’re growing on him," she said, settling back in the seat.

“Like moss,” Haibara agreed. 

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose again, but this time, the sigh that followed sounded just a little less heavy.

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