''Fuck it, I'll stab him,,

Molly 🦫 They/She 🦫 20 🦫 SFW ONLY 🦫 I only write for my OCs 🦫 Did yall know there was a beaver emoji that's fuckin sick 🦫 Prompt suggestions always welcome 🦫 OC blog: @fuckitocs

[blogofawimpykid]

Sit Still

The Dark Knight

Joker X RC

Non- Canon: RC helps The Joker prepare for a night Out

550 Words

A/N: If you're here from Tik Tok, hi, welcome, thanks for coming. I'd appreciate if you'd follow me if you liked this, because I have a full length Batman series in the works featuring tons more of this dynamic. I also write for over 200 other OCs of mine, so chances are if you liked this you'll like something else I have to offer.

The Joker and RC sat in relative silence at the vanity, as J painted on his makeup and RC played with his hair. The shit he used on his face never dried right, and his hair always got stick in it the second he started moving around. It reminded RC of the heavy lip gloss days of the early 2000s, where the slightest gust of air would leave you with an entire extension glued to your lips. That was why she was in the middle of an experiment, to find a decent way to keep Js hair out of his face that didn't involve scrunchies or butterfly clips. (They would both rather die than be forced to admit to this information, but The Joker had no opposition to either of these things in the privacy of RCs apartment.)

"Okay, I think I've got something," RC said, breaking the heavy silence.

"Finally," J mumbled.

"That means you need to keep your head still." He shrugged, but it was impossible not to notice his immediate attempt at lessening his movements. RC started to pull the front pieces of his hair into a small braid, that wrapped around his head and wove in more strands of his hair as it went. It would be small enough to go unnoticed, unless you knew you were looking for it, and even it was seen, it could be completely blamed on The Jokers flair for the dramatic, rather than a girlfriend at home who was tired of washing dried paint out of his hair almost every night.

"Stop moving," RC hissed, as J leaned forward, taking the braid she was nearly done with with him. "I have to start over now."

"Sorry," J said, and meant it. He sat back and started smearing lipstick- red face paint onto his mouth, turning his head to reach his scars. His thin hair slid right of RCs hands agains.

"J," she groaned. Instead of waiting for him to sit back again, she reached around his neck and grabbed his chin, forcing him to turn his head back towards her. "Sit fucking still," she said again, than calmly returned to fixing his hair.

"Yes ma'am," he responded sarcastically. He hated being told what to do, and he especially hated when other people put their hands on him. RC proved to be the exception, to this and many more of his personal rules. He watched her in the mirror, seeming so content to be playing mass- murderer beauty salon in the bedroom of her shitty, crime alley apartment. "Do you want to come with me tonight?"

"Not tonight. I have homework."

"Homework," J scoffed. RC tied off his braid and playfully pushed his head forward again.

"You could stay home and help me with it," she joked, going to sit on her bed while The Joker finished his makeup uninterrupted.

"Do you need someone to experiment on?"

"It's about basic art skills. It would help me break it down if I could actually teach somebody."

"Just pretend I'm here." RC rolled her eyes. "Maybe when I get back," J relented.

"Is your hair okay?" J dropped his face paints and turned his head from side to side, examining himself in the mirror.

"It's perfect."

[blogofawimpykid]

Guitar Guy

Oz X Blue

Canon: Blue finally runs into the hot guitar player from The Bronze

500 Words

"That is one tense person," guitar guy muttered to no one in particular, rubbing his neck where Buffy had practically strangled him.

"Yeah, she is," Blue said quickly. "I'm really sorry for my sister."

"That's your sister?" Guitar guy asked. Blue nodded. "Sheesh. What's her deal?"

"There's this..." Blue hesitated, trying to come up with a lie on the spot. "She has this ex boyfriend. He's a total creep."

"Oh. He's got her that freaked out?"

"... yeah. He's got this stalker thing going on, and he made some threats so now we're all kind of on edge."

"Oh. I'm sorry about that." Blue shrugged. A stalker boyfriend would be heaven to deal with compared to this. Guitar guy looked around for a second before asking, "Your name wouldn't happen to be Blue, would it? Blue Summers?"

"Yeah... why?"

"Your friend Willow mentioned you. She said you saw me at the dance and you'd been asking around about me?"

"Well, not asking around exactly..." Blue averted her gaze.

"I'm Oz." Guitar guy held out his hand. Blue took it and shook once, like a normal person, and as she pulled back she could swear she felt a small squeeze.

"Hi. Nice to meet you. Finally."

"Yeah. You too. Not finally, since I didn't really know you existed."

"Yeah." Blue laughed. "How do you know Willow?" She suddenly realized she was blocking the flow of traffic in the hallway, and shifted to the side, leaning her shoulder against the wall. Oz followed her lead, planting his elbow against the painted cinder blocks and letting his hand hang down, fingers brushing against the top of his head like all wannabe-cool-guys do in movies.

"Oh, we met in our career week... meeting."

"I thought Willow was never assigned one."

"Oh, it's some super top secret thing, very need to know. Only a couple people were picked, you know."

"Oh, sure." Blue nodded, humoring him.

"What about you? What was your destiny?" Oz waved his fingers around, making fake spooky noises to imitate a fortune teller and crystal ball. Blue shrugged.

"Actor."

"You like acting?"

"No," Blue said, unable to hold back a laugh. "I've never done a play or anything. I like action. Adventure. Fighting."

"Maybe you could be a racecar driver," Oz suggested.

"Hm. Interesting. Maybe once I get my license."

"No license?"

"Not yet. My sister doesn't have hers and it's kind of a competitive thing. I thought I'd let her win this one."

"Are you guys twins?"

"No. We get that a lot. I'm 11 months younger.

"11 months," Oz repeated. Blue nodded. They get that alot, too.

"Well, I should actually go look for her. We're supposed to be in the library right now."

"Yeah. Sure. Go." Oz waved her off, pretending to be cool again.

"It was nice to meet you," Blue said, as she began to back away. "And I'm sorry again about Buffy!"

"Don't worry about it," Oz called down the hallway after her, but she had already disappeared.

[blogofawimpykid]

The Ice Cream Fic

Jeff X Megan

Canon: Jeff meets Megan's roommates. Megan meets Jeff's wife.

1500 Words

"Megan, hi!" My head snapped up, first towards the guy behind the counter, than towards the actual source of the voice. Jeff, standing in line for ice cream, with his wife and daughter next to him. Fuck.

"Hi," I said brightly, trying to act natural. I'd never met his family before. Part of me hoped I would never have to.

"Who's that?" Reese, my roommates best friend, asked. She had never met Jeff.

"My boss."

"Her boyfriend."

I glared at Jaclyn as we both spoke at once.

"Shut up," I demanded, quickly looking up in Jeff's direction, terrified he would hear us. His wife was looking at the menu board, his daughter was on her phone, and he was staring right at me. His expression was neutral, and he waved good-naturedly when the small group I was with all seemed to look towards him at once.

"You have a crush on your boss?" Reese asked, talking over her shoulder as we joined the back of the line.

"No," I snapped, a little too angrily. Reese and Jaclyn both turned to raise their eyebrows at me. "Sorry. I think that's his wife with him so I don't want her to think anything."

"Oh," Reese said, dropping the topic immediately.

"Why would his wife-" Jaclyn asked, voice low so Reese wouldn't hear.

"I don't know," I said sincerely. She was the only one who knew the truth about me and Jeff. I tried to busy myself by looking at the wall of candy to the back of the ice cream shop, keeping my whole body angled away from Jeff's family, as the line moved slowly forward.

"Megan," Jeff said, and I tensed up, feeling him practically breathing down my neck. I turned, almost comically slowly, and saw him waiting by the cash register with his wife while his daughter ordered. "This is my wife, Shauna. Shauna, this is Megan." Shauna smiled sincerely at me between bites of her ice cream.

"It's so nice to finally meet you. Jeff has talked so much about you."

"He has?"

"Of course. You're his new favorite employee."

"Oh." I finally made eye contact with Jeff, who's face betrayed no emotions other than those of a man getting ice cream with his family.

"So what are you guys doing here?" Jeff asked, gesturing between me and Jaclyn, who apparently hadn't noticed us talking right behind her.

"Oh, we come here like every day," I explained. I grabbed Jaclyns arm, turning her around to face Jeff. "Jaclyn has a crush on that guy." I pointed to the boy behind the counter.

"Oh, yeah?" Jeff asked, laughing in the way that most dad's do when they hear about a teenage girls crush.

"No," Jaclyn defended immediately. "I think he has a crush on me. So we're testing the theory."

"Oh, right. Jaclyn's a psych major, so this is scientific research."

"Really?" Jeff crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows at us. By this point, Reese realized that there was a conversation happening that she wasn't a part of, and she also turned around to join us.

"Jeff, this is Jaclyn's best friend, Reese," I said, gesturing. I look between her and Jeff, than back at Shauna, who was smiling politely. "Oh, this is my roommate, Jaclyn." Shauna waved at both the girls.

"How do you know Jeff, Jaclyn? It seems like you two have met before." Jaclyn glanced sideways at me, panicked but trying to hide it for my sake.

"We met when I delivered Megan's chair," Jeff explained.

"Oh, I forgot about that." The line started to move up, pushing Jaclyn, Reese, and I further from Jeff and Shauna.

"Do you want to eat these here?" Jeff asked Shauna, gesturing towards the couple of picnic tables just outside the shop.

"Sure. I'll go get us a seat, you wait with Callie." Jeff turned his back on us when Shauna left, and I felt a bit of weight lift off my shoulders. I knew that Jaclyn and I were going to have to tell Reese the truth when we get back to our dorm, but at least Shauna didn't suspect anything, as far as I could tell. As Jeff and Callie started towards the door, I could hear her ask him,

"Who were you and mom talking to?"

"Megan, the new employee at the store." I didn't look in Jeff's direction to see if he was looking back at me. Reese glanced back and forth between Jaclyn and me as we ordered, obviously sensing that there's something we weren't telling her. Leaving the store, we had to pass by Jeff's table to get to Jaclyn's car. I crossed my fingers under my ice cream bowl, hoping he wouldn't stop us. "Hey, Megan, I didn't get to introduce you to Callie."

"Hey," Callie said noncommittally, hardly looking up from her ice cream as the three of us lingered awkwardly around the table.

"And these are Megan's friends, Jaclyn and Reese." Callie finally looked us over, in the squinty-eyed, judgmental way that all high schoolers do, and Jaclyn and Reese, who were both, technically, still teenagers, regarded her in the same way.

"I like your shirt."

"Oh, mine?" Callie nodded. "Thanks. Are you a Def Leppard fan?"

"No. Just like the shirts."

"That's fair. They have really cool merch. I got this shirt from their concert."

"You went to a Def Leppard concert?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah. For, like, my 16th birthday, I think."

"Aren't they from the 70s?" Callie asked, incredulous.

"Pretty much. They still tour, though. I saw them with Journey."

"I love Journey!" Shauna gasped. "Not quite 70s," she corrected Callie, "but they were popular when i was your age. I didn't know they were still touring."

"Well, that was a few years ago."

"Right, Jeff mentioned you're a little older than the other freshmen." I nodded slowly, making eye contact with Jeff for a moment and briefly raising my eyebrows. Why had he mentioned that? "What are you majoring in, again?"

"Theater." Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Callie smirk, in the way people usually did when they heard the phrase 'theater major.'

"You know, Callie, you should get in touch with these girls. Ask them questions about college. You're a senior, you need to start thinking of these things."

"Mom," Callie groaned.

"You should totally come by the store sometime while I'm working," I offered, hoping to take some of the awkward pressure of Callie. "You obviously have good taste."

"That's a good idea too," Shauna said, looking pointedly at Callie.

"Yeah, maybe," Callie mumbled, shrugging.

"Do you guys come here a lot?" I asked, gesturing to the building behind us. I hoped the answer was no, or else Jaclyn would have to find a new crush.

"I don't think I've ever been here," Shauna said. "Jeff wanted to come."

"It's school spirit night,” Jeff explained, pointing to the sign on the door announcing just that. “I wanted to come by and support and support the alma mater.” I almost choked on my cake batter ice cream.

“You went to-“

“Yep.” Jeff nodded proudly. I wanted to die.

“You didn’t know that?” Shauna asked, seemingly surprised.

“Nope. He never told me.” There seemed to be lots of things Jeff had never told me, such as the fact that he and his wife were VERY MUCH NOT SEPARATED.

“Jeff! I can’t believe you never mentioned that,” Shauna scolded.

“I don’t know how I didn’t,” he responded, sounding almost apologetic. He looked up at me… regretfully? This whole situation was confusing me.

“You girls probably have a lot of homework to do,” Shauna said, changing the subject. “Don’t let us keep you here.”

“Oh, we d-,” Reese began, but I quickly cut her off.

“Yeah.” I tried to sound sad, like I wanted to stay and talk all night with the wife of the man I was currently sleeping with. “It was nice to finally meet you.”

“You too. Girls, it was nice meeting you.” Jaclyn and Reese both nodded, mumbling pleasantries.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jeff said, as we started to walk away. I raised an eyebrow, before I realized he was talking about work. Right.

“Yeah. See ya. Bye, Callie.” Callie waved absently, looking at her phone.

Jaclyn, Reese, and I ran across the street, narrowly avoiding being hit by a mustang with half the bumper missing, and practically threw ourselves into Jaclyns car. I exhaled loudly.

“What the fuck was that?” Jaclyn asked, looking at me with wide eyes in the rear view mirror.

“I don’t know!”

“Yeah, actually what was that?” Reese asked, genuinely confused. She turned sideways in her seat to look between me and Jaclyn.

“… I’m sleeping with him,” I said sheepishly. Jaclyn started the car, some 80’s song immediately blasting through the small vehicle, drowning out

Reese’s shocked response.

[blogofawimpykid]

Brave

Boardwalk Empire

Owen X Rosalie

Canon: Rosalie loses faith in her father, and turns to Owen for help

1000 words

Rosalie prided herself on her bravery. It was something that even Jimmy had commented on before, and that was saying alot for him. Something else Rosalie was very proud of was her father. She had always looked up to him, until tonight. She was not squeamish, she had never had an aversion to blood, or violence, or death, but whatever was growing inside her father tonight was enough to scare her. Eli dropped the bloody wrench onto the concrete garage floor, next to the battered skull of the ex mayor.

"Daddy-" Rosalie squeaked out. Eli snapped his head up, realizing immediately just how badly his actions had effected her. She was cupping the sides of her face, trying to bring herself comfort as tears began to pour down her cheeks. Eli rushed to her, placing his hands over hers, gently forcing her to look at him.

"It's alright, sweetheart. It's alright. Look, you wanna help me fix this?" Rosalie shook her head, and that's how Eli knew he really had fucked up. "Alright. Go wash your hands over there, than run to the house and call Owen. Tell him to take you back... home." Eli hesitated as he said it. It felt strange to him, sending his little girl away, to a bed in another house where he couldn't say goodnight and shut off her light for her. She was nearly 22, yet he couldn't wrap his head around just how grown up she really was. He paced the garage as Rosalie scrubbed her face and hands at the sink. She only looked back at him once more before leaving for the house, and she quickly glanced away, down to the work table where her leather- bound journal layed, stained with stray blood droplets. Eli followed her gaze, and handed the journal over to her, so she didn't have to pass the body on the floor to retrieve it. "I can get you a new one," he muttered. Rosalie didn't respond. He didn't need her to. He still stood in the doorway, watching her cross the yard to the side kitchen door. Most of the lights in the house were off by now, all the younger children were getting ready for the bed, but the single lamp in the kitchen illuminated Rosalies silhouette as she called Owen, her uncles new driver. His voice was light as he answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Owen, it's Rosalie." She tried to choke back her tears, not wanting Owen to be afraid. He would've known something was wrong.

"Hello there. What are you doing, calling me at this hour?"

"I... decided I want to go back to the Ritz. I can't sleep with all the children running around, and it's too late to walk. Could you come get me?"

"Of course. But your uncle's having his party now, you know. Probably won't be getting much sleep there either."

"Shit," Rosalie whispered. She had forgotten that part. "That's alright. We can just go to his house instead. There's extra beds and Margaret won't mind. I suspect you won't mind seeing Katie either, if she's still up."

"Watch it, now. I'll be there to get you shortly."

"Thanks, Owen."

Owen didn't start the car right away, because as soon as he reached for the start button, Rosalie began sobbing. Owen sat back, staring at her, unsure of what to do. Than she whispered his name, barely audible through her gasps for air, in a pitiful attempt to stop her tears. Owen reached out for her immediately, pulling her against him and holding on like she would fall apart if he wasn't squeezing her together.

"What happened, love?" Rosalie took her time gathering her thoughts before she spoke, telling Owen everything in a hushed voice, as though her father would be able to hear her if she was any louder. When Rosalie came to the end of her story, Owen pressed a kiss to her head, slowly rubbing her arm. "Are you all right?" He mumbled into her hair.

"Fine. I will be. I just don't want to be here."

"Of course you don't. Let's get you to Nuckys." Owen freed Rosalie from his grasp, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and finally starting the car. Rosalie didn't change her position, staying with her head on Owen's shoulder the entire drive.

Owen walked Rosalie to the front door like a proper gentleman, with his hand clasped around hers. She knocked once, softly, conscious of just how late it was, than opened the door and stepped into the entryway. The door should've been locked, but it was possible that Margaret was still expecting Nucky. Rosalie knew better. Owen dropped her hand, sticking his into his coat pocket and waiting pointedly outside the door. Surprisingly, footsteps creaked on the top stairs, and Rosalie looked up to see Margaret, wrapping a robe around herself and glaring down at the front door.

"Rosalie. What are you doing here?" She asked, her voice soft to keep from waking the children. She tip toed the rest of the whole down the stairs.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep at home and the party is still going on-"

"Yes. You're welcome to stay in the guest room, of course."

"Thank you." Margaret nodded. "I think I'm going to stay outside for a bit and get some air. I just wanted to make sure you had room for me."

"Always. Take your time outside, just make sure you're quiet coming to bed so you don't wake the children."

"Of course. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Margaret just now seemed to notice Owen, still lingering behind Rosalie. "Thank you for bringing her, Mr. Sleater. Have a good night." Owen nodded, and Margaret returned to the stairs. Rosalie stepped back outside, closing the front door behind her and leaning against it. Owen leaned next to her, tentatively reaching for her hand again.

"Do you have a cigarette?" Rosalie asked.

"Of course." Owen fumbled in his pockets for a cigarette and a box of matches. He placed the cigarette between his own lips, lit it, and immediately handed it over to Rosalie. Neither one of them spoke, just stood with their backs against the door, hands intertwined. It must've been nearly 1 AM when Owen took the last breath of the cigarette and dropped Rosalies hand. It felt cold without his skin against hers, and she missed the feeling immediately. "You should get some sleep."

"I know." She looked up towards the second floor of the house, at the window of the bedroom where she would be spending the night. She felt extremely lonely. "Would you like to come upstairs with me?"

"Miss Thompson," Owen laughed, examining Rosalies face. He realized as he did so that she was extremely serious. "That seems improper," he added more solemnly.

"I need... someone," she admitted.

"Well..." Owen considered the proposition. "So long as we don't wake the children, is that right?"

[blogofawimpykid]

Flowers

Men in Black

K X GG

Non- Canon: K brings GG a gift

300 words

"Morning, Gianna," K says shyly as he approaches the customs desk.

"Morning," GG mumbles, trying to hide it as she spits her alien made coffee back into the styrofoam cup.

"I brought you something."

"Oh?" K pulls a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and lays them on the desk. GG can't help the smile that floods her face, and the accompanying blush in her cheeks, as she takes the flowers and inspects them. "They're beautiful."

"It's not much," K says immediately. "I just noticed you wear flowers in your hair sometimes. Thought you might like some fresh ones."

"Thank you, K. Seriously, they're so pretty."

"I thought they'd match your eyes," he grumbles, somewhat hoping she can't hear him.

"I love them, really."

"Well, good. I hope nobody gives you much trouble today."

"Thanks." K awkwardly taps his fingers on the desk for a second, than turns to leave.

"Wait, K." He turns back over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Don't drink the coffee today." K laughs as GG tries to inconspicuously slide her cup into the trashcan under her desk. J appears almost as soon as K is out of earshot, leaning against the customs desk and popping his collar with one hand.

"You know those were my idea." GG rolls her eyes and ignores him. "I'm serious. See, because I know what color your eyes are."

"Really?" She asks, raising her eyebrows and closing her eyes.

"Yeah."

"Okay, what color are they?" Even with her eyes shut, she can tell J is looking at the flowers, trying to figure out what color they would compliment.

"... blue?"

"Brown." She opens her eyes, staring at J for effect.

"Alright, I get it. See, I just don't see what you see in him. I mean-"

"J!" K calls from upstairs. J practically jumps out of his suit.

"Coming!" GG laughs as J jogs up the stairs, and she swears K winks at her as he leads J off for a briefing.

Tags: @im-procrastinating-again

[blogofawimpykid]

What’s up bestie I’m sending you anonymous hate. Bitch.

For every ask that you call me a bitch I will post about another Tommy Lee Jones character

[blogofawimpykid]

Don't let the hard work go to waste

Man of the house

Roland X Harper

Canon: Harper helps Roland recover from being stood up

1100 words

"Damn," Barb sighed, checking the time again.

"She's totally not coming," Harper said. Sharpe's date had been scheduled for an hour and a half ago, and Molly, Harper and Barbs English professor, had definitely bailed.

"We should go talk to him. He probably feels bad."

"I'll do it."

"No, we'll both go," Barb insisted.

"You have a paper to write," Harper pointed out. "I'll give him your condolences." Barb reluctantly closed the webcam window on her laptop and searched for her writing program as Harper climbed out of the bed, careful not to wake the rest of the girls sleeping in a pile ontop of the mountain of blankets there. Sharpe was sitting on the couch when Harper made it downstairs, bouquet of flowers tossed dejectedly aside. "Well..." Harper began, coming into the living room and pulling her jacket tightly around her shoulders.

"Well I guess this proves yall wrong. I'm just not cut out for dating-"

"Maybe not. Maybe you two just weren't right for each other. It happens." Harper threw a couple pillows to the ground and sat down on the end of the couch. Roland glared in her direction, but didn't tell her to move.

"Where the rest of the funky bunch?"

"Asleep. They got tired of waiting."

"So why are you still up?"

"Me and Barb wanted to cheer you on. She's working on her paper now. I told her I'd come cheer you up."

"Well, you don't have to do that."

"No. But I want to."

"Why?"

"We're all hurt too, you know," Harper said with a shrug. "We put about as much work into this date as you did."

"Well, I'm sorry for your loss." Roland looked over at Harper, loosening his tie as he did so. "Did yall eat dinner?"

"I'm starving," she admitted, ignoring the question.

"Well, there's a big pot of five alarm chilli in the kitchen that's not gonna eat itself."

"Jalapeños?"

"Lots." Sharpe stood, stopping to throw his tie in the direction of the recliner, where it landed like a snake on top of the wilting bouquet. "C'mon." He stuck out his hand and pulled Harper from the couch. "You should take those flowers up to your room when you go. Not much use for 'em down here."

"Didn't Anne pick some pretty ones?" Harper commented, before realizing that she was essentially making first date small talk.

"She did a great job. Yall all did good helping me out with tonight, and I really appreciate it, and I'm sorry it's going to waste."

"It's not! I'm helping you appreciate all of our hard work. Right now." Sharpe chuckled.

"Do you mind taking us some drinks in there to the table while I fix us some of this chilli?"

"Sure. What do you want?"

"Just one of my  root beers. You want cornbread with this?"

"Absolutely."

"Of course you do." Harper pulled two drinks from the fridge, a bottle of root beer for Roland and her own water bottle, and took them into the dining room. Unbeknownst to her, Barb had gotten bored upstairs, and out of curiosity had opened her web cam back up to check on Harper and Sharpe. She hadn't expected to see Harper lighting the candles set in the middle of the table, holding back her own laughter as she did.

"That bitch," Barb whispered to herself, before suddenly being hit with the realization that she wasn't actually jealous. She had never really liked Sharpe to begin with. In fact she was starting to see him more as a father figure, or a grumpy old uncle. "Nevermond," she whispered, for her own sake.

"Here you go." Sharpe came in from the kitchen and handed Harper her bowl. She sat down and he took the seat across from her. "Why are the candles lit?"

"Appreciating all the girls hard work."

"Alright." They started to eat in silence, and Harper had to resist the urge to scarf down her chilli like a starved child. Ever since Sharpe moved in, she had been eating better than she had in years. He had done more than just keeping her and the other cheerleaders alive; he was literally helping her thrive.

"So why is The Sound of Music your favorite movie?" She asked, when she was about halfway through her bowl.

"Well, why is Titanic your favorite movie?"

"It's romantic. It's historical, it's got Bill Paxton in it."

"Well, that'll do it, I guess," Roland chuckled. "I always loved the romance in Sound of Music. And Julie Andrews." Harper laughed than. "So how's your Romeo and Juliet paper coming?"

They talked for the rest of their meal about movies and books, and the kinds of details in both that Harper didn't get to talk about often. Neither of them knew, but over an hours had passed since they first sat down, when Sharpe finally got up to clear the dishes. Harper stood as well, her own bowl in her hands.

"No, I'll do that. You go on upstairs and get to sleep. Unless you're sleeping down here tonight."

"I think everyone is having a sleepover in Barbs bed, actually. That's probably the warmest place in the house right now."

"Well... come back and grab an extra blanket off the couch if you get chilly." Haroer nodded, and started out of the room. "I had a nice time tonight. Thank you."

"I did too," Harper said sincerely.

"Don't forget about those flowers."

"I won't." Harper went immediately to the living room to get the bouquet before running up the stairs. Barb was waiting for her eagerly, practically bouncing off the bed.

"He likes you!" She whispered sharply, as soon as Harper made it up the stairs.

"What?" Harper whispered back, passing by the opened door to get to her own room.

"Sharpe! He likes you. The camera was still on downstairs, so I listened to you guys while I worked."

"Are you crazy!?" Harper made a u-turn and leaned back into Barbs doorway.

"Harper, listen to me. Yes, he's ancient, prehistoric, even. But he's a gentleman! He listened to you talk and he cooks you good food and he didn't want you to sleep in a freezing cold bedroom. That is more than I can say for any guy that any of the rest of us has ever dated. You need to go downstairs tomorrow and tell that man to take you on a real date once all this is over."

"Wow, Barb, all this homework must be getting to your head."

"Not really. I'm borrowing some of your ideas for the Romeo and Juliet paper, by the way, they're really good." Harper groaned, shuffling down the hall with her flowers clasped tightly in her hand.

Tags: @im-procrastinating-again

[blogofawimpykid]

Bitch

If anyone else ever decides to follow me and sees this I need you to know that

1. This was just to test that my asks were set up right

2. I made a threat about this that I intend to fulfill so I'm sorry for what I'm about to post

[blogofawimpykid]

McLane Auto Parts

The Crew

Jake X Brett

Canon: Brett's homework is interrupted by an interesting customer.

1400 words

Brett was completely dialed into her homework, making sure to double check her definitions as she bobbed her head along to the generic commercial rock music blasting in the shop. She had gotten into her own head lately, convinced herself that her desired career path was leading her rapidly towards a dead end, and she figured the best remedy to that was more time spent at home. Home, to Brett, was 50% the house she grew up in, 50 percent 'the shop', McLane Auto Parts, which was beginning to feel more familiar than the house with every day. There was something about the environment of the place, with the ever- present grinding of tools, always echoing in from the actual shop building behind the parts store, as well as the constant flow of customers she had grown up with, the smell of oil permeating the air, and the head splitting stock music, that lifted a weight off her shoulders. It was a much needed break from the stuffy school environment she had always enveloped herself in.

"Excuse me," someone said politely, from the other side of the counter. Brett hadn't even heard them approach. She dropped her pen onto her notebook and looked up. "I'm Jake Martin." Brett waited for the guy to continue, but he never did. The two waited across from each other for at least a full minute of silence.

"... okay," Brett said eventually.

"I called here earlier. I think. I think it was here. I need to get a part for my truck."

"Did you put something on hold?" She asked, immediately beginning to move her schoolwork aside so she could search for any notes she might have missed.

"No, but I talked to a guy named-"

"Jake Martin?" Brett's dad, Justin, came through the back door, wiping off his perpetually greasy hands with the bandana he always kept in the back pocket of his work pants.

"Yes sir."

"I'm Justin. Nice to meet you."

"You too," Jake said, shaking Justin's outstretched hand. He didn't wipe his hands off on his pants afterwards.

"This is my daughter, Brett."

"Hi," she said, waving awkwardly.

"Brett, Jake's a Nascar driver," her dad said, with an underlying suggestion of 'use your manners and don't screw up this business opportunity for us.'

"Oh, wow. Cool."

"What do you do?" Jake asked Brett.

"I'm in school," she explained, gesturing towards her homework, even though it would've been impossible for Jake to see from where he stood.

"She's going to be a broadcast journalist," bragged Justin proudly. Brett gave him a subtle yet effectively silencing sideways glare. "You wanna come back to the shop and sit for a minute? I'm gonna have to dig for that part you were looking for."

"I'm cool to just wait out here," Jake said, looking between Brett and her dad. "If that's okay."

"Absolutely. I'll be right back." Jake nodded. He stuck his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as he and Brett both watched walk back to the shop.

"Do you know alot about cars?" Jake asked, after another moment of screaming silence.

"Not alot. Just enough to impress know- it- all misogynistic frat bros, really. And also keep myself from being stranded on the side of the road if I get a flat tire." Jake chuckled.

"That's probably more than I know. I just drive the car, I'd never be able to keep it running."

"How long have you been driving?" Brett sat back down on her stool, the cracked, faux leather seat crinkling as she did so.

"Since I was 15," Jake said confidently.

"How long have you been driving professionally?" Brett restated.

"Oh! Since I was 18."

"How long is that?" Jake pulled one of his hands from his pocket, using his fingers to count. Brett was understandably shocked, but at the same time, oddly endeared by the action.

"4 years."

"Weird. I don't recognize your name."

"This is my first year in the big leagues!" Jake bragged. "I'm racing for Bobby Spencer."

"I have no idea who that is," Brett admitted, "but congratulations."

"Thank you!" Brett looked down at the counter, intending to pick back up with her homework, but she could feel Jake's eyes on her. He quickly looked away when she glanced up, than realized he had been caught. "I like your hair," he said softly. Brett's face immediately began to heat up.

"Thanks," she mumbled back, eyes now glued to her textbook. Jake started to whistle along to the music, and Brett sighed deeply. "Do you want to come sit back here for a minute?"

"Sure!" Jake accepted, rounding the counter with the energy of a puppy dog. He plopped down on the stool next to Brett's, and started to laugh when he realized it could spin.

"Be careful," she warned. "The top'll come off if you do that too much."

"Oh." Jake immediately returned to a mostly stationary position, twisting slightly from side to side. Once again, Brett tried to go back to her assignment. "So what are you working on?" Jake asked, leaning towards her to take a look.

"Some stupid filler assignment. Copying definitions from the textbook like a middle schooler."

"What class is it for?"

"Introduction to public relations." Surprised that he seemed so genuinely interested, Brett looked up and locked eyes with Jake, who had been staring at her with what appeared to be some semblance of awe.

"I have no idea what that means, but that's pretty cool." Brett breathed out a laugh. She and Jake both found themselves leaning closer to each other, not breaking eye contact.

"Jake!" Justin called, coming in though the back door. Jake jumped up, scrambling back around to the customers side of the counter. Brett quickly readjusted herself on the stool, glancing back down to her notes. She realized her pen had been open during the entire interaction with Jake, and a puddle of ink was rapidly soaking through the page.

"Shit," she hissed, ripping the page out of the notebook before the ink stain could spread any more.

"Here you are," Justin said to Jake, handing over a car part Brett didn't recognize. Probably special for whatever vehicle Jake was driving. "Want me to go out and put it in for you? Or you could pull around back and I can do it in the shop."

"Oh, no thank you. I'll have the guys at work do it."

"Sure. Yeah. You need anything else?"

"No sir, this should be it. How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it," Justin insisted, physically waving away the idea. "Just make sure you think about us next time you're out this direction."

"Will do," Jake agreed, looking pointedly towards Brett.

"It was great to meet you."

"You too." Before Justin could respond, the phone rang. Brett reached for it, but he stopped her.

"I'll get it. You have a good one, Jake."

"You too." Jake glanced towards the door, than as soon as Justin's back was turned, leaned iver the counter so he was just inches from Brett's face. "Would you want to get a drink sometime?" He asked, quietly enough for Justin not to hear.

"I cant," Brett said, slightly regretfully.

"Oh." Jake seemed taken aback. Then he became embarrassed. "Oh, do you have a boyfriend? I didn't even ask-"

"No," Brett quickly assured. "No. Nothing like that. I'm 19."

"19?" Jake asked, just slightly alarmed.

"20 next week," she said.

"Well, would you want to get dinner, maybe? If you aren't too busy with school? Public relationships sounds important." Brett had to bite back a laugh.

"Intro to public relations," she corrected. "But yeah, I'd like that."

"Cool. Here, I'll give you my number." Jake held out his hand, and Brett quickly passed him her phone. He added himself as a contact, and sent himself a message. "I'll text you."

"... Cool," was all Brett could think to say.

"Well... see ya."

"Bye, Jake." She waved as he left. Behind her, Justin hung up the phone.

"He's a really nice guy," he remarked.

"Is this you acting like you didn't just hear him ask me out?"

Tags: @neptuneswritingwork @tylerrose103

[blogofawimpykid]

Happy Birthday

Time After Time

HG X Dakota

Non- Canon: HG finds a way to make up for Dakotas ruined birthday

600 Words

When he heard keys turning in the door, HG swiftly moved to turn the lights out. Jane had introduced him to the concept of a surpise party, and he was eager to finally make it up to Dakota for ruining her birthday. She was silent as she entered the apartment, which was either a very good or very bad sign. HG perched on the couch and waited for her to enter the living room. She jumped when she flipped the lights on, than giggled.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" She asked.

"Surprise." That's when Dakota noticed the store bought cake in the middle of the coffee table, with her name written across it in purple icing.

"Wh-" She didn't know how to react.

"I know your birthday was ruined. And part of that was my fault. I wanted to apologize for that." As HG struggled to light the candles placed unevenly around the top of the cake, Dakota dropped her things on a chair so she could sit next to HG. "Jane taught me about surpise parties. I hope I've gotten everything right."

"You're missing one thing."

"What's that?"

"Happy Birthday." HG looked confused.

"I've already told you Happy Birthday. Haven't I?"

"It's a song we sing before people blow out their candles. I guess it's from... later. But we sing, and the person closes there eyes and makes a wish before blowing out the candles." HG nodded as Dakota explained. "Normally, the person who's having a birthday doesn't sing, they are sung to. But for the sake of demonstration..." Dakota shrugged, than closed her eyes and began to sing. As she did, HG studied her. He was overwhelmed with feelings for this girl. When she finished the song, she opened her eyes again and caught HG staring. He quickly looked away, towards the cake.

"Do you blow the candles out now?"

"Yeah." She shut her eyes again, made a wish, and leaned towards the cake. There were only 4 candles, and they all flickered out in a single breath.

"You said... you make a wish before you blow out the candles?"

"It's supposed to come true if you blow them all out at once. And if you don't tell anyone what you wished for."

"So I guess I can't ask?"

"No," Dakota said with a smile. HG left to get plates and firks and Dakota cut two slices from the cake. She was surprised to see that it was red Velvet. "Did Jane get this cake?" She asked when HG returned from the kitchen, also carrying two Capri Suns.

"No, I did. Why? Is something wrong with it?"

"No, not at all. It's my favorite flavor, I was wondering how you knew."

"Well, I did ask. I had never heard of a red velvet before. And Jane did help me a bit. She called the store to place the order, I just had to pick it up."

"Wow. I really appreciate all this effort. No one does stuff like this for me. No one has in a really long time." HG pushed aside his plate, which Dakota had just added a slice of cake too.

"I hope... I didn't make you sad."

"Of course not. This is really amazing." Slowly, HG reached out, and rested his hand against Dakotas cheek.

"May I kiss you?" Without answering, Dakota leaned in. When they pulled apart, she grinned.

"I can tell you what I wished for now."

"I thought you weren't supposed to!" HG seemed slightly panicked. "You said it won't come true."

"It just did."

Tags: @neptuneswritingwork

[blogofawimpykid]

Bleeding

Star Wars

Poe X Myllo

Non- Canon: Poe pays a visit to Myllo

375 words

"What happened here?"

"It's his fault," Poe said immediately, pointing at BB-8.

BB-8 beeped indignantly back, Myllo was sure saying something along the lines of 'No, he did it."

"I don't really care who's fault it is," Myllo sighed. "I just need to know why my boyfriend is covered in blood."

"BB-8 made-"

"Poe," Myllo said sternly. "Where are you bleeding from?"

"Leg," he sighed. The couple had been through this before, many times, so Poe knew the drill.

"Pants," Myllo commanded, already pulling out bandages and gauze rolls. "What happened to BB-8?"

"Bent antenna. Should I take these off too?" Poe was smirking suggestively, hand hovering over the waistband of his underwear. Myllo rolled her eyes.

"Is your dick bleeding?"

"No."

"Than no. You can take them off when you leave here though so I can clean the blood off of them when I get back."

"You're too serious about your job," Poe joked, as Myllo took a wet cloth and started cleaning off his injured leg.

"And you aren't? If either of us was less serious about what we do we never would've met." BB- 8 beeped in agreement. "So I'm not going to ask you again what happened."

"I fell. Tripped over BB-8. Accidentally bent his antenna. I'll have to fix it as soon as we get out of here."

"Yeah, that's not exactly my area of expertise. I think you owe someone an apology, though, blaming your clumsiness on him."

"He rolled right under my feet! I was walking-"

"Yes ma'am," he agreed sarcastically, but made no attitude at actually apologizing. BB-8 waited patiently by Myllos legs as she finished patching Poe up. "Have you been busy today?"

"You've been my worst patient," Myllo joked. "You can put your pants back on now."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Than have fun walking across base in your underwear."

"Noted." Myllo squatted to down to give BB-8 some well deserved attention while Poe pulled his pants back on. "Hey, how come I don't get a sticker?" Poe complained as Myllo stuck a glittery star onto the side of BB-8s head.

"Because you get this." She wrapped one of her hands around the back of Poe's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "Be careful."

[blogofawimpykid]

Exam 2

ER

Carter X Olly

Canon: Olly is paged to consult on a special patient

400 words

"Hey, what are you doing down here?" Carol greeted as Olly bounced up to the nurses desk.

"Got paged for an oncology consult."

"Oh, yeah." Carol checked the assignment board. "Yep, exam two."

"Thanks." On her way back to the exam room, Olly passed Doug, who seemed to be in an equally cheerful mood. "What are you eating?" She asked, pointing to the cup in his hand.

"Fries from Doc's. Ila just brought them over. Want one?" Olly picked a fry from the cup and continued to the exam room, where Carter was leaning against the door.

"Hey, Carter. Is this your patient?"

"Uh, yeah. Listen I think maybe we should talk before you go in there."

"Why? How bad is it?"

"Well..." as Carter tried to find a way to approach the situation, Peyton approached from the waiting room.

"What are you doing here?" Olly asked her sister, wiping her mouth with her hand. "Actually, don't answer that. I have a patient, but I'll come see you in just a minute, okay?" Olly pushed open the door to Exam 2 and backed in, eyes locked with Peyton until she was done talking. Than she turned around. Carter and Peyton were both right behind her. "Mom? What are you doing here?"

"She's your patient," Peyton said quietly, squeezing past Olly and Carter to sit on the bed.

"Stage 2 lung cancer," Carter said solemnly, handing Olly the chart he had started on her mother. She couldn't even look at it.

"Mom... why didn't you tell me?" 

"I didn't want to worry you."

"I- it's literally my job to take care of these kinds of things, Mom." Carter placed his hand on Ollys arm and gently took the chart back from her.

"She came in for shortness of breath and fatigue. Thought I would ask what you think I should do."

"Get another doctor," Olly said harshly. "This is a conflict of interest. I can't treat her." She left the exam room, planning on finding somewhere she could clear her head for a bit. She ended up back at the nurses desk, where Doug was talking to Carol.

"Is that your mom in there?" He asked when he noticed her. "I saw her when I walked by." Olly nodded, and the tears started falling as she said,

"She has cancer. And she didn't tell me." Doug immediately pulled Olly into a hug, squeezing her tight enough to block out the rest of the ER.

[darling-i-read-it]

hey if you are a writer who follows me (or sees this lol) and your requests are open you should shout yourself out cause I haven’t requested something in like. a year. and would love to do so lol

[blogofawimpykid]

Steven (Part 2)

Knives Out

Owen

Baby AU: Benoit Blanc meets 2 important members of the Thrombey family.

700 words

Part 1

"Well, I'm very sorry for your loss. And I hate to rub salt in the wound but I must ask-"

"No, it's okay , I get it. I know we haven't exactly been the most helpful by not being around."

"It's out of your control." Blanc hesitates, and in the second of silence the sound of shouting turns both he and Owen's attention towards the living room. "We should go check on that," he says. Owen nods, than scoops Steven up and follows Blanc out into the hallway. In the living room, everyone is staring at Jacob, who is looking only at Ransom as he speaks.

"Ransom? What's this mean?" Linda asks as Jacob finishes whatever, likely, vile, statement he had been making. Ransom ignores her, instead turning to Owen behind him and reaching for the baby. She hands him over, glad to have her hands empty, at least for a minute.

"It means dad finally cut him out of the will," Walt declares.

"What?" Owen asks, looking to Ransom for answers.

"Son," Richard says calmly.

"Father," Ransom mocks. Owen sighs.

"Did Harlan really say he was cutting you out of the will?"

"Yes."

"What?" Owen repeats. Ransom doesn't even turn around.

"He didn't mention you or Stevie, so calm down. You'll be fine."

"I think this might be the best thing that's ever happened to you," Linda says after a beat of silence. Suddenly, Owen feels like she should leave. She had never felt any level of certainty she would be included in Harlans will, but the idea of losing support for her son, who would be completely dependent on her meager salary from the newspaper if anything happened to Ransom, filled her with fear. She grips tightly to the back of Ransoms chair, physically biting her tongue in hopes that her fear didn't show. Ransom makes some snide remarks to his mother, which Owen struggles to hear through the ringing that has suddenly started in her ears. She feels a hand on her arm and turns to see Blanc standing next to her.

"Let's go outside," He whispers, as the argument around them begins to escalate. Owen nods, reaching automatically for Steven.

"Gonna change his diaper," she mutters to Ransom, who isn't even listening. Owen feels if she's watching herself in third person as she follows Blanc out onto the porch, where the cold air hits her in the face like a truck, bringing her back to her senses.

"Are you alright?" The detective asks as he shuts the door, sealing the sounds of family turmoil on the other side of the wall. Owen takes a deep breath.

"I don't want to worry about him," she says.

"If Harlan loved you as much as you say, which I'm sure he did, he won't punish you and that baby for Ransoms wrongdoings."

"You think so?"

"I'm positive." Owen shifts her weight between her legs, suddenly full of nervous energy. "Here." Blanc holds out his hands. "I can hold him, if you'd like. You can take a walk."

"It's okay."

"Owen. Don't let this family get to you. Go clear your head, he'll be safe." Blanc knew the exact words to say to ease Owen's anxieties, and she hands Steven over. "He's a big boy," Blanc says. Owen gives him Stevens plastic tiger, which she had absent-mindedly been turning over in her hand. "How old is he?"

"16 months."

"Oh boy. Can he walk yet?"

"Not yet. He's a little behind, but with nobody trying to teach him at home..."

"Does he talk?"

"A little. Mostly just people's name."

"What does he call Harlan?"

"Grandad. But he can't really get the whole word out yet, so he always called him Gran." Blanc smiles at Steven, who grins back at him, knowing he's being talked about.

"And what does he call you?"

"Mommy."

"Well," Blanc says to Steven, "I'm going to ask you some questions about Grandad while Mommy takes a walk, okay?" Owen laughs.

"You're interrogating my baby?"

"Can't hurt. He was at the party, wasn't he?"

"He was." Owen nods, than hurries down the porch steps, wanting to get out of earshot so she can go scream somewhere.

[blogofawimpykid]

Steven (Part 1)

Knives Out

Owen

Baby AU: Benoit Blanc meets 2 special members of the Thrombey family

1000 words

AU Note: Ransom is a shitty father. I write this AU so much my best friend forgets it isn't canon.

Part 2

Owen was out of the car as soon as it stopped, hurrying to get Steven out of the backseat. Luckily, the barking dogs hadn't disturbed him as they pulled up, and he was still peacefully asleep as Owen unbuckled him.

"Hey babe," she called, trying to get Ransoms attention. He either didn't hear her or ignored her, trying to swat the dogs away. "Babe!" Steven stirred in his carseat and Owen held her breath, but the baby remained asleep. Ransom continued towards the house, probably cursing under his breath, and the dogs trotted happily to Owen's side of the car, where they sat patiently, tails wagging, waiting for her to get the baby out. "Ransom!" She shouted, and he finally turned around. "Can you come help me?"

"Not until those stupid dogs go away!" Owen rolled her eyes and lifted Steven out of the car, getting him settled in her arms. She would have to make a second trip to get his diaper bag and toys, but Martas car was in the driveway, so she wouldn't have to worry about leaving him with Ransom while he was in a mood. Two police officers stepped onto the porch, trying to introduce themselves to Ransom, who pushed past them. One of them followed him inside, the other noticed Owen struggling and jogged towards her.

"Here, let me help you with that." He stepped over the dogs, who were still sitting patiently at Owen's feet. "What do you need?"

"Just those two bags there." Owen pointed and the officer reached for them, audibly grunting as he slung the diaper bag over his shoulder. "Thank you so much," Owen practically sighed, shutting the door and following the officer into the house.

"I'm Trooper Wagner," he said, holding his hand out. Owen shifted the baby in her arms to shake it.

"I'm Owen."

"Where do you want these?" Trooper Wagner asked, gesturing to the bags.

"Oh, just on the floor for now." He pointed to a corner by the door. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll move them later. Thank you so much." Wagner nodded, dropping the bags and exhaling hard as he stood up. "Where's Ransom?" Owen asked nobody in particular as she looked around. Most of the family was in the living room on their phones, completely oblivious to what was happening behind them.

"My baby!" Someone on the stairs gasped. Owen turned around to see Marta coming down the stairs, already reaching for Steven. A man was following her, Owen assumed he was another detective.

"Hey," Owen greeted, getting ready to hand the baby over. "Careful, he's still sleeping," she warned, even though he had slowly begun to wake up as they entered the house.

"Hey, Blanc, you want me to ask this guy anything?" The other officer asked the man who had followed Marta, pointing towards Ransom, who was coming in from the kitchen.

"What the hell is this anyways?" Ransom asked, looking over the three men. He had a package of cookies in his hand, and Owen reached for one. Almost reluctantly, he handed one over.

"Mr. Drysdale-" Ransom scoffed at the man's thick southern accent.

"CSI: KFC?" He said. Owen bit back a laugh. Ransom continued into the living room and the man turned to her.

"Owen Drysdale?"

"Baldassare. We aren't married." She shook the man's hand.

"My apologies. I'd like to speak with you, if you don't mind."

"Oh, I figured."

"I'm Detective Benoit Blanc-" Owen glanced back at Marta, who was whispering in Spanish to a smiling Steven. "Who is this?"

"Steven. Our son."

"Hi there," Blanc said to the baby. Steven giggled, than reached out for Owen. She hesitated to take him. "It's alright if you need to bring him."

"Thanks."

"You two can come with me." Owen once again situated Steven in her arms, than started to grab his bags from the corner.

"I got 'em," Trooper Wagner said, and once again struggled to lift the diaper bag over his shoulder. Detective Blanc led the way to the library and gestured for Owen to sit. She did, settling the baby in her lap. Trooper Wagner sat the bags by her chair.

"Thank you." He nodded, than headed back towards the living room, leaving Owen alone with the detective.

"You know, you're the only person in this family that I've heard say thank you in the two days I've been here." Owen rolled her eyes.

"That's because I'm not really this family... I mean, I am, I guess. But I was raised to not expect everything to be done for me." Blanc nodded, than pointed towards the baby.

"You raising him the same way?"

"Trying to. It's hard, sometimes, with Ransom."

"Is he a good father?"

"Ransom... loves being a dad. But he tends to treat the baby more as just someone to hang out with than someone he needs to take care of."

"So he leaves all that to you?" Blanc guessed.

"Mostly."

"So, I'm sorry I don't have much prior context, Miss Baldassare, because I've learned what I can about the immediately family, but do you work?"

"Yes. I work for the newspaper, actually. I'm an investigate journalist."

"Oddly appropriate," Blanc mused. "And Ransom..."

"He doesn't."

"So you leave the baby with him all day?"

"Definitely not. Most days I work from home, so we're all together all day. If I have to go out I'll usually bring Steven here."

"So Harlan would watch him?"

"Yeah. He loved him. Without Harlan we wouldn't have him, he basically introduced me and Ransom."

"Did he?" Owen nodded. "I did not know that."

"He's named after him. Steven Harley Drysdale. My grandparents all passed away when I was pretty young so Harlan was very much like a grandfather to me."

"And how long did you know him?"

"Six years. I actually found out I was pregnant on his birthday 2 years ago."

"So this all must be very hard for you."

"Yeah." Owen looked down at Steven, who was trying to crawl over the arm of the chair. She sat him back up in her lap than reached into his toy bag for something to keep him entertained.

[blogofawimpykid]

Road Trip

Star Wars

Han X Lanie

Non- Canon: Han can't sleep. He decides to take a 'road' trip.

500 words

Han couldn't sleep. It wasn't because of Chewies snoring, or worry over a bounty on his head. He just couldn't sleep. So instead of laying in bed, continuing to stare up at the ceiling, he decided to take the Falcon out. Maybe a few days off-world was what he needed, somewhere without one of Jabbas goons hunting for him and away from the demands of the rebellion. Han got up, moving quietly around the room so he didn't wake Chewie, even though he slept like a rock. Han hadn't even settled on a destination yet, but he was already in a better mood as he threw some clothes together. He considered waking Chewie to tell him he was leaving, or leaving him a note, but knowing the wookie, he wouldn't remember the conversation in the morning. Han decided it would be easier to just give him a holo- call tomorrow to check in. The base was pretty much silent, and besides Han, the halls were empty. Anyone else still awake was either in the hangar or watching a screen in the control room, tracking the movements of the Empire. Han walked slowly down the hall, because he felt like he was forgetting something, and he thought if he took his time, he would remember what it was before he took off. Just as the hangar came into view, the realization hit him. He was forgetting Lanie. He hadn't even planned to bring her, but it was undeniable. Almost reluctantly, Han followed his feelings and turned back. Luckily, this had also helped Han pick a destination.

The door to Lanies room was cracked, as always, and Han pushed it open the rest of the way and slipped inside. He knelt next to Lanies bed and pushed her hair out of her face, than softly said her name to wake her.

"Hey," he whispered, as Lanie began to wake up and process who was in front of her. "Do you want to go to Batuu with me?" Lanie squinted, probably trying to see her clock, which was blocked by Hans head. "It's early," he said. "But if we leave now we can make it by sunrise. We can spend the whole day than leave at sunrise the next day."

"Wait, go now?"

"Yeah. Come on," Han urged. He stood to the side, giving Lanie room to get out of bed. "You go get ready. I'll pack your clothes." She looked unsure. "You can tell me what you want, I'm not gonna pick for you. Now go." Lanie opened her wardrobe, quickly picked an outfit to travel in, and hurried to the refresher, leaving Han staring at her clothes and trying to find the items that matched the descriptions she called out. When Lanie was dressed, she scrawled out a note for Luke and Leia and stuck it on her door for them to find. Han gave her the bag he had packed, and than, to Lanie's surprise, handed her her stuffed bantha as he shut the door tight behind him.

[blogofawimpykid]

Torture (Part 2)

Star Wars

Han X Lanie

Canon: Lanie is questioned by Darth Vader

700 words

Part 1

"Lanie!"

"Leia?" The girls tried to run to each other, but the stormtroopers holding each of them pulled them back. It was probably a good thing, at least for Lanie. She wouldn't have been able to walk if they weren't holding her up; Imperial torture droids were no joke. Leia managed to catch Lanies arm as they were both shoved roughly into a prison cell, barely holding her upright. "Did Vader not hurt you?" Lanie asked, able to make out through the tears blurring her vision that Leia didn't seem in nearly as bad shape as she did.

"I've been through this before."

"Wh-"

"Lanie!" Han, Chewie, and the remains of C3P0 were already inside the small cell, and Han stumbled off the 'bed' and over to the girls, drawing Lanie into his arms and even giving Leia a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

"Han," Lanie choked out, before she began to sob again.

"What did he do to you?" Han asked, gripping Lanie like a bear trap. "Did he touch you? I'll find him myself, I-"

"I heard you screaming." The desperation in Lanies whisper nearly ripped Han in two. He buried his face in her hair, whispering false promises of safety.

"Are you okay?" Leia asked, sitting down next to Chewie and inspecting 3P0s pieces.

"I'll live," Han said. "You?"

"Yeah. I'll live." It seemed, for the first time, Han and Leia had found something in coming. Protecting the fucking Skywalkers. (It had taken Han ages to get it through his head that Luke and Lanie had different last names, and half the time he still called her Skywalker anyways. She was honestly considering changing it at this point.)

"C'mere, sweetheart. Does it hurt?" Han backed up to the hard slab jutting out of the wall, the closest thing to a bed the cell had to offer, and sat down, pulling Lanie into his lap. She didn't answer his question, just continued to grip onto his jacket like her life depended on it.

"Why are they doing this to us?" Leia asked nobody in particular. Chewie covered her hand with his large paw, showing silent solidarity though he had avoided Vaders torture.

"They want Luke," Lanie whispered, so only Han could hear.

"Why?"

"What is it?" Said Leia.

"She says they want Luke."

"Luke? Why?"

"I don't know," Lanie answered. She finally lifted her face from Hans shirt and settled more comfortably in his lap.

"I guess that's why you got the worst of it," Leia sighed.

'Vader will pay for this,' Chewbacca growled.

"Thanks, Chewie," Lanie said, too tired to get the words out in Wookie herself.

"Does Vader know you two are related?" Han asked. Lanie nodded. "How?"

"... I told him," she admitted.

"You told him? Why would you do that, Lanie?" Han asked, raising his voice.

"It's not like I-" another sob cut off Lanies defense.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean to blame you," Han said immediately, pulling Lanies head back against his shoulder. "It's not your fault."

"I want my bantha," Lanie said quietly. Han immediately looked around for the stuffed animal, which had pretty much never left Lanies side since the moment they had met.

"Where is it?" Han asked, when he realized the creature was nowhere in sight.

"I left it on the Falcon," she admitted.

"Now why did you do that?" Han teased.

"I didn't want to look stupid." Lanie smiled sheepishly and Han kissed her forehead.

"Look stupid? Not surrounded by all of us. I mean, look at us, who's gonna look stupid when they're traveling with a princess, a wookie-" Han skipped over C3P0, "and the most handsome smuggler in the galaxy?" Leia rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, right."

"We're all sharing a jail cell right now because your best friend betrayed us, Han. We all look pretty stupid, no toy Bantha needed." Han shook his head, unable to refute the claim.

"Okay, get off of me," he teased. "You're recovered." Before Lanie could shoot back an equally smart remark, the cell door opened and Lando appeared, flanked by two guards. Han stood, gently pushing Lanie back down onto the bed and stepping in front of her, guarding her. "Lando, what are you doing here?"