Real calm. Calm almost like how God must be calm, you know, Mylene? Calm from loving.

I’ll never forgive them for canceling this show and not releasing all of the FUCKING MUSIC FROM IT UUUUGGGHHHH

ANASTASIA (1997) dir. Don Bluth & Gary Goldman

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: This is a long one and based off certain scenes in Lucas on the Line. As a black person, I never realized I was other until it was pointed out to me and once I internalized it, I had questions I couldn't ask my parent(s) because it's not something discussed at length in the black community because trying to survive is hard enough. I honestly urge y'all to read Lucas on the Line because it's such a well written story about the Black Experience and how nuanced and difficult it is to navigate especially black kids who grew up in white neighbourhoods.

I hope y'all enjoy. Let me know what you guys think and if you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know too! 🤎

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 4588

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

THE WOODS 

I squeal dropping the mallet on the ground at the sound of a gunshot. Nancy giggles waiting for me as I pick up my weapon in the shrubbery. I never thought I would be on my way to meet up with Jonathan Byers on the opposite side of town to learn how to shoot a gun. But then again, a lot more bizarre things have happened this week so I shouldn’t be surprised. Nancy and I trek up the small hill as Jonathan shoots repeatedly at the target of empty tin cans or at least attempts to. 

“You’re supposed to hit the cans, right?” 

Jonathan looks over his shoulder smiling sheepishly. “No, actually you see the spaces in between the cans? I’m aiming for those.”  

“Sure.” Nancy answers, titling her head in amusement. She drops her backpack and baseball bat on the ground ready for practice. 

I don’t take off my backpack right away, taking in my surroundings. The wide-open space of dry leaves, weeds and shrubs. The tall pine trees encircling the space. The winter chill started to come in and I wish I wore a hat today to cover my ears, maybe even a heavier coat instead of a denim jacket. Jonathan opens the revolver to check how many bullets are in the cylinder before reaching in his pockets for more. 

“You ever shot a gun before?” 

“Absolutely not.” I answer. 

“Didn’t your dad fight in the Vietnam War?” I nod my head, shifting from side to side on my feet. My Dad would never let any of us touch a gun. There was no reason for us to. Jonathan shrugs.  “I’m surprised he hasn’t taught you how to shoot a gun,” he commented, directing his gaze to Nancy. “You?” 

Nancy scoffs. “Have you met my parents?” 

“Yeah, I haven’t shot one since I was nine. My dad took me hunting on my birthday.” I see the spark in his eyes dwindle to a low flame. “He made me kill a rabbit.” 

“A rabbit?” Nancy and I say at the same time.

“Yeah. I guess he thought it would make me into more of a man or something.” 

“Yes, because the world needs more men shooting guns.” I deadpan. 

Jonathan smirks, adding bullets to the cylinder. “I cried for a week.” 

“Jesus.” Nancy whispers. 

“I’m sorry.” I say to him. 

Jonathan didn’t say anything as he tried to drag emotion back under where he didn’t need to feel it. He snaps the revolver in place, the corners of his lips rise to a smirk again. “What? I’m a fan of Thumper.” 

“I meant your dad.” Nancy says. 

The detachment in his tone makes me uncomfortable. In seeing Jonathan’s dad for the first time today, the way he dressed and carried himself. There was something arrogant and insincere about him. When Will first went missing, I never heard Jonathan mention his dad, when Nancy and I found Jonathan at the funeral home, he was by himself picking caskets. Ms. Byers was at home grieving, but the whole town knew how adamant she was on finding Will, but where was his dad? The audacity to show up to the funeral of his youngest son, he did nothing to plan, to shake hands with the people who did care to find Will. Now with this story, it completed the picture. He was never in Jonathan and Will’s life and didn’t care to be. Only wanted to insert his toxic male dominance and masculinity onto the boys. 

“I guess he and my mother loved each other at some point...but I wasn’t around for that part.” 

Nancy gestures for the gun and Jonathan hands it to her. “Just point and shoot.” 

I walk behind Nancy to stand beside Jonathan, refusing to be anywhere near that sound. Nancy takes a deep breath aiming the gun at the can a few yards in front of her. 

“I don’t think my parents ever loved each other.” 

My eyebrows raise at the bold statement. “Nancy, you shouldn’t say that.” 

“I mean it.” she answers. 

“They must’ve married for some reason.” Jonathan states. 

“My mom was young. My dad was older but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family.” 

“Screw that.” Jonathan says. 

“Yeah. Screw that.” 

Nancy closes one eye aiming for the beer can. I put my fingers in in ears just as Nancy pulls the trigger hitting the beer can. I chuckle in disbelief. From shot gunning to shooting them, anything involving beer cans, Nancy is a natural. I shrug off my backpack, placing the mallet on top. Despite the awe, I am uncomfortable with what Nancy said about her parents. Sure, Mr. Wheeler was a bit…impartial. I was around the family many times to know that, but to say her parents never loved each other? I don’t know. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to try, Diana?” Jonathan asks, offering me the gun. I don’t move contemplating. “It’s not gonna bite.” He jokes. I make a face at Jonathan and he laughs as I cautiously take it from him with my gloved hand. 

“Just point and shoot?” 

“Just point and shoot.” 

I standing in front of a can, widening my stance so I don’t fall over. “There’s nothing wrong with starting a nuclear family.”  

“That’s easy for you to say,” Nancy voices. “Your family is perfect.” 

I narrow my eyes at her, shaking my head. The contempt in her tone is shocking. “That’s not true.” 

“Diana,” Nancy chides, shoving her hands in her pockets. “You never argue with your parents and your parents never argue with each other. You are perfect. Your siblings are perfect. Everyone in your family is perfect.” 

I don’t miss Jonathan’s eyes darting back and forth between us. Having never seen us go back and forth with each other, I can tell he is surprised by this. What he doesn’t know is this topic of conversation isn’t new. Throughout our years of friendship, Nancy and Barb always made fun of me for being “perfect”; how I never make mistakes; I am always put together. I need at least eight-hours of “beauty” sleep. From the nickname “Lady Diana”, to my mom making me lunches because I refuse to each cafeteria food. At first it used to bother me, but I moved passed it until Tommy H and Carol picked up on it and started calling me “Anal Princess”. 

This may not be a new conversation, but the undertone certainly is and it’s why I am thrown off by it. It doesn’t sound like a joke anymore and there’s something deeper going on. I never thought Nancy envied me. I know I certainly envied Nancy for being strong enough to stand up for herself and say no. For being able to be defiant without feeling like its wrong. I lift my head high lifting the gun eye level. 

“I’m not perfect and my parents do argue, just not in front of us and there’s nothing wrong with that.” I begin. “You want to know why my dad never taught me how to fire a gun?” I refer to Jonathan’s comment earlier. “Because he never talks about the War unless it’s to teach us a lesson. I don’t know any stories of his time there. My family is seemingly perfect because we don’t talk about things, we don’t have difficult conversations. We just keep our heads down and try to live without feeling more of an outsider than we already are.”  I pull the trigger and the bullet hits the can knocking it off the tree stub. 

None of us react. The heaviness of what I said laying on thick. My family isn’t perfect. We are far from it. We are compliant and conforming because it’s the only way to not be seen as more of an outsider than we already are. I understand it to a certain extent, but sometimes I wish my parents would talk more about it. About being black in an all-white religious town. About their past and how they came to Hawkins. I know nothing and it’s something I push down to be the “perfect” daughter when deep down it bothers me. This is not something I can discuss with Lucas and Erica because they are happy in their bubble and I want to keep it that way for them. 

“What do you mean?” Nancy asks with a frown. “You’re not an outsider, Di.” 

“Never mind.” I say, handing Jonathan the gun, feeling more uncomfortable than before.

Nancy didn’t question me again and after shooting practice we decided to head through the forest looking for the mysterious animal. Dried leaves crunch under my boots as we all walked in silence. Jonathan and Nancy walked together giving me space to be alone for a while which I am grateful for because I didn’t feel like talking. My mind feels like it’s been jostled back and forth, buzzing with many thoughts. I can’t believe I said that out loud. I’ve never talked about it because who do I talk about this with? Uncle Jack only comes to Hawkins once a year and when he does the environment is uncomfortable and stuffy because Dad doesn’t like Uncle Jack and doesn’t hide it. Long distance calls are expensive and I have no money to pay for it and if Dad finds out I’ve been talking to Uncle Jack he’d be furious. Maybe I should start journaling or writing letters I’ll never send. 

“You never said what I was saying?” Nancy speaks after a long period of silence. 

“What?” Jonathan says. 

The conversation about the photos began in the darkroom yesterday, but I interrupted when I saw the final development of the photo of the thing that took Will and Barb. It’s definitely been the great elephant in the room between the three of us and though the conversation in the darkroom was light in nature, it is a serious situation. 

“Yesterday, you said, I was saying something and that’s why you took my picture.” I glance around not focusing on anything, while keeping my ears perked. 

“Oh, I don’t know. My guess…I saw this girl; you know trying to be someone else. But for that moment…it was like you were alone or you thought you were,” I cautiously peer at Nancy. She looks like she’s about to explode. “And, you know you could just be yourself.” 

I ground my teeth. Jonathan just opened up a huge can of worms. A few days ago, I would’ve agreed but after talking to Nancy, I don’t think she is trying to be someone else. She’s a young woman exploring and there’s nothing wrong with that. Also, Jonathan isn’t close to Nancy to know who she is and who she isn’t. Nancy doesn’t respond right away, processing the soft insult. She stops clenching her hands into fists. 

“That is such bullshit.” Nancy fumes, glaring at Jonathan. “I am not trying to be someone else. Just because I’m dating Steve and you don’t like him—” 

“You know what? Forget it. I just thought it was a good picture.” 

My head retracts back. “So, you were intentional in taking those photos.” 

Jonathan’s head whips back. His brows shoot up in disbelief. “What?” 

“You said you thought it was a good picture which means you were intentional about taking it.” My voice hardens. “Taking all of it.” 

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Diana.” Jonathan mutters furiously under his breath, walking away. I march behind him trying to keep up with his long legs and quick strides.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth! Nancy asked you a question and your answer quite frankly, was bullshit. Because really? That’s what you were thinking when she was taking off her shirt?” It’s a cop out. A poor excuse to deflect from what he did. Jonathan scoffs. “Unbelievable.” I hiss, catching myself before I trip over a branch. “What about how Steve feels?” 

“Oh my god!” Jonathan throws his hands up in exasperation and I am filled with so much adrenaline I’m starting to shake. 

“I told you his privacy was violated too!” I snap. “As was mine, Tommy, Carol, and Barb!” 

Jonathan spins around, eyes bulging out of his sockets. “And I said I was sorry for taking the photos!” He shouts. I blink repeatedly taken aback by this attitude. No one has ever yelled at me like that and Jonathan was the last person I thought would. Nancy steps in scowling at him. 

“Don’t yell at her!” she shouts, pointing at him. Jonathan glares at her and keeps his mouth shut. I look down at my boots, done with the conversation. “Steve is actually a good guy. The whole camera situation. He’s not like that at all. He was just being protective.” 

“Yeah.” Jonathan scoffs, walking away. “That’s one word for it.” 

“And what you did was okay?” Nancy barks, following after him. I stalk behind her keeping my distance. 

“I never said that.” 

“He had every right to be pissed—”

“Okay, all right.” Jonathan says, rolling his eyes, coming to a halt. “Does that mean I have to like him?” 

“No.” 

“Listen, don’t take it so personally, okay? I don’t like most people. He’s in the vast majority.” 

This is why he’s being like this. Because he doesn’t like Steve and has some sort of animosity towards him. I never thought I would stick up for Steve, but after my encounter with him in my garage, I think he’s a good person and deserves a chance to be seen and heard outside his bubble. 

“You know, I was actually starting to think that you were okay.” Nancy rages. 

“Yeah?” Jonathan challenges, eyes glowing with savage fire. 

“Yeah, I was thinking, ‘Jonathan Byers, maybe he’s not the pretentious creep everyone says he is.’” 

“Well, I was just starting to think you were okay. I was thinking, ‘Nancy Wheeler, she’s not just another suburban girl who thinks she’s rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does, until that phase passes and they marry some boring one-time jock who now works sales, and they live out a perfectly boring little life at the end of a cul-de-sac.’” His voice was stern with no vestige of sympathy in its hardness. “’Exactly like their parents, who they thought were so depressing, but now, hey, they get it.’” 

Nancy and I watch Jonathan march away. We look at each other absolutely gobsmacked at what just happened. Nancy’s face is so red, the veins in her neck pulsates with pent-up fury as she clenches her fists. I wrap my arm around her shoulders guiding her along the path. 

I admire the colours of the sky as we trek through the forest. Shades of pink, orange, and yellow blending and oozing together. The sun was setting and we would soon need to use our flashlights to navigate through the forest. My back aches from carrying my backpack for so long and I want to tell Jonathan to stop so we can take a break but he was far ahead keeping his distance. All of us have been quiet since the argument though Nancy walked beside me, we haven’t spoken focusing on our surroundings, deep in thought. 

A lot of truth has been said today and it felt like it was shoved down all our throats. I’m not mad at Jonathan for yelling at me and I hope he’s not mad at me for calling him out. What he did was stupid and I know he knows that, but picking a fight with Nancy was something completely different. It felt more personal and I can’t quite put my finger on why it would be since Jonathan and Nancy aren’t close. If anything, they may be farther apart now after what he said to her. I doubt Jonathan wants that especially because of how far we’ve come. 

“Are you okay?” Nancy asks quietly enough so Jonathan doesn’t hear. 

“Yes.” I respond automatically. Nancy looks at me and I drop the act. “No.” 

“Me neither.” she agrees, glaring at the back of Jonathan’s head. “I’m so sick of him and his holier than thou attitude.” 

“I can’t believe he yelled at me.” 

“I can’t believe that either!” she whispers hastily. “I didn’t like that.” 

“I know. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Thank you for sticking up for me and Steve.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

I debate on whether I should tell her he came to my house today, but decide it doesn’t matter and she probably already knew about it since he was in his way to see her anyways. 

“I can’t believe Princess Diana swore.” she teases, touching her chest in shock. 

“Oh, shut up.” I giggle, pushing her away. 

“Ou, again!” I roll my eyes. 

“I was just trying to understand why he took the photos.” 

“I honestly don’t even think he knows.” she says, looking at Jonathan again. There was no anger in her eyes, just curiosity.

“After that conversation, I think so too.” 

Nancy hums in response, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ears. “I was going to bring it up later but, what you did earlier today about being an outsider. What did you mean?” 

A ripple of anxiety went up my back while my stomach fell to my feet. I shrug my shoulders shaking me head. “I don’t know.” I deflect. 

“Diana, we’ve been friends for so long, you can talk to me about anything. You know that right?” 

I do know that, but this conversation was not about a boy or anything menial like that. It was much deeper and something I’ve been pushing down for years. I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but when Nancy went on about my perfect day family, I snapped. This past week I feel like I’ve gone through the most significant changes which in turn has brought up subconscious thoughts, emotions and insecurities. I feel like I’m being pulled in every direction, perfect daughter, perfect friend, Juilliard, Blackness, otherness. But who am I? Where do I want to go? Who do I want to be? 

“Diana.” Worry etched Nancy’s features. My silence makes her more anxious. I sigh, stepping over a branch. 

“Have you ever noticed there is no one who looks like me in our neighbourhood?” I mumble, uncomfortably. 

“No? What do you mean?” An expected answer. I close my eyes counting down from five. How do I go about this? 

“I mean, black.” I say, pushing down the lump forming in my throat. “My family…” I clear my throat. “My family is the only black family in the neighbourhood.” When Nancy doesn’t say anything, I continue. “I don’t remember when I noticed, but once I did, it’s hard not to. Even at school, I can count how many black people are there and majority are on the basketball team. Did you know that?” Nancy shakes her head. “I am the only black person in our classes, at dance. No matter where I go or what I do, who I am. I will always be the black one. Even in our friendship. That’s what I mean by outsider.” 

 “My mom and dad don’t talk about our blackness and I’m left to figure it out on my own. I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. That’s what I mean when I said we don’t have difficult conversations. We just keep our heads down and conform, but sometimes I don’t want to conform. Sometimes…” I sigh feeling exhausted. Mentally. “Sometimes, I want to ask those questions but then I’ll feel like I’m not…” 

“The perfect daughter.” Nancy finishes. 

“Yeah.” I twirl the mallet in my hand. There’s so much to say but this conversation is exhausting enough. Nancy looks at the ground, kicking a rock. 

“I-I don’t know what to say…” she says lowly. “I’m sorry for not paying attention.” 

“You know now and that’s the first step.” 

“Of course, but please don’t be afraid to tell me these things. You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to feel like an outsider when you’re with me. What you said is something I need to know in order to change.” 

I nod my head and Nancy visibly relaxes, reaching to squeeze my hand. I rest my head on her shoulder feeling more relaxed than I did before the beginning of the conversation. It’s a conversation that could’ve easily gone south and I wouldn’t be prepared to handle it, especially after what happened hours before. Darkness quickly engulfs the sky and I am instantly aware of all the sounds in the forest. The wind slipping through leaves, the cracking undergrowth with each step Nancy and I make, the bugs crawling on trees. We all take out our flashlights to see and I notice Jonathan slows down to remain close, though still keeping his distance. I jerk at every unfamiliar sound making Nancy laugh again. 

“Do you remember Mei Wong?” I mutter, swatting away a fly.

“Yes. She auditioned for Juilliard!” 

“Well on Sunday at rehearsals, she told me…” I swallow to soothe the dryness in my throat. “She told me I should think about auditioning for Juilliard.” 

“Really? Wow!” 

I scrunch my nose. “I know.” 

“You definitely should. I meant what I said at Steve’s house. You’re such a beautiful dancer and you’re gonna go pro. I feel it.” I shake my head. Somehow Nancy sees it. 

“You are. I need you to be more confident in yourself.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…what if I audition and I don’t get in—”

“We’re only in 10th grade, you have time to worry about the auditions.” Nancy assures me.  “Maybe Juilliard has a summer intensive you can take beforehand to give you an extra boost.” 

“My dad will never allow that.” 

“Have you talked to your mom about it?” 

I shake my head. “Not yet.” 

“I say after all this is done and we find Barb, we will both help you research and come up with a plan for you to go to Juilliard. Because you’re going to Juilliard.” 

We find Barb. That’s the most important thing. It’s why we’re here now. The sound of her laughter echoed through my mind. The last time I saw her; felt her at Steve’s house. I don’t want to believe that was the last time I saw her. I shiver, crossing my arms above my chest. It’s so cold I can barely feel my ears and nose. Jonathan keeps pace with Nancy and I. There is still tension between the three of us, but now is not the time to dwell on it, not when we were outside in the forest on our own looking for God knows what. At random, Nancy slows down looking back and forth, her expression tight with strain. I keep myself composed despite the fact my heart is racing. Did she see something? Hear anything? Was it here? I tighten my grip on the mallet, my eyes darting from tree to tree. 

“What are you tired?” Jonathan asks. 

“Shut up.” Nancy hisses, looking around. “I heard something.” 

I follow closely beside Jonathan as we follow Nancy through the forest. I don’t know what we’re looking for or what she’s heard until I hear something faint…a whining sound. I gasp at the sight of a deer whimpering in front of underbrush. We all rush to the deer dropping to our knees. My stomach is in knots at the blood dampening its fawn-coloured coat. It looked like it’s been punctured multiple times. It’s ragged breathing and slow movements indicated it was in pain and about to die. I’ve never seen a deer this close before and I’m sad it has to be like this. Images of Bambi flash through my mind and I cover my mouth muffling my sobs.   

“Oh, God. It’s been hit by a car.” Nancy whimpers, tears brimming her eyes. She looks at the gun in her hand and holds it up. “We can’t just leave it.” 

“Wait!” I exclaim, grabbing her arm. “There must be something else we can do!” 

“It’s in too much pain. We have to.” 

“I’ll do it.” Jonathan says, taking the gun. Nancy and I look at him with wide eyes. “I’m not nine anymore.” Jonathan assures us. 

I stagger up on my feet grabbing Nancy’s hand. Jonathan points the gun at the deer. Time slows down and I feel like the forest is closing in on me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up just as Jonathan is about to pull the trigger when suddenly, the deer disappears into the underbrush. I jump back startled, mouth opening in a silent scream. 

“What was that? What was that?” Nancy shouts. 

I wring my hands jumping up and down. “Oh, my god. Oh my, god. I can’t. I can’t.” Panic shoots up my spine and I hold my chest struggling to catch my breath.

“There’s so much blood.” 

“Where did it go?” 

“I don’t know.” 

I quickly pick up the flashlight and mallet I dropped in my state of panic. My skin tingles and I shake my head trying to focus, aiming the light on the ground. Blood smears all over leaves and twigs. I proceed around with caution, shining my light on anything and everything in the forest, being cautious of not stepping on any gore. From the far distance I notice something dripping from a hollow tree stump. It looked like…sap. No, it’s too thick for it to be sap. I am vigilant taking calculated steps and kneel in front of the tree inspecting the foliage. It looked like the tree was creating mucus. Thick, slimy, runny mucus. There was no smell to it, but it was weird. I paid attention in biology last semester to know that this wasn’t right.

“Nancy.” I whisper. “This tree…there’s weird stuff falling.” 

Nancy joins me on my knees shining her light. She touches the tree stump, looking up. “Jonathan?” she shouts, looking around. I search as well thinking he was with us, but he’s nowhere to be seen. It would be unwise to leave Nancy here alone to look for him. We were better sticking together. When I turn back however, Nancy is taking off her backpack placing it beside her bat. My eyes widen. “You’re not seriously going in there!” 

“Watch my stuff.” 

“Are you crazy?” I snap. 

That mucus could be toxic or worse. There was no need to go inside the clearly rotting tree. Nancy ignores me crawling inside. I am lost for words because not only can she fit inside; her body completely disappears as if there was an opening on the other side. I blink, shaking my head, feeling disembodied. 

“Nancy?”

Adrenaline bursts through my veins to prepare myself to fight or flee. I feel like I am back in Steve’s backyard keeping watch while Nancy does something completely foolish like walk into the forest on her own or like now, crawling into a slime coated hollow stump. I curse colourful words under my breath that would shock my Dad. I can’t leave her alone. So, I take off my backpack and put the mallet on top; count down from five in my head and crawl through the hole holding my breath hopefully awaiting Nancy on the other side. 

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

Offfff that tree always gave me the ick.

Such a good convo and inner monologue from Diana. I can definitely relate a bit I grew up in south going to a mostly white school.

I could count the number of black kids on my hands but it helped that we all grew up together pre-k to 8th grade. And my family had those conversations with us

I need to find that Lucas story

Late Night Mends

Pairing: Kid (Monkey Man) x reader

Word count: 2.1K

Warning: 18+ MDNI, mentions of anxiety, injuries, not a lot of spice, some fluff, not proof/beta read lol, does not contain spoilers for Monkey Man.

Dev Patel as Kid / Bobby / Monkey Man MONKEY MAN (2024) dir. Dev Patel

ANNE HATHAWAY as Maggie Murdock in LOVE & OTHER DRUGS 2010 — dir. Edward Zwick

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT THE CRAZIES, 2010

👃😌😳😒🙄

Members of the Owls, a black women’s softball team in the 1930s

Closing the Distance

Sheriff Hassan x Reader

Author's Note: I'm sorry its bad. I'm sorry this is the first I've written in this fandom. Just sorry all 'round.

Summary: Devastating news brings Sheriff Hassan and his neighbor closer together.

Warnings: Mentions of terminal illness, grief and death, brief mentions of SMUT

Crockett is small. Small enough for someone to walk from one end to the next in less than a day, small everyone to know each other by name, small enough for gossip to spread faster wildfire. It's part of why Hassan keeps his head down and his nose out of everyone’s business; small towns are close knit, they stick together, and he's already an outcast. So unless someone is explicitly breaking the law or being a public nuisance, Hassan keeps his distance. 

Even if it's hard sometimes. Even if his cute neighbor brings over dinner for him and Ali when she cooks extra or waves at him when he's getting into his car in the morning while she's having coffee on the porch. Even if he does find himself wanting to prolong their conversation when he bumps into her while picking up groceries. Hassan keeps his distance, because even if Y/n has only lived on the island for a year longer than he has, she is not an outcast.

From the bits and pieces he's been able to pick up, Y/n’s mother grew up there and then their family spent most of her summers as a child on the island. In the same quaint house across the street from his, with weather beaten porch steps, a white French door guarded by thin yellow curtains and a kitchen window that faces the street. She moved there just after her grandmother passed and her grandfather fell ill. Everyone knows her, everyone likes her, not that he can blame them – even Bev likes her, though he doubts the feeling is mutual. And that's why Hassan keeps his distance; even Y/n isn't one of them, she's one of theirs. 

So he keeps his distance.

Until he gets home from work one Friday evening just in time to see Y/n walking Sarah to her car. Before she gets in, they spend another couple minutes talking and while he doesn't want to sit in his car and stare, there's something about the dimness in her expression and the invisible weight pressing her shoulders into a solemn, downward curve that holds him there. Hassan can't recall ever seeing her like that – tired, sure, it would be impossible to be a caregiver and not feel the strain of it. But this evening is different, it's more than tired. He recognizes that look; that was how he looked when his wife reached her end. 

Brittany Murphy as Molly Gunn in UPTOWN GIRLS (2003) dir. Boaz Yakin

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

Might I add:

The defeat of the wizard who made people choose how they’d be to be executed

The woman who raised the changeling alongside her biological child

The human who died of radiation poisoning after repairing the spaceship

The adventures of a space roomba

Cinderella finding Araura (and falling in love)

I don’t know a snappy description but the my nemesis cynthia story certainly lives in my head

hilariously, these are almost all in my fic tag. so, a compiled list from the notes (and some extras):

I am in love with you /p

What about the one with the princess locked in a tower learning to become a wizard? That’s lived in my mind for years and I haven’t seen it in a long time

Oh, love that story, adding it to the list: 20. Princess Talia and adding a few more contenders 21. Thyme 22. The Monster under the Bed 23. A Meaningful Death 24. Humans are unstoppable…until they aren’t 25. The Monster under the Fridge 26. Antler Guy 27. Cleric slamming healing spells

Adding a few more I remembered:  28. The Frog and the Scorpion 29. HSTHETE 30. The First Witch in the World 31. Imagine that Oceans were replaced by Forests  32. A Faerie taking a Name  33. The Dragon on the Farm  34. Synovus & Menace  35. Raising the Anti-Christ  36. Aliens vs. Flora & Fauna of Earth (pretty sure there are even more additions to the original post but I had this one saved)  37. Doctors without Borders…in Space!  38. The Villain-Wrangler  39. The Last Contact  40. The 100 Parent-Point Children  41. And the Heavens Wept  42. The Night Gentleman  43. The Serpent God and their Priestess 

44. No One Showed Up for the Last Storytime

Wow! @writing-prompt-s contributing to like half of these!

I can hardly take any credit for these stories! But I love sharing them. Unfortunately I cannot read all the prompt responses so please tag me if you want me to reblog a story that resonated with you so I can give it a little boost :)

get to know me meme: favorite movies [2/5] ↳ DIRTY DANCING (1987)