#I wanna see him model for his own pregnancy wear line though

[dimmadomeglobal]

Do you think Dale used being pregnant as a marketing tactic?

Excellent question! My answer to that is.... I'm not sure.

I think that if he were to earn more money by using his pregnancy as a marketing tactic, then he definitely would. But would he actually gain more money by using his pregnancy as a marketing tactic? He's Dale Dimmadome, an off putting and out of touch rich guy who says stuff like "eat a lizard" and "tough tiddles kiddles". He's a jerk! No one likes him! Would his image really convince expectant parents to buy his stuff? If Jeff Bezos were pregnant and used his image to sell prenatals, would people actually be inclined to buy it? Cursed imagery, I know, but you get it.

In conclusion, Dale would definitely use his pregnancy to market his products if he could actually gain more money that way. However, he sucks and everyone knows that, so he might not.

[katieelizabeth]

What would you call your body type? Definitely curvy

Are you a morning person? Yes and no. I’m taking sleep meds for nausea so right now waking up is kinda hard. 

Have you ever been to Target? Loveeeeee Target

Do you like iced tea? Iced tea is always my jam

When is the next time you’ll be at work? Hmm it’s kinda up in the air right now. I’m itching to get back tho.

Do you have a savings account? Yes. one for myself, one with my boyfriend

Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? Only once.

What color bedsheets are currently on your bed? Currently grey

Have you ever been to Disney World? If so, how many times have you been? Yes, I wanna say total like 6 times.

Does grammar and capitalization mean anything to you? It absolutely does.

Are you good at wrapping gifts for others? My boyfriend thinks I'm a terrible wrapper hahah

Do you have a dirty clothes hamper in your room? Yes.

What would you say is your favorite television show? If I had to narrow it down, probably Skins. 

Do you enjoy big holiday dinners? Yes and no. I don’t care for holiday dinners with my family but I love holiday dinners with my boyfriends family. 

Is there any piece of jewelry you’re constantly wearing? I’m not married or engaged but I do wear a small silver band on my ring finger.

What is one thing you desire as of now? To be able to just go and sit down in a restaurant. This virus has everyone living in fear and I'm tired of it and want to live normally and enjoy my pregnancy

What kind of phone do you have? An iPhone XR.

If you could move anywhere, where would you choose? Canada or London

Do you blog a lot, if at all? No not really. I used to when Xanga was big.

Is your present hair color, natural? Nope.

What makes you the most angry when it comes to people? My boyfriend thinks that anytime my opinion is different than his, then I'm trying to argue with him. It’s so fucking frustrating. 

Describe your current outfit? Anaheim Ducks shirt and matching pj pants hahah

What was the last thing you ordered online? Some toothbrushes lol

Have you ever felt as though you were drifting apart from a best friend? Ive had two best friends in my life completely shut me out before. It sucks.

What color are your eyes? Poop brown

Have you ever worn color contacts? I have but I could never wear them because of the astigmatisms in both my eyes. Lasik was the best decision of my life

What’s the best thing about a hug? Right now I miss everything about hugs

Biggest fear? Losing my loved ones, death, never getting better/getting worse, never doing anything with my life....

If you have a significant other, how long have you been together? Just celebrated three years

Do you know any genuinely friendly people? Yes.

Do you buy your friends gifts? I try to when I can 

What was the last thing you plugged in? My phone to the charger.

How old are you? 29

What color headphones do you own? They’re black.

Have you ever shopped on Urban Outfitters? No, just a reminder than I'm fat

Where do you buy the majority of your clothing? Amazon, Goodwill

Would you rather wear necklaces or earrings? Necklaces

Do you consider yourself fortunate? Very

Do you enjoy watching fights? Nooo.

Have you ever been in a physical fight? No way

Do you tend to talk badly about people? I try not to but everyone is guilty of that

Where are your parents as of now? Watching tv in the tv room

Does your computer cooperate most of the time? I literally just bought it so yes haha

Does your family have any cheesy traditions? Kind of

When did you last go to a book store? Gosh it’s been a while!

What’s the closest book store where you live? Barnes & Noble.  

How much money do you have on you right now? On hand, $20.

Favorite personal feature? my hair and my lips

Are you wearing make up at the moment? Nope.

Favorite television channel? Bravo, E!, ID, HBO

Describe any piercings or tattoos you might have? 6 tattoos no piercings

Have you ever been fired from a job? INope

Are you currently losing a best friend? No.

Describe the worst day of your life: I’m good.

Do you play any video games? Not at the moment

Would you say you hate anyone? I feel hatred towards racists, homophobics, ect.

Do you think freckles are cute? Very cute!

Last time you went to the mall? Gosh its been a really long time

Name something that’s your favorite color: anything teal

Have you been to Red Lobster before? Yesssss. I want seafood

Do you judge by appearances? Anyone who tells you they don't to some degree is a fucking liar.

Do you follow a certain religion? No thank you

Who is your role model, if you had to choose? Im not really sure

Would you rather have nice hair or lips? Hair.

What are you most self conscious about? Pretty much my whole body

Do you have any family members who live out of town? Yeah.

Do you consider yourself short? Nope, I'm average height for a girl

What room are you in? Mine.

Hoodies or jackets? Hoodies.

Are you outside a lot? No not really. The sun doesn’t like my skin haha

Have you ever been dumped via text message? Nope

Do you like dreamcatchers? Not really

What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? I don’t have one.

Do you hate repetitive people and things? Depends on the situation

Do you think autocorrect is a blessing or curse? BOTH

Do you believe in any particular curses? No.

Ever play a Ouija board? Nope, my mom wouldn't let me growing up

What movie scares you the most? The Exorcist. I can watch the movie now no problem but it FUCKED up my childhood.

What was your bedtime as a child? 9. I remember watching Happy Days from 8-9

Reason why your favorite holiday is your favorite: Who doesn't love Christmastime?

Do you work with any close friends? I work with my baby daddy

Do you consider yourself spoiled? I would say in some way I'm probably spoiled

Do you listen to any country music? yes

Favorite high school teacher: I don’t specifically remember any high school teachers I liked. Probably my French teacher. He was super cool!

Do you ever get drunk? Of course. Can’t drink yet tho until after baby

Have you ever had highlights before? Nope

Favorite number: 7,10

Do you still sleep with any stuffed animals? Not anymore. I used to for a a long time 

 What is your biggest regret in life? Eh I've got a few

Would you say you think you have a mental disorder of some kind? Depression/anxiety. Ive taken meds for it 

Are you normally an independent person? I like to think myself as independent but my boyfriend sure takes care of me. I dunno what id do without him

Do you have any paintings? a few

What is one clothing fad you wish never existed? anything from the early 2000s haha

Do you like to be organized? Do I like it? Yes. Am I organized? NO

Have you ever failed a class before? oh yes

Ever been judged because of your weight? All the time. Not so much as an adult tho

What is your favorite breakfast cereal? The sugary bad ones, ha.

Ever had a wish come true? Nope

Do you regret meeting any of your exes? No way

Do you own any coloring books? Yes haha those adult ones

What’s the meanest thing someone’s called you? I can’t think of anything specific. Probably fat

Have you ever bullied someone? I likely have, unfortunately :(

Do you ever watch Lifetime? Only for the reality shows

Ever tried to intentionally sabotage someone’s grade? God no

Do you own any brown clothing? Hmmm I don’t think so

What color are your walls painted? White.

Last thing you drank: I’m drinking decaf coffee 

Have you ever seen a tornado in person? Noooo.

Do you have an inground pool at your house? Nope

What is the first digit of your phone number?  9

What’s the prettiest town you’ve been to? Anywhere in England

Do you tend to sleep a lot? yes and no. I’m taking sleeping meds but it’s hard for me to fall asleep

Silver or gold jewelry? Silver

Do you sometimes celebrate holidays early? Not usually. My boyfriends family Is out of state tho

Have you ever been in love? Yes.

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received? My unborn child

When was the last time you showered? Last night

Would you consider yourself attractive? Sometimes yes

Has anyone made you mad today? Nope

Favorite smell: Vanilla

Are you afraid of insects? I wouldn't say afraid

Do you have any children? I’ve got one cookin in the oven haha

If so, what are their names? I’ll tell you when I know the gender

Would ever consider having children in the future? MORE children? Lets see how traumatized this first one is haha

Have you ever lived on a farm? No.

Ever played any sports? Oh yes, played soccer till I was 18 

Do both of your parents have jobs? They're both retired from jobs they were at for 40+ years

Where is the best place you’ve been on vacation to? Its a tie between South Africa, London and Colorado

Are you afraid people won’t accept you? Not anymore. Being an adult means getting over that haha

Are you, for the most part, an honest person? I try to be

Did you make prank phone calls as a child? oh yes!

Do you like to make donations? Yeah.

What is your current ringtone? Just the standard apple ringtone

Meet anyone from your past lately? No.

Have you ever called a teen suicide line? No.

Have you ever caught something on fire? Not that I can think of

Ever been obsessed with a show? Ive been obsessed with many shows

What type of perfume or cologne do you use? English Laundry Signature

What’s the last book you read? The book that Ted Bundys girlfriend wrote

Dream career: Zooologist

Have you ever climbed a mountain before? Yes, in Colorado

At what age do you plan to get married? Not sure, we aren't in a rush to marry

Ever been in a car accident? Yes, three

[eerythingisshaka]

Will the Bell Ring?  Pt. 2

Part 1

 (Erik Killmonger x Black!OC)

Word Count: 4.3k

T’Challa has been in town for a few weeks now, no date determined for when he would return to Wakanda, so his time spent in the States mostly meant working at the outreach center, being a liason for international affairs from time to time, and also dating begrudgingly.  It is Erik’s doing to try and get T’Challa out there on the prowl again since Nakia seemed not at all pressed to stand by for him.  

Even though the outreach center in Oakland is an assignment T’Challa bestowed upon her to satiate her need to help others on Wakanda’s behalf, she found a way to not have to stay in one place, as she habitually tended to do.   Instead of doing the grunt work, Nakia would take trips to try and spread the word of their goals to other communities to grow their cause exponentially.

Erik was tired of seeing T’Challa mope and wear himself out physically and emotionally, so one night he got him out of the house.  Pulling up to T’Challa’s place, Erik honks to let him know he has arrived.  

After a few minutes, T’Challa steps out in a brown tunic, pants and sandals trotting to Erik’s car.

“Aye, whoa, hey!  The hell you got on man?”  Erik leans over talking out of the passenger window.  

T’Challa tries the door but it’s locked.  “N’Jadaka, I am in my clothes.  These cost more than your mortgage payments.”  He tries the door again.  “Unlock the door!”

Erik shakes his head.  “Nah, bump that.  You ain’t sittin yo tacky ass in my ride til you change, bruh.  I thought you asked for Shuri’s fashion advice before leaving the house man.”

T’Challa bends down, sticking his hand in to search for the unlock button.  “You are being ridiculous…”

Erik pushes on the window button on his side watching the window roll up as T’Challa quickly brings his arm out on the safe side.

“N’Jadaka!”  T’Challa shouts pounding on the window.

“Aye!  Your genetically enhanced ass better not bust my window cuz I know you good for a replacement.  Change. Your. Clothes.  If you tryna get any play tonight, you better go on back.”

T’Challa spins on his heels back towards his place as Erik pulls out his phone.  Work is still hounding him about a presentation he is to give on a new model for the blackbox recording device in Boeing aircrafts.  It’s in a couple of days and he still has a lot to finish before going in front of all of those white folk to back it.  A text from Kimara pops up on his phone.

Hey, how long are you going to be out for?  

Erik checks the time and texts back.  I dont know.  Shit dont start poppin off tile 12:30 sooo…

Erik, you have your appointment in the morning, remember?

Erik had not remember, thank God for Kimara’s nagging.  Oh babe, of course.  I won’t be out past 2, 3 at the latest.  

I swear if I have to roll your ass out of the bed, so help me.

Chill out!  I’m grown, I can wake myself up just fine.  My six figures speak for themself.

Erik puts the phone down gripping the steering wheel with slight aggravation.  Kimara has been getting extra cranky lately, which was usually a sign of the time of the month, but now it’s just the stress of trying to conceive.  Erik looks back at his phone, seeing that the message was read, but no reply.  Shit, he thought.  That’s not good.   No good night, see you later then, ok love you?  She’s pissed but Erik will make it up to her in the morning.  He could make it up to her when he gets home, but he gotta save that for the doctor’s appointment.

Erik honks his horn again over and over, keeping it pressed for five second intervals.

T’Challa swings his front door open waving at Erik to cease his incessant honking, locking the door behind himself.  Erik looks over the ensemble of choice: black slacks with a white shirt tucked in, olive green military style jacket, some all white Adidas on his feet.

Erik sits up as he unlocks the door for T’Challa to get in.  “Are you done wasting my time?”  

T’Challa looks at Erik.  “What do you mean?  You demanded I change.”

“And I oughta make you change again with them whack Adidas on, but I’ll let it go for time.  I can’t be out all night.”  Erik says pulling out onto the street.

“Why would we go out if you have obligations in the morning.  You didn’t mention that.”

“Well, I kinda forgot about it cuz.  Kimara just reminded me while you were changing.”

“Oh, and how are things between the two of you now?”  T’Challa asks.

Erik sighs, turning a corner.  “We good, definitely.  Just hittin a rough patch right now.  You know we tryna have a baby and shit.”

“Uh-huh.”  T’Challa says, scrolling through his phone.

“So like, we been tryin for a while and that ain’t been easy on her.  She stay thinkin she broken and shit but the pussy ain’t broke, trust.”

T’Challa looks up from his screen.  “You know that...it’s more than that to making a baby, right?”

Erik kisses his teeth.  “Nigga, I know, damn.  I’m just sayin, she ain’t had no issues.  She already had herself checked out, the tubes and utilities is all in workin order.”

“Her uterus?”  T’Challa asks in confusion.

Erik stops hard at a stop sign.  “Can I tell my story the way I wanna tell it?”

T’Challa shakes his head going back to his phone again.  

“Like I was saying, she good!  That ain’t no issue, so she been doing her own research, eating different foods and trying other shit in the bedroom and scheduling shit out to when she most fertile but ain’t a damn thing happened.  She bought pregnancy tests in bulk and shit, like this is all she be thinkin about now.  We can’t just fuck no more, it’s fuckin with a purpose, which ain’t as fun.  So now I gotta go get tested to make sure my hotel is fully booked for vacation, you know what I’m sayin?”

T’Challa turns off his screen letting out a sigh.  “Well that is a lot of information for you to have given me just now.  Great start to the evening.”

Erik kisses his teeth.  “Wooow, ok, I thought family could confide in family, but cool.  I hear you.”

“Erik, that is not the problem, it is your details.  You leave in far too many.” T’Challa says, voice raising in frustration.  “I don’t want this imagery in my head and just out of respect for Kimara, can you minimize the specifics?”

Erik drives in silence for a minute mulling it over.  “Fine, aight.  But that do remind me, I was wondering if you have any Wakandan aphrodisiac type stuff to try and get things kickin off more proper.  I don’t know what the doctor gonna say tomorrow, but I figure I can get ahead now.”

“N’Jadaka, have you...noticed any trouble in that area before?”  T’Challa asks unwillingly.

“Hell no!  I get up, I get down, and ain’t had no complaints, 100% on Yelp baby!”  Erik says cackling and slapping T’Challa’s leg.

“Alright, enough!  To answer your question, sure, there are some remedies that can aid you in that endeavor.  I can’t say how good they are, but they are made from natural ingredients so they won’t harm you, that’s for sure.”

“Bet!  I’ll call you when I’m ready to try the shit.  Now you bein a good cousin!”  Erik cheeses excitedly.

Finally making it to the club, Erik and T’Challa get in without a worry of a line or a cover charge.  T’Challa is the head of the world’s richest country after all.

Heading inside, Cardi B is blasting as the ladies shake their asses to the beat.  Erik can’t help but notice all the big round ass pointing to the sky like shrimp on a platter, and he wanted to chow DOWN.  So maybe he looked every now and then, hell it was practically in his face.

“Damn, it’s hot in here tonight, you see this?”  Erik asks, looking over at T’Challa with his head in his phone.  “Nigga, what the hell you been lookin at this entire time?”

T’Challa puts his phone in his pocket.  “Nothing.  Oh wow, honeys everywhere, so sweet.  Yum.”  His tone is monotone as he makes his way to the bar area with Erik following in confusion.

Erik orders some Ciroc neat so his likelihood of a hangover is diminished.  T’Challa asks for a beer.

“Uh uh, bartender scratch that.  Get him some Crown Royal Black to start off with, neat.”  Erik intervenes.  

“That’s not what I wanted Erik.  I have things to do tomorrow as well.”  T’Challa hissed.

Erik sips on his drink.  “Yeah, and I assume they entail meeting with Nakia, right?”

T’Challa sighs as his drink comes up, twisting the glass in his hand.  “It’s not like I’m groveling for her attention, it’s work related.”

“And that’s the damn problem.  You ain’t gettin a break from her to get your shit back on track.  Okoye told me you be freezin, but nigga you in a Captain America ice brick.”

T’Challa looks at Erik scornfully.  “I am so tired of you all joking about that around me.  I know how to talk to a woman I admire like a normal human being.”

Erik flashes his golds with a sly smile looking across the dancefloor.  “Ok, what about….her, in the yellow.  You like that?”

T’Challa follows Erik’s direction to see a woman with a close cut dancing.  “She reminds me of the Dora too much.  No offense to them but they are like family.”

Erik nods.  “Ok, I got you.  Sooo...her, in the glittery number.”

This woman had locs going past her shoulders with jewelry adorning them.   Her dark colored dress was skintight with glitter scatter across the neck traveling to the sides of her dress in strappy stilettos.

T’Challa nods.  “Maybe.  I can get to know her.”

“Now, hang on.  You wanna know her for longer than tonight?  That’s a whole other system I have to use to map out that possibility.”

“Oh how do you know?  She could be very respectable.”

Erik claps his shoulder.  “Now, not to be extra, but she can be respectable and sleep with you on the first date dawg.   A woman’s worth ain’t based on that alone.”

T’Challa whacks his hand off.  “I told you that!  Don’t use my words against me, you know what I am saying!”

“Then go over there and get to talkin!  I ain’t got all night man!”  Erik says, sipping his drink as T’Challa goes over to her.  Erik observes as they talk: she looks at him up and down, T’Challa offers a handshake which would’ve been a strike until he kissed her hand.  Smooth, muthafucka!  Erik thought.

As Erik polishes off his Ciroc, he orders one more for the road.  While waiting, a woman catches his eye across the way.  She looks like something straight out of a music video; titties sittin up and out, waist snatched with some wide hips that had to lead to a juicy behind if she turned around just a little bit.  She runs her hand down her 3C wig as she bites her oxblood colored lips in the strobe lights.  

Erik has to adjust himself for space in his pants, downing his drink in one gulp.  He looks over at T’Challa, who has the girls arms wrapped around his neck, so things were progressing well.  Erik looks back to the woman who blows a kiss at him in the most sexiest way he has ever seen.  He curses himself as he retreats, heading to the bathroom.  

There wasn’t a line thankfully as he goes to a urinal leaning against the wall.  He tries to clear his mind of the sight of that woman;  Grandma’s, dirty draws, IRS levies, anything to make his half mast dick go down.  It had been too long since he busted; doctor’s orders to make sure they get an accurate sample, but he didn’t expect to be this weak.  Erik has been away from his girl too long for the night, clearly, so once he was able to pee, he made a plan to get the hell out of there.

Coming out of the bathroom he practically runs someone over.

“Oh, there you are.”

Erik looks to see the baddie from across the way.  Her body is almost flush with his since she didn’t take a step back from his almost collision.

“Are you followin me?”  Erik asks suspiciously.

She flashes a 1000 watt smile, dimples and all.  “No!  The girl’s is just always too long to wait….”

They stand in front of each other for entirely too long given the context of the conversation.

“I’m Chanel, by the way.”  She holds her hand out, pastel colored nails sharpened to points with jewels dorning the ring fingernail.

“I’m Erik.”  Erik takes it, growing again subconsciously from the softness and beauty of her hand, imagining it wrapped around his…

“Well, go ahead, that’s free to use.  I’ll be outta your hair.”  Erik says practically tripping past her to pull himself from her magnetic charm.  The evening is wearing him down fast as he tries to find T’Challa.

He finally spots him in between two women jostling for his attention as he smiles all shiny and clearly tipsy.

Erik grabs him by the shoulders.  “Aight, let’s go ‘fore I turn into a pumpkin bruh.”

T’Challa laughs, eyes barely open as he hugs the women to him, putting them on display.  “Iman, Chi, this is my cousin I was talking to you about.  He wants to be a Daddy!”

This sets off laughter between the three as Erik grows impatient.  “Challa, bring yourself on or you’ll have to be beggin for 50 cent a day to take your ass home.”

Iman, the woman Erik pointed out for T’Challa, quiets down from laughing first.  “I’m sorry, Erin is it?  T’Challa has been the life of the party here and we were planning to make a little after party for two later, right?”

She rubs his chest, kissing his neck which makes T’Challa laugh harder.  “I’m ticklish…”

Chi, a high yellow woman who looks like she used to be a flyer on the cheerleading squad wraps her arm through Erik’s.  “And I’m lookin for someone to call Daddy.”  

Erik firmly peels her grip off, avoiding her batting fake eyelashes.  “Girl if you don’t get the fu- T’Challa!  Collect your shit, I’m leavin with or without you man.”

Erik walks through and out the club heading to his car.  T’Challa stumbles not too far behind.

“Heeeeyy, Erik!  I’m supposed to be having fun with women tonight, why are you breaking my balls, man?”  T’Challa says, slurring his words as he whispers something to Iman, making her cackle.  T’Challa must’ve ordered a bottle or two to be acting this lit.

Erik mugs T’Challa as he unlocks his doors.  “Look like you got one, quit while you ahead.  Am I droppin y’all both at the same place?”

“To mine!!”  T’Challa bellows as he clumsily opens the door for his date.  

Erik drives off with T’Challa and Iman in the backseat being playful.  Erik checks his phone as he drives, seeing no sign of Kimara ever texting back.  It’s going on 2 am.  Erik goes to ask T’Challa a question when he looks in his rearview to see him on top of his date, hands completely up her skirt as she claws to take his shirt off.

“Aye, aye!  Y’all ain’t fuckin in my car!  Get up off her, T!”  Erik hits T’Challa as he drives.

“Eh eh!  Stop it, you are doing a lot right now, N’Jadaka.  Calm yourself.”  T’Challa whines as he lays on Iman’s bosom as she muffles her laughter.

Finally making it to T’Challa’s spot, Erik issues a warning.  “Be easy on her T’Challa.  That purple running through your ass could split her in half if you don’t pace yourself.”

T’Challa leans over the front seat putting a finger to his lips.  “Shuuuush, that is my secret no one can know.  Except Nakia, she knew how to….OH!  Don’t forget to call me about helping you impregnate your wife.”

“Congrats on fatherhood!”  Iman waves at Erik as she helps T’Challa out the car.

Erik waves weakly back watching them go inside, handsy and excited to finish what they started.  Erik sighs as he pulls off to his crib, reminiscing on his days or being that wild and free with his sexuality.  Kimara is his one and only now, and he loves every minute of it, but the baddie at the club was sticking to his mind a little too deeply.

When Erik makes it home, he steps into the bedroom to see Kimara lying asleep, facing away from him.  Erik gets undressed and takes a quick shower to freshen up before sliding across the sheets to hug his wife into him.

“Mmm, stop, I’m sleeping.”  Kimara moans, batting his arms away.

“I missed you, girl, that’s all.”  Erik says quietly, kissing her shoulder, hands traveling down her side roughly.

Kimara snaps her head back.  “Erik, I’m serious, get on somewhere.  You missed your opportunity goin out with T’Challa, now you need to rest up any damn way.”  Kimara punches her pillow a couple times before flopping down on it.

Erik kisses his teeth sitting up.  “So you don’t wanna ask me about my night?  How T’Challa is?  Anything about what we did tonight?’

“Erik, I don’t give a fuck about nothin but taking my ass to sleep, so if you would stop talkin I can do that.”

“Shit, I wish you was like this when I get off work…”  Erik says under his breath.

“There’s a lotta things I wish you would do for me Erik, but Imma save your manhood til the doctor got time to see you.  Good fuckin night!”

Erik lays there staring at the ceiling, words completely lost on him to express himself.  Kimara’s attitude in all its glory, and he just had to take it.  Erik is feeling less and less like a man in his own home. Kimara wants so much outta him, he plays it cool but it was starting to affect him.  When that girl looked at him like that in the club, it was a gaze he hadn’t gotten in at least a month from Kimara.  

The next morning, Erik rolls around to an empty bed.  Kimara got an early start to her day, leaving Erik to be responsible for getting to his appointment on time.  He arrived 30 minutes late.

“Erik Stevens!”  The nurse calls out to him in the waiting room to cue his turn to be seen.

The middle age white woman goes over the usual height, weight, blood pressure and asks about his medical history.  Erik is not a fan of doctors, so this took a lot for him to show up to.  But if it was important to Kimara, he’d go through with it.

He was left alone to stare at the white walls with diagrams of scrotums and reproductive facts until the nurse came back with a cup and a clipboard.

“Ok, Mr. Stevens, you will take this into room 3B.  Be very sure you go into 3B, you aren’t our only patient today and we don’t want to make any awkward introductions with the others, ok?”  She says eyes crinkling as she hands him the cup.

Erik looks at the cup curiously.  “You sure this ain’t for horses or somethin?  I’m supposed to fill this?”

The nurse looks at him with amused pity, patting his shoulder.  “No dear, you contribute as much as God intends.  The size just makes for an easier catch.”

Erik mutters a thank you and makes his way over to his ‘donation station’, keeping his eye on 3B.  He still knocks before entering just in case and walks in, closing the door behind him.  The room was simple, an exam bed next to a tub of lube, with an old school TV on a table with a DVD player and some magazines.

Erik hasn’t been into porn since high school, he frankly hasn’t needed it since.  But he was curious what old stuff they kept to get dudes off, so he starts with the DVD titles.  ‘Katie’s Goes to an HBBCU’, ‘Black and Barely Legals’, ‘The Mandingo Report’, ‘Santa’s Big Booty Ho Ho Hos’....

“The fuck?”  Erik says in disgust.  He wonders if every room has this selection or if the B in 3B is for ‘Black’ donors.  

The magazines were just as worse with old Playboys featuring blonde bimbos in between sticky pages.  Erik tossed them and went over to the sink to rinse his hands off.  Nothing in that room was gonna get this done fast so he sat on the edge of the bed and got his phone out.  He has one unread message from Kimara.

Sorry I left so soon.  I had to go to the studio early today to get ahead on some stuff.  Hope you’re doing good!

Erik breathed a sigh of relief as it seems she was past last night for now.  

I’m good, you know how I am about doctors.

She replies back.  Yeah, you think they all microchipping people when they tell you to say ahhh lol

Erik smiles to himself, thankful to have her words running across his screen.   Another message pops up.

Are you done then?  Cuz I was hoping I could meet you for lunch or somethin to talk and stuff.

Erik bites his lip holding the phone in his hands, getting some devilish thoughts in his brain.  

Nah, not yet.  They got pornos here but I ain’t feelin them.

He sends the message and waits a little bit hoping she gets what he’s trying to say.  He saved their best work on his computer at home but he hadn’t backed them up for him to access on his phone yet.  

A few minutes pass and he’s getting anxious picking up the phone again to text an outright request before his phone dings.  The icon of a video message appears and Erik’s dick is already getting hard.  Pressing play he sees her come up on screen smiling with the sun on her face beaming in a halter bikini.  This is a video from their vacation last year to the Bahamas.  They stayed at an Airbnb that was way over budget but worth it.  Kimara giggles talking in a vlog style on the balcony before Erik slips up behind her, hugging her waist and kissing her behind her ear.

“You vloggin baby?  Look at us, we fuckin cute as shit.”  Erik said, speech slurred.

Kimara giggles so hard her eyes close.  “You messin up my shot Erik, dang!  I’m tryna document our trip for later.”

Erik lays on Kimara as she leans over the rail of the patio, gripping her breast greedily.  “You documentin everythin?”

“Mhm.” Kimara nods as she looks at Erik from the camera’s front facing view.   

As the scene progresses Erik takes his pants down and pumps the lube from the side table to start working on himself.  Leaning back on the bed he gets comfortable as he watches his hands travel Kimara’s body, stripping her slowly and her reacting blissfully.  Her moans and foul language keep him focused on his stroke as Erik in the video commandeers the camera to show him entering her from behind.  Erik breathes in sharply as he recalls her tightness around him as he jacks himself faster.  The camera pans to Kimara arching, her braids splayed across her back as she works herself back on him, gripping the rail for dear life.  Her moans become louder and more breathless as she approaches her tipping point, Erik in the doctors office and Erik in the video curse in unison over their shared pleasure.  When the camera shows his dick covered in her creamy secretions he barely had time to grab the cup and collect his sample.  He groaned as he choked his dick to get every spurt he could into it.

“Alright, y’all better show out in them tests.”  He tells his little soldiers as he caps the cup.  

As Erik came down from his high, he calls Kimara with his clean hand.

“Hey, baby.  How are you?”  Kimara asks.  He can hear her smiling as she talks.

“Now you know what the fuck you just did.”  Erik says laughing.

“And I know what you just did!  That’s a favorite, I loved that trip.”

“Shit, you tellin me.  I fuckin miss that island, it just brought out a different energy in us.”

There’s a pause on Kimara’s end.  “It did huh?  Maybe we can plan to go there again soon?  It would be a nice time of the year, I got vacation time to take.”

Erik stuffs his dick back in his pants, sitting up.  “I like that idea.  I got one demand though if we go.”

“Anything.”  Kimara says seductively.

“No talk of tryna get pregnant, kids, babies, fertility windows, none of that.  I still feel like our biggest problem is stressing out about it.  We just need to go on and when it happens, it happens.  The doc said it could take over a year, so I mean I just don’t wanna see you going out of your mind about this.  You need to relax some and just be you again.”

Kimara sighs.  “You can’t plan a trip and think all of our problems are just gonna go like that.  Sweeping things under the rug will just-”

“Problems?  As in plural?  Whatchu talkin bout, Mara?”

“Nothing, I don’t wanna do this over the phone, I gotta go.”  

Erik looks at the call ending on his phone loses any relaxation he just gained a few minutes ago.

Masterlist

Ragtag (let me know if you wanna tag!)

@chaneajoyyy @sarcastic-sunshines @muse-of-mbaku @dameshaemonique  @fonville-designs @destinio1 @bakarisangel

[dcbicki]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Veep (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Amy Brookheimer/Dan Egan Characters: Amy Brookheimer, Dan Egan, Selina Meyer, Gary Walsh, Richard Splett, Ben Cafferty, Kent Davison, Jonah Ryan, Sophie Brookheimer Additional Tags: Suggestive Themes, Rating May Change, Unplanned Pregnancy, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst, Hurt/Comfort Summary:

In which Amy’s pregnant, and Dan already has a plan mapped out for them. -

If she’s in this for the long haul, then he will be, too. If she’s keeping this baby (his baby), then he’s keeping her close by. If she’s ready for this, for change, for restless nights and shitty diapers at two o'clock in the fucking morning, then he’ll join her.

They fucked, and now they’re fucked.

Nothing major.

That’s what the doctor says, and Amy has a hard time believing her.

They hadn’t been waiting long in the emergency room before she got called in and checked over. Dan had explained what happened, carefully kept his hand from grazing her skin - because she kept pulling on her sleeves, because she didn’t look like she wanted him to touch her.

“It’s nothing to worry about?”

Try as he might to deny it, he’d be worried. Or, at least, he’d been experiencing what he assumes is concern. Not that he has much to go off. He’s never really been one for… sympathy or empathy or, you know, worry.

A tightening in his gut, as though something is wrenching his intestines too tight? His heartbeat speeding up, pounding away inside his chest, reminding him that he does in fact possess the organ? The uncontrollable urge to hold her hand, tell her something reassuring, even though he doesn’t do the latter because he can’t? That’s worry, right? That’s concern? Nothing less, nothing more?

That’s concern. Yeah. Obviously. What the fuck else could it be?

“Nothing major?” She sounds almost incredulous, as though some part of her might actually want things to be worse. It’s the tone in her voice that captures Dan’s full attention.

It’s subtle, but he catches it, knows how to unravel each and every layer of her being in a way that escapes her.

“No, just a little spotting.” The doctor folds her hands in her lap, swivels around to face them, “Never anything to worry about, usually. But I do want you to take it easy-”

“Easier.” Dan corrects before she can finish, eyes wide, gaze focused on the top of Amy’s head.

“Right. Yeah. Easier than usual. Maybe try and lighten your workload, if you can? I know I’m probably asking for a lot here, but you need to take better care of your health, Amy.” She practically sanctions with a nod, condescending, “Resting a lot more has never done anyone any harm.”

“So it was, like, what? Stress bleeding?” Amy sighs, puffing out her chest as she lies back down on the uncomfortable bed. The paper sheet rustles and she winds her shoulders back and forth, perched up on her elbows. “The kid can’t chill out for a second, huh?”

“I don’t, uh-” Her doctor stands, wipes her hands down her coat, “Anyway, since you don’t want to know the sex, I won’t just blurt it out.” She looks at Dan then, tilts her head toward the hallway, “You did.”

“Yeah.”

Of course he fucking did. Of course he wanted to know if he was gonna have a mini-me to model after himself, or a mini-Amy to fuck up just as he had her mother.

Leaving the room, he catches the faintest mumble slipping past Amy’s lips, something along the lines of “Narcissistic prick.”

Sure, Amy.

When the door’s closed behind him, he whips his head around to face the doctor, arms folded over her chest, face strict, and he honestly feels like she’s gonna dropkick his ass into next week.

“She needs to fucking rest.”

The hall-side manner on this one-

“I know that.” He frowns, keeps his hand wrapped around the handle because standing in a hospital corridor without Amy is a little unnerving. There’s, like, sick people down the hall, and like-

“It’s good that you know that, but you need to actually help her.” She nods, informing and clear, “You two seem very co-dependant, and that’s great, but it’s also a risk factor. Because she’s relying on you to be there, and you need to support her.”

We were like five minutes away from fucking before we had to rush here, lady. I think that means I’m pretty fuckin’ reliant?

“I bought us a fucking apartment, for fuck’s sake. What, is there some kind of etiquette for expectant parents I’m not aware of?” He slides his free hand in his pocket,  ignores his phone when it vibrates, distracting him.

He’s pretty sure that answering a text or a call right now is gonna go against everything this chick is rambling on about. He has to at least make it look like he gives half a crap.

She sighs, heavier than he thinks she needs to, and then her voice lowers and she glances down the hallway and back to his face, “If she keeps depriving herself of sleep, or if she overexerts herself, it’s not gonna be good for her or the baby.”

“Okay?” He’d shrug, but maybe that’d be a little too douchey- “You can spare me the fuckin’ lecture though, doc. If you think she’s gonna prioritise the kid over her job, you’ve clearly know jack about her. She’s all work. She breathes in responsibility like it’s fuckin’ oxygen, all right?”

“Look, it’s great that you’re involved, and it’s great that you’re meeting all her needs, but you need to remember that she chose you.”

She didn’t though, did she? She didn’t choose me. She got stuck with me. We got tied together by some kind of ridiculously thick, incredibly knotted, tar-soaked tether.

“She chose you, which means you have to be her fucking compass. You have to remind her to sleep. You have to remind her to eat - because, oh, she’s underweight, by the way. Crush those vitamins into her meals if you have to. She needs to be healthy, and stay healthy.”

“She’s not, like… dying though, right?” Because, you know… That’d just be the cherry on top of the sundae that is this last year. Jesus!

“Would she have to be dying for you to pull your head out of your ass?”

Dan grunts, leans his head back against the window of the door, forcing himself to not turn around and stare at Amy through the glass. She’s probably on her phone, texting Selina or Ben, bitching about him.

“No.” He clears his throat, shoots the doctor a look from above, eyes heavy - because, you know, it’s still the middle of the fucking night and they’re still in the hospital - “What if she doesn’t want the kid?”

“What?” Her shoulders lower, and her nose crinkles and Dan’s not blind - she’s actually kind of cute, in a nerdy way. But that’s- “Are you saying she’s trying to harm the baby?”

“What, no! Fuck no.” He shakes his head, chews at his lip for a second, hands shifting along the doorframe, “No, she’s not that batshit. She’s just a little-”

“Neurotic? Shrill?”

“Tense.” He’s never liked it when people say she’s shrill, because she’s not. She’s just- “And because she’s tense, she’s kind of a fuckin’ mess. And because she’s a mess, she’s a little… You know.”

He shrugs now, nonchalant because he’s calm despite his nerves, because he’s mastered the art of feigning calmness when he needs to.

“A little tense.” His brown eyes damn near bulge, and his neck stretches and this fucking doctor looks like she wants to bitch-slap him.

“She’s pregnant with your child.”

“Yeah, and she didn’t wanna be.”

“You both- She made the decision to keep it. If she has questions, or if she needs help taking care of her situation, then she can come see me. But in the meantime, you’re her fucking lifeline. Go and buy her a burger and fries or something.”

“Pizza.”

“What?”

“Pizza. If we’re talking junk food, she prefers pizza.”

“I don’t give a shit.” The doctor shrugs, brushes past him and pushing his hand from the handle.

She’s staring up at him, and Dan realises that he’s stood still with his mouth open, as though he’s on the verge of saying something.

Oh.

He blinks, lifts one shoulder - because he's chill, and he’s calm, obviously - and he raises both brows curiously, the smallest traces of a smirk forming on his lip because, well…

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Christ, that thing again.”

It’s more observation than question, but he shoots her an inquisitive look all the same, because he knows it’ll piss her off - but mainly because he fucking loathes that particular piece of clothing.

It’s just so grey, and so bland, and so blah! and unlike anything else she owns. He doesn’t understand why she owns it, much less chooses to actually wear it. It’s not exactly flattering- 

“What?” Amy shakes her head, keeps her gaze focused on the television screen across the room. “Nobody’s asking you to give a shit.”

She brushes her hair behind her ears, pulls her legs up beneath her on the couch, almost like a child. She tugs the nightgown down her thighs, pulling the material around her knees until her legs are tucked in, warmer.

“You’re not asking me to give a shit but I’m still free to give a shit.” He shrugs, uselessly as she doesn’t pay him any attention.

Noticing her refusal to even look at him, Dan rolls his eyes, swipes his beer from the countertop and makes his way over to her.

They’d bought takeaway and he’d practically have to shove three slices of pizza down her throat. She hadn’t spoken to him at all, and he hadn’t tried to speak to her after one or two failed attempts.

You’re her fucking lifeline.

Her lifeline.

Yeah, because that wasn’t putting a lot of pressure on him. Jesus. Should he just serve up his balls on a platter right now and get it over with?

He questions his decision sometimes; wonders how he ever agreed to this, or rather, how he was the one to suggest this in the first place.

We’ll move in together, and it’ll be easy. We’ll get engaged - fake or real, who really cares? - and it’ll fun. We’ll have a kid, and we’ll be a family.

Maybe he was drunk when he thought this’d be a good idea. Because, really, who’s he kidding? This - being with her all the time, having to spend more time focusing on her and the kid than on himself? It’s fucking insane.

It’ll be easy, and it’ll be fun, and we’ll be a family. Okay. But what if he’s not ready for that? What if he fucks everything up because he jumped in while the sharks were still circling? What if he ruins everything because he’s in deeper than he wanted to be?

What if he ruins her life, and their kid by proxy, because he thought he could take care of something, of someone, he never deserved in the first place?

What if-

“Okay, fine.” He grumbles, pulls at the strings of his sweatpants until they loosen just the slightest. “You wanna play that game?” His brows raise, and he tosses himself down on the sofa, almost smacking into her head with his shoulder.

Amy grunts, shrugs him off when he purposely nudges her leg, knocks into her knee, “What the fuck?” She glares at him out of the corner of her eye, pulls a face when he sips (loud, too loud!) from his bottle. “Fucking hell.”

“What?” Dan asks, and she can tell he’s on the brink of fucking winking at her because he’s just that much of an ass. “You wanted to play.”

“I’m not playing a game, you fucking infant.” She says, “Just because I don’t feel like wearing something, fucking what, inviting, you think I’m trying to mess with you? Grow the hell up.”

“You wear that back in Nevada for the human beansprout?”

Choosing to ignore him - he did ignore her first, after all - she pushes at the buttons on the remote, flicks off C-Span to settle on some european channel airing one of those gritty old black and white movies.

She doesn’t even give a shit what it is or what it’s about, but she turns the volume up purely to spite him because he starts talking again as soon as she settles the remote down.

But his voice gets louder, and she’s never wanted to gag him more.

“What, you can’t find anything in colour? We’ve gotta watch this medieval shit?”

He whines, sighs, and she knows that he only does it to gauge a reaction, to make her react.

“Could’ve put on some porn, given at least one of us something fun to watch.”

“For fuck’s sake.” She mumbles the words below her breath, teeth grinding, but he hears her all the same.

Dan smirks down at her, nudges her bicep with his elbow, “What was that? Did you just say something?” Nudge. Nudge. “Ames? You have something to say?” Smirk. Nudge.

“No. And it’d be great if you could quit being an annoying weirdo.”

“I’m being weird?”

Again? Fuck her!

“I’m not the one who was offering to cook dinner, Dan.” She points out. “I just wanted to sit here, and see what latest fuckups our piss-stained country was dealing with tonight, but you- You keep… You keep talking and fucking asking me shit and I’m sick of it.”

“I’m trying to be comforting-”

“Well, don’t. Because it’s not fucking comforting, and it’s not reassuring. You don’t have a comforting bone in your fucking body so I don’t even know why you’re pretending you do. It’s just irritating. You’re irritating.”

She runs her fingers through her hair, focuses wide eyes on the coffee table, trying her hardest to ignore his movements, the way his Adam’s apple bobs and his right eye twitches just the slightest.

“God, I fucking hate this. I hate having your kid. I hate being pregnant with your kid. You- You’re fucking toxic, and this kid- It’s poisonous. It’s got your fucked-up DNA and it’s just gnawing at my insides like a fucking virus.”

His face seems to stiffen at that, all tired eyes and tightly-drawn lips, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you done?”

“No.” Amy says, turning to face him then. Her expression’s blank, her eyes clear. A strand of hair falls at the side of her face, but he won’t move it, move to touch her. “I should’ve just had an abortion.”

She means it, in all fairness. And he believes her, knows she means it.

Her life would be so much simpler if she wasn’t pregnant, if she wasn’t being put through the ringer every fucking day. Life would just run much smoother. She could just get up and she could do what she wanted and she could fucking drink.

She wouldn’t have other (happy) pregnant women smiling, or single women judging her. She wouldn’t have greasy old men ogling her breasts (even though they haven’t even fucking grown that much - but it’s not like she wasn’t already used to that). She wouldn’t have Dan following her around like a fucking puppy, shoving a ring on her finger, trying to turn her into his latest pet project.

She wouldn’t be Selina’s little bitch. Well, not as much. She wouldn’t be tired and cranky and horny and messy and bitchy all the time. Well-

“You really think that?”

“Yeah. And you know, it’d be easier for you, too. You could go back to fucking half of the East Coast. You could take that fucking ring back, or force someone else to wear it. I don’t really care.”

She shrugs, quickly, and she licks her lips. It’s petty, sure, but- fuck him and his fucking half-assed attempt at codling her. Her legs pull up, and she’s pulling at the bottom of her nightie.

“Think about it. You wouldn’t have to face me in this.” One brow hitches and then she laughs, a small chuckle, “I’m sure there are plenty of women out there right now, drunk out of their minds, wet enough that you just could glide right in.” She does the hand gesture, stares him down, watches as his face turns from pale to rose.

“You want to Dan, don’t you? You can go. Go fuck someone else. I know you want to. Hell, you know, I want you to. Maybe that way you can crawl out of my asshole for five seconds and I can fucking breathe.”

“You want me to leave?”

Maybe this would be better. Maybe he does want out. Maybe he’s had one foot out the door this whole time. Maybe she’s right.

Amy nods, and her face gives off nothing but honesty. She’s learnt over the years. Well, no. She can control her emotions, sometimes. It’s just- He’s so annoying, and he’s always there, and she’s so fed up- “Yes. I want you to leave." 

"Fine.”

He stands faster than she can look up, and he’s downing the rest of his beer so quickly that she’s almost positive he has a head rush. The green bottle slams on the coffee table - thankfully it isn’t glass because she is not up for cleaning that mess, and he definitely wouldn’t clear it if he smashed it - and he’s heading towards the front door no sooner than he’s rounded the couch.

“Don’t forget a condom. Wouldn’t want anybody else being burdened with your fucking offspring!” She shouts, screams almost, folding her arms over her chest, not even bothering to look over the back of the couch.

It’s not that she’s sulking, or even being dramatic. She’s just- Done. She’s done. With him, with the way he’s acting. There’s only so much Good Dan she can handle, and he’s pushed her to the breaking point.

He grumbles something, but she doesn’t give enough of a shit to ask him about it. He slips on his sneakers, pulls a jacket over his arm - it is still March - jangles his keys in one hand (rattles them, more like) as though the noise is going to get her to look at him.

“I’m leaving.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ll bring you back that used condom, shall I?”

“Not if you get hit by a bus first.” She whispers to herself, looking down to her lap. Her fingers fidget, and she pulls her shoulders higher, broader.

The cushions of the couch do little to make her comfortable, and her neck tightens, throat dry, when the door opens and slams behind him.

“Asshole.”

Turns out, his mother had been in the guest room the whole time. She’d fallen asleep by the time they came home from the hospital, but the slamming of the front door had woken her up, made her walk into the living room with confusion clear on her face.

She’d joined Amy on the couch after unsuccessfully suggesting the blonde catch some sleep. She was headstrong, that was for sure.

“Danny is… He’s complicated.”

“Everyone’s complicated, that doesn’t make him special.” Amy says, “He’s just a shit.”

“Okay, yeah, he’s a shit.” Marie nods, offers the gentlest of smiles. “But he’s a lot less of a shit than he used to be. You know that.” She pats Amy’s arm, retracts it quickly when the blonde glances down at the gesture. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She shrugs, shaking her head twice. “I do know that.”

“I think you know why.”

“I just figured he was lobotomised as part of his CBS contract.” Amy smiles, or tries a smile at the very least.

Marie can’t help it if her son’s an absolute waste of space sometimes. She can’t help it if he’s a unbearable pain in Amy’s ass. She can’t help it if he’s the only one to ever make Amy at least consider ass- Then again, she did make him, so… Maybe she is to blame.

The older woman grins, keeps her arm thrown over the back of the couch. “He’s a lot to handle, I know. I raised him, Amy.” She reminds her with raised brows as though she’s read the blonde’s mind. “I didn’t raise him like that, but that’s- He grew into that.”

“You mean he hasn’t always had a moisturising routine and a groomed sack? That’s like music to my fucking ears.”

“I mean,” she starts, trying to ignore that last bit, “He’s not the boy I raised. We taught him well. We were good parents, in our own way.” She adds.

Amy frowns, chewing at the inside of her lip. “But?” They clearly fucked up as parents somewhere along the way.

“Then his dad cheated, and I stayed at first, and I think it took a toll on him. He started thinking he could get ahead in life by using women because that’s what his dad did, thought of himself as some kind of new age casanova. Bankers, all suits and assholes, I tell you. It was ridiculous really.” Her fingers thread through her fringe and she pulls it backwards with a slight shake of the head and a chuckle, “Should’ve kept him home until he was twenty-five.”

“He’s so awful, honestly. My dad fucking hates his guts, by the way. You can’t blame him.” Amy tells her, “He slept with my sister.” Why did she throw that out there? Fuck, why did she just-?

“What?” Marie’s voice dips then, and she seems to sit up straight. Amy would laugh if the memory wasn’t so- “That little fucker.”

“Yeah. We were- well, not in a good place because we’ve never been in a good place, but- Yeah.” She nods, confirms, smiles a genuine fucking smile when his mother groans aloud in some kind of understanding, “Not gonna lie, I haven’t entirely forgiven him.”

“You shouldn’t forgive him.” She shakes her head, and then her hand is on Amy’s shoulder again and it isn't not reassuring. “Don’t forgive him for that. Forgive him for being needy and clingy and melodramatic if you can, but, heck, don’t let him get away with that.”

“I didn’t. I got the fuck out of dodge first chance I got.”

“You mean that tall guy you got engaged, too?” She questions, “I saw your interview. It was painful, to say the least. But, well, at least you dodged a bullet with that one. He didn’t look like much.”

“He was just… Ah, I didn’t even know.” Amy waves a hand, blinks rapidly to force the memory out of her mind. “He was so bad at sex.”

“Compensating for the micro-penis with his height?”

“Something like that.” Marie nods, all wide brown eyes and curled-up corners of her mouth, and she has the exact same face Dan does when he’s intrigued, interested for all the wrong reasons, “Like, I didn’t even have to do anything. He just wanted me to lie there and then he had the nerve to bitch about it, saying I was boring?” She scoffs, “I don’t think I even came once.”

Marie gasps, and Amy’s so close to laughing at this entire situation. Is she fucking… gossiping with Dan’s mom? Lord fucking help her. Damn this fucking baby for making her un-Amy. Damn this fucking devil child for normalising her even just a little bit.

“Fucking hell.”

“And then I came back to a shitty job where my boss, who I’ve spent like a fucking decade of my life working for, back-burnered me in favour of Richard, and now look where I am.”

Knocked up with your evil son’s sadistic spawn and it’s fucking destroying me? Carrying Rosemary’s fucking baby, cranked up a notch or two?

The brunette pries, “At least tell me my boy gets you off? Please tell me Danny isn’t incompetent in every aspect of his life?”

What the fuck? So, he obviously inherited that from his fucking mother.

“He’s, uh… dedicated?”

“Yeah, he gets that from his dad.”

Amy’s so desperate for information, mainly so she can use it against him. She knows next to nothing about his father, and having something to use against Dan? Fucking score.

But her fatigue overpowers her curiosity, and she’s standing before she can contemplate the decision any longer.

“I’m gonna-” Amy nods her head towards the hallway, and she sniffles when the chill of the dimply-lit living room finally reaches her skin. Pulling at the sleeves of her nightgown, she shifts from one foot to the other, trying not to make the situation awkward.

“Right, yes.” Marie stands, copies her actions.

She runs her hands down her sides, and nods once, twice (in the slightest way). She smiles down at Amy because of course she’s just as tall as her son - or, well, he’s just as tall as his mom - “Goodnight, Amy." 

The blonde offers the smallest of smiles, baring teeth and batting tired lashes, "Yeah. Uh, night.”

She waits until Marie’s down the hallway before glancing at the door one last time. It’s well past two o'clock, and he’s probably balls deep in some skanky college grad by now.

Fuck him.

“Are those flowers?”

It’s the crinkling of the plastic around the stems that has her half-awake eyes flickering open, in curious suspicion.

“Yeah.” He grumbles more than speaks, and she feels him say it, breathe it, more than she hears it. “We missed Valentine’s Day.”

Because it’s early March and we don’t do that.

“Are they for me or for your conscience?”

Dan grunts, and can hear his shoes hit the floor carelessly as he kicks them off, “Both.” He lies flat on his back, his shoulder pushing against her curved back, all bone digging into spine. “Mostly for you.”

He doesn’t smell of anything other than beer and tequila. He doesn’t smell of cheap perfume or expensive perfume or anything feminine.

She doesn’t want to be that person, that girl who checks his pocket and scrolls through his phone, but- He doesn’t- She isn’t that person, doesn’t need to be, won’t be.

“Was she good?”

“Fucking- really?” He’s facing her now, she can feel it. His breath runs over the back of her neck, and she pulls her legs up tighter into her body, knees to abdomen. “You’re really asking me that?”

“You know what, I don’t care.” She rolls her eyes behind closed lids, forcing her eyes open to stare at the dresser across the room. “Just don’t touch me. I don’t wanna catch anything.”

There’s a huff, a pant, from his side of the bed, and then he’s flipped over, facing her back completely. He curls both arms in front of himself, resting them between both of their bodies. “I didn’t need to sleep with anyone else, Amy.”

“How comforting.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“What, do you want a fucking medal?” She hopes to Christ he can’t see her reflection in the mirror on the wall, hopes he can’t see the look of anguish on her face right now. It’s not that she cares, it’s just- He’s- “Congratulations, Dan. You successfully kept your dick in your pants for one night. I’ll buy you a plaque tomorrow.”

“I don’t-” He starts, pauses to collect himself. His voice softens, and she doesn’t like it this time, “You know, I kept thinking of you.” He stops, seems to wait for her to spare him a glance over her shoulder before continuing, “I was just… picturing you. Sat on the couch, by yourself, watching that shitty old romcom as though it was gonna bring you any kind of comfort. I thought ‘I could do this. I could fuck that pretty redhead across the bar. And I’d probably enjoy every second of it’.”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you?” She sounds aggravated, she knows, but he’s riling her up on purpose and it’s infuriating. He’s smoothing circles around her itches, covering her in goosebumps when she’s already freezing.

Yes, I get it, you dick. You can go out and fuck whoever you like. You can go out and-

“Because I kept thinking of you. Okay? Because you sitting there looking all glum and fuckin’ miserable as I left the apartment earlier? That wasn’t- It wasn’t fun. I thought of you, and I felt guilty. And I don’t even know why because it’s not like you give a shit about me. I mean, fuckin’ hell, Amy, would it kill you to try being with me?”

Being, as in- What?

“I did try.”

She swallows, holds back a breath she isn’t sure she wants to set free. If he hears her sob, or hiccup, or fucking cry- If he-

God for-fucking-bid. She sits up, refuses to face him, “You made me try, so I tried, and I failed.”

“I don’t want you to try because it’s what I want. I want you to try because you want to. I want you to try because it matters to you, not because you think it’ll make things easier.”

Easier, because easy is impossible. They can minimise the pain. They can place boundaries where normal people don’t need them.

Dan copies her, moving to kneel behind her. His hands fall to the mattress, touching the edge of her fucking nightie, “You’re no fucking picnic and this is not easy, and it’s not gonna be fuckin’ easy because if I don’t want to kill you then you want to kill me, and we’re probably doomed for fucking failure anyway, but I want you to try.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.” She tells him, shooting him the briefest of looks over her shoulder (again), “What you want is the kid because you think it’ll give you some kind of fucking purpose, because you want to exploit it or something. What you want is this little fantasy that you’ve dreamt up where we have a family and you convince me to marry you after so many years and we live happily ever after in political fucking bliss. It won’t work. It never works.”

“You don’t know that.” Dan says, like an overconfident little brat, like the eager frat boy he probably once was.

His tone frustrates her, and the way his knee digs into her lower back pisses her off, and the way his hand is so close to her leg makes her blood boil, and-

“Try me.”

“What if I don’t want to try?”

“I’m not asking you to put on a pretty white dress and walk down a fuckin’ aisle, Amy. Just, give me something here. Meet me halfway.”

“If I meet you halfway, then you’ll just grab on and drag me down your dark fucking path to hell.”

She moves her shoulders, lets the cold air running through the apartment blister her skin. It isn’t cold enough, doesn’t sting.

Placing one hand on her waist, Dan pulls at her side until she’s facing him. He cups her chin in his hand (forcefully) when she refuses to meet his eye, “Amy.”

“What?”

He tilts her head, waiting until her gaze falls on his mouth because it's enough. He’ll settle for that.

“We’re already going to hell.” He informs her as though it’s fact, “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re kind of already a package deal.”

“I don’t want to be.”

“If you didn’t, then you’d look me in the eye and calm the fuck down.”

She can’t do it, can’t force herself to stare right at him, stare him down and let him know that she-

Damn it. Damn him.

“Do you know why I want you to try?”

“Because you’re a fucking sociopath and you need constant validation?”

“Because this,” Dan waves his free hand back and forth between them, watching as she watches him, lets it wrap around her elbow, “it could work. We can work. We can be great.”

“Careful, Dan. You almost sound romantic.”

“Not so much romantic as pragmatic.”

Amy rolls her eyes, can’t help the faint smile that starts to form at the sheer thought, “Because you’ve got that sad little fantasy playing on a loop in that fucked-up head of yours and you're just about delusional enough to think it could it actually be real.”

“Because you’re the best thing for me.”

“Is this where you propose for real?”

“Would you wear a pretty white dress if I did?” His brows raise, his face teasing, so smug he may as well be chewing gum with his mouth open, sloppy. “You wanna take a trip down the aisle?”

She snorts, “Not even halfway. Besides, my dad would never let me marry you.”

“What are you, sixteen?” He asks, “You don’t need Daddy’s permission to marry me.”

“He’d fucking kill you. I’d probably be the one handing him the shovel to dig your grave in his backyard.”

“You wouldn’t even help out your poor husband?” His fingers crawl up her elbow, dance along her bicep, tugging at and riding up the sleeve of her shirt, “You wouldn’t wanna die with me?”

“And miss out on the funeral? No fucking way. I’ve got so many stories to tell people. Gonna piss all over your name and reputation. Maybe start a bonfire, burn all your fucking suits.”

“Yeah? You can wear this piece of shit to my funeral if you want. At least I won’t be around to see it.” He scrunches it up between his fingers, and she looks down when his face turns from amusement to astonishment, “Not gonna lie about it, it’s actually kind of soft.”

“See? Who needs lace panties…”

She nudges him this time, stretches her legs out and moves her body around so her back is resting against his chest. His left hand slips to her side when they’re both lay down, resting his arm beneath her pillow, and his right hand reaches around her front, fingers curling, threading through her hair, crook of his elbow comfortable around her neck.

“Well, I mean, you could still-”

“Shut up.”

Dan scratches his brow with the hand at her front, blinks, thinking. He can feel her breath on his skin, feel the hair of his forearm stick up at the sound of her voice, warm despite the broken radiator.

“D'you wanna know the sex?”

“No. Don’t care.”

“It’s a boy.”

She hits him, smacking his arm with the back of her hand, “You prick!”

“Amy?”

She doesn’t reply, only makes a little grunting noise, backs up into him as though that’ll suffice.

“This kid’s so fucked.”

“I know.” She agrees, grabs her pillow from his hand and pulls it closer, pressing her face into the cotton, pushing her backside further into him because he’s warm and his body is, she finds, a perfect harmony of softness and roughness. “Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“I hate roses.”

“I know.” There’s a low chuckle, and she feels his fingers tighten in her hair, gripping and grasping but not quite pulling, “I left the peonies in the kitchen.”

It’s subtle, the way he remembers everything about her - so subtle that he doesn’t even know he’s doing it most of the time. He knows how many layers she has, knows just how to unravel each and every one. He knows her inside and out, knows just how to calm her down, how to rile her up when he wants to.

He knows what she needs when she needs something, knows how to handle her when she spins, falls and loses herself. And, in some way, he think she’s come to rely on him. And he likes it, likes that she needs him sometimes. He kind of likes being her compass, her fucking lifeline.

Nobody else gets her; understands her when she needs it or possesses her when she wants it. Nobody else worries, has an aching feeling in the pit of their stomach when she’s even in some pain. Nobody else cares enough to try with her.

That’s concern, right? Nothing less, nothing more?

Maybe, maybe not.

It’s only when she kicks him in the shin and grabs his hand that he thinks it might be more than that, more than a little feeling.

It’s only when she falls asleep and he finds calmness in the steady rhythm of her breath that he thinks this might be more than a fleeting thing, than a passing emotion.

“Asshole.”

Fuck.

He’s never been good with emotions, identifying them or processing them, but- Shit, he didn’t ever want to feel this.

What the fuck is he supposed to do now?

That’s love, you fuckin’ idiot.

[mingxias-blog]

hi, butterflies ! my name’s tea, and i’m over-the-moon thrilled to introduce you all to my adorable, bright-eyed broken bird ⌜ WU MINGXIA. ⌟ she’s a muse that i’ve planned out for the past week, and i feel as though i’ve ( finally ) perfected her. please read onwards if you’d like to learn more about her, and if you wanna plot, show me some love by LIKING THIS POST so i can message you. let’s get this party started, shall we ??

╰ ° ♡ ・ﾟ ╮   ❝ 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 !

*✧･ — woah, was that ⸤ ZHOU JIEQIONG ⸣ i just saw walking around seoul? oh, never mind, that’s just �� WU MINGXIA ⸣. they’re an ⸤ EIGHTEEN ⸣ year old ⸤ STYLIST ⸣, known around the city for being the ⸤ PARACOSMIC ⸣… i guess that’s because of their ⸤ BEWITCHING and SERAPHIC ⸣ tendencies, though, be warned, they are also rumoured to be ⸤ MENDACIOUS and FICKLE ⸣. this particular ⸤ OUTSIDER ⸣ identifies as a ⸤ HETEROSEXUAL CISFEMALE ⸣, using the pronouns ⸤ SHE/HER ⸣.

╰ ° ♡ ・ﾟ ╮   ❝ 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖 !

⌜ ONE. ⌟ born in the hustle and bustle of shanghai, china, mingxia was the only daughter to an esteemed, highly regarded fashion designer and his current muse —— a model that he had an affair with. even though he was married at the time ( which was quite the scandal in the media ) the two of them decided to test their waters; staying together to raise their little one, hoping so much that they’d be blessed with a son due to the one-child law. however, once the day arrived, both of them were surprised, but happy, that they were blessed with a happy, healthy daughter —— one with a smile so bright and skin so fair that the rising sun of dawn was envious of her from the moment she took her first breath of fresh air. due to that, they decided on the name MINGXIA ( which means bright halo, or shining. )

⌜ TWO. ⌟ despite all of the negative attention her birth received from chinese media outlets, mingxia lived a happy childhood —— attending a private school that her father could afford due to large amounts of cash he received for his designs. however, due to the backlash he, himself, received from multiple sources, his business took a huge hit, and her mother lost out and lots of jobs as a model. they both had to survive with money they had stored in their bank accounts until the little-to-no income was too detrimental on their lifestyle. having some extended family in south korea, the wu’s decided to move over there; packing up their lives in search for a brand new start. although this was only meant to bring goodness to them, mingxia couldn’t help but feel upset that she’d have to give up all her friends, and her home in shanghai. she’d never had to say goodbye before, so that was rough on her.

⌜ THREE. ⌟ once touching ground in the illustrious city of seoul, their small family was met with a world full of new cultures, and a democracy that they hadn’t necessarily experienced living in china: a communist country. however, they were extremely excited that they’d be closer to some of their family members, and after a few years pass, her father had every intention to start-up a new line of fashion with a string of new boutiques all throughout the city. until then, they moved into a sumptuous house in the gangnam district, and mingxia began going to a new school and was incredibly anxious about it. she was in a place where she didn’t know anyone whatsoever. that, and all of the children in her class were almost fixated with her, in a sense. no one had ever taken such an interest in her before, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. either way, she was quick to make some new friends —— most of which were girls that had lots of things in common with her, so she felt right at home in due time.

⌜ FOUR. ⌟ fast forward a few years to middle school. by this time, her father had waited long enough and he began to work on sketches for his latest work. now that his daughter had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, he used her youth as inspiration for his latest line. using a different name this time, he launched his career once more, and after a few years, was a household name in seoul. this only skyrocketed mingxia’s popularity with all of her friends —— especially with the girls, since they were often gifted with free clothes to wear around school in order to start trends. however, male classmates were quick to notice her too; her maturing appearance eye-catching, to say the least, and lots of them had crushes on her. oblivious to all of this, she remained the happy-go-lucky girl she’d always been. not once in her life had she ever been a difficult child for her parents to raise, and they were often quite proud of her. she was almost too perfect in their eyes.

⌜ FIVE. ⌟ then, unfortunately, things began to get quite sad for mingxia. it all started in high school, specifically at age fifteen. she’d met a boy there, and he wanted to be with her so, so bad. she remembered him from elementary school, and knew that he was the boy that would pick on some of the other kids that were smaller than him, or that came from less money, and she had her reservations about him because of that. sure, it had been several years since then, but she couldn’t help but hold those memories in the back of her head. however, he seemed charming, and no other boy was ever brave enough to approach her, so she decided to give him a chance —— hoping that he’d changed since then. after going on a date, the two of them had a great time, and she was pleased that he was different. after a few months of hanging out with one another, they decided to become official ; giving their relationship a title. at first, things were great. he treated her to wonderful gifts, and she’d return the favor, and so on. a year later, things began to grow really serious, and with all those new transitions came all of the hurt that she’d endure.

⌜ SIX. ⌟ at sixteen, the two of them began to experiment sexually, and she knew that they were too young for that, but he wanted it, and she loved him, so she went along with it —— finding her own enjoyment out of being so close to him. however, this only made him incredibly jealous and possessive of her ; often getting angry with her whenever other men would talk to her. soon, he’d even get upset whenever women would talk to her ; her own friends almost banished from spending time with her. none of this was okay with her, and she’d voice her opinions, but whenever she would, he’d become violent. shoving her, covering her mouth with his hand, threatening her. it was all becoming too much. then, to top it all off, she discovered that she was pregnant. horrified, she ran to her mother and told her all that had been going on. the abuse, the pregnancy, and how quickly things had escalated. her once pristine life had taken a total turn for the worst, and she had no idea where to turn. knowing that she wasn’t old enough to raise a child on her own, her mother planned an impromptu trip back to shanghai for the two of them —— her father never in the know about any of this, until after.

⌜ SEVEN. ⌟ due to abortion being illegal in korea, she knew that they’d have to take advantage of their dual citizenship in this scenario —— scheduling an appointment with a doctor in china in order to get the deed done. as much as it broke mingxia’s heart to know what was occurring, she couldn’t help but know that her mother was right. once all of it was complete, she felt a huge relief, but also a deep sadness... one unlike anything else in the world. surrounded by her family, she recovered in good spirits, and returned to korea a few weeks later; her boyfriend enraged due to her absence. however, in the time she was gone, she was able to file a restraining order on him, and for her health, become homeschooled. the changes that she went through completely drained her emotionally, and she slowly, but surely, spiraled into a dark depression. the burden of an abortion, the scars from the abuse, and the hurt in her heart were overwhelming, and it was then when she began to see a therapist. it took a few years, and a prescription of medication, but by eighteen, she finally feels level-headed once more —— her feet now planted into the ground. 

⌜ EIGHT. ⌟ now, she attends school for fashion design and works as a stylist for korea’s elite and most-esteemed celebrities. additionally, she models for her father’s line exclusively, and her face is one that many recognize from around the area. however, she’s nowhere near a large-scale star. still incredibly cheerful, she’s been through a lot in her time on earth, and has done her best to remain positive throughout all of the madness. she hopes that, one day, she could meet a man that’d erase all of the negative memories she has about her first love, and that she could become as successful as her old man, but for now, she’s getting through life one step at a time... and that’s enough for her.

╰ ° ♡ ・ﾟ ╮   ❝ 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕗𝕠 !

thank you all for taking the time to read about mingxia ! she’s a broken little dove, but she does her absolute best to remain happy and healthy. if you’re interested in learning more about specific connections needed for her development, please don’t hesitate to message me so i can inform you on some. i’ll be working on a more in-depth connections page for her, but that will come in due time. once again, thank you, and i can’t wait to rp with you !