#annoyed their wean date is....the day before i leave but what can you do

[tetedurfarm]

having a snack on their shiny new floor ✨

[lastbluetardis]

And Baby Makes Seven (4/?)

Things don’t always go as planned. Faced with an unexpected pregnancy, James and Rose have to work quickly to get everything prepared for their fifth child, and to prepare their eldest children for a new addition to the family. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: Explicit, 6100 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 34, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: almost 6 months

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

AO3 | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 |

The rest of the summer holiday passed by lazily. While Ainsley was counting down the days until the new school term began, Sianin seemed to ignore it in the hopes it wouldn’t come. But, inevitably, the first day of school dawned, sunny and hot.

Waking Sianin up was as delightful as ever, as she tried to hide away from James’s poking fingers by pulling her blankets up over her head. He knew she would’ve stay like that for long, since it would be far to stuffy in there, especially since the morning was already warm, making the air in the house stagnant.

As predicted, she flung her blankets off of her head with a loud whine mere seconds later, then dutifully trudged out of bed to get ready for school. Ainsley was already half way through her bowl of cereal by the time Sianin joined them.

She’d dressed herself in her school uniform but hadn’t tucked in the shirt. James mindlessly did it for her, but noticed she’d untucked it again five minutes later.

“Don’t touch,” he said as he tucked her shirt in for a second time.

But she kept fidgeting with her uniform all throughout breakfast, untucking her shirt from her skirt and driving James and Rose mad.

“It’s pulling,” Sianin complained when James fixed her outfit yet again.

“What do you mean, darling?” he asked.

Sianin lifted her arms above her head. “See? Pulling.”

It took James a long minute to understand what she meant. Her shirt strained around her middle as she lifted her arms in the air.

“We’ll get you a bigger shirt,” he promised.

“It’s too tight, Daddy,” she whimpered. “I’m not comfortable! I don’t like the way it feels.”

“Can you be a brave girl and wear it for today?” he asked. “I promise Mummy and I will get you a new shirt in time for tomorrow’s school day.”

After a bit more moaning and grumbling, Sianin reluctantly agreed, though she kept fidgeting with her clothes all morning.

“Want to take bets on whether Sianin comes home with a warning for not having her shirt tucked in, or being obstinate about tucking it back in?”

“Not taking that bet,” Rose muttered under her breath. “I thought we checked their uniforms last week.”

“We did,” James answered. “But I suppose there’s a difference between saying something is comfortable in the two seconds it takes it try it on, versus it actually being comfortable when confronted with wearing it all day.”

Rose pinched his side. “Guess I’ll be off on a shopping trip this morning.”

After the traditional first day of school photoshoot, James loaded his eldest girls into one vehicle while Rose loaded the twins into the other. She kissed Ainsley and Sianin goodbye and wished them well before she went off on her errands for the day.

Since the school drop off queue was always pandemonium on the first day, James parked a couple blocks away at a coffee shop and walked with his girls to the school. When they reached the building, he knelt down to give them each a hug and a kiss.

“Have a great day. I’ll see you this evening. I love you very, very much.”

He then stood and watched his children walk away from him and towards their various friend groups. William was perched on the short brick wall surrounding the garden in front of the school; his entire face lit up when he saw Ainsley. He jumped off the wall and ran to give her a big hug, then, together, they skipped into the school, leaving Sianin behind.

James was slightly annoyed at his eldest for so quickly abandoning her little sister, but Sianin eventually caught up with a group of her friends. No hugs were exchanged, but Sianin beamed brightly at them and began to follow them inside. She turned around at the doorway and scanned the crowd. He lifted his hand in a wave, and she smiled, waving back at him before she disappeared into the building.

Yet another round of first days, done, he lamented to himself. How were his girls getting so big? 

As he walked back to his car, James grabbed his phone from his pocket. “I’m getting coffee before coming in. Can I get you something?”

He shot off the text in two individual messages to his work mates, Mark and River. They were two of his only mates at the university, ever since he had gotten into a major row with one of his other colleagues, Rodney. James had taken to avoiding Rodney and any friends of Rodney, which unfortunately turned out to be most of the department. Not that anybody else was treating him poorly or avoiding him, but James couldn’t help but feel like they were silently judging him, and had been for a long time. It made it hard to fake cordiality and friendship.

The buzzing of his phone interrupted his maudlin thoughts.

Nah, mate, I’m good. The missus and I had breakfast out with the kids before school, Mark responded. Thanks though.

River didn’t reply until James was nearly at the front register about to order. Large black coffee please. Leave room for cream but don’t add any. And a scone. Surprise me with the flavor ;)

He sent back a thumbs up and slipped his phone into his pocket as he stepped up to the counter. He placed his order, and five minutes later, he left the coffee shop with two coffees and a blueberry scone.

River worked in the anthropology department, which was on the other side of the university campus. The sun was already shining down hotly, despite the early morning hour, and so he parked in a temporary spot to run River’s breakfast to her.

“Good morning, Professor McCrimmon,” River purred when he stepped into her office.

“Good morning, Professor Song,” he parroted. He held up her coffee and the paper bag with her scone. “Your order.”

“Oh, you’re a gem,” she said, reaching to take the coffee. She turned away from him to open the mini-fridge in the corner of her office. It was packed with half a dozen different bottles of flavored coffee creamer. “I think I’m feeling French Vanilla today.”

James shrugged, not particularly fond of flavored creams. They were far too sweet.

“School drop off went well?” River asked as she poured the cream until the coffee was a light tan color.

He tugged his phone from his back pocket and pulled up the quick photo he’d snapped of Ainsley and Sianin.

“Sianin waited until this morning to tell us her school shirt was getting a bit small,” James said, handing his phone to River, “but otherwise, yeah.”

River glanced at the photo before handing it back to him. “She’s nearly as big as her sister.”

“Ainsley’s small for her age. In the first percentile, if I remember correctly,” James explained. “She and Sianin can nearly share clothes. It won’t be too much longer now before they can.”

River made a humming noise then turned to her scone. She opened the packaging and took a large bite.

“Well, I’d best be off,” James said, scratching the back of his head. “Want to do lunch this afternoon?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” River said, grinning.

James beamed, relieved that he wouldn’t be eating lunch alone that day. “Great. I have a class that ends right at noon, so we can meet then? If that works?”

“I’ll meet you in your office,” River said. “I’ve got a meeting on your side of campus at one anyway.”

“It’s a plan. Until then.” He gave a dramatic bow and backed out of the office to get to his own building.

oOoOo

The first week back at school was always exhausting as everybody readjusted to the schooltime routine. While James and Rose tried to keep their kids in a routine over the summer, they never quite managed. Sianin preferred to sleep an hour extra during the summers, and Ainsley, though she loved school, wasn’t always a fan of being around large groups of people and often shut herself in her room as soon as she got home.

But finally Friday arrived, heralding the first successful week of school. As was tradition, James and Rose planned a date night with their kids. Though this year, they had to account for the twins. Thankfully, Robert was more than happy to take the babies overnight.

They made homemade chips and personal pizzas so everyone could have their toppings of choice, and he and Rose broke out the wine. With the twins gone for the night and mostly weaned from breast milk, Rose no longer had to worry as much about alcohol consumption for the first time in over a year.

Once everyone was fed, James pulled down half a dozen board game boxes, letting family game night commence. They played through seemingly every board game they owned, as well as a few card games. For some of the more complex games, such as Cluedo, Sianin partnered up with Ainsley to play against their parents.

And all the while, James kept his and Rose’s wine glasses filled until they’d had to break open a second bottle of wine.

“It’s so nice to not have the twins here,” Rose murmured, her words slurred slightly as she leaned against James to take a look at the cards he held in his hand. “I can drink and drink and drink, guilt free!”

“Oi, cheater,” James said, pushing his shoulder against her and hiding his cards against his chest.

Rose giggled and snuggled closer to him. She tilted her head up until her lips were at his ear. The sensation of her warm breath tickling across his ear sent shivers down his spine. 

“I think I’m a liiiiittle bit tipsy,” Rose whispered.

“Maybe a bit,” James agreed. “But in your defense, you haven’t drunk much in over a year now. Your tolerance has gone to shit.”

“Daddy, your turn,” Sianin said, laying a card in the discard pile.

“Thanks, darling,” he said, returning his attention to their game of Uno.

They stayed up well past the kids’ bedtime, enjoying themselves far too much to bring an end to the night. However, when both kids were nearly falling asleep against each other in yet another round of Uno, James and Rose decided to put an end to the evening.

“Let’s call it a night,” James suggested, blinking against his slightly-swimming vision. He and Rose had polished off half of their second bottle of wine, and the room was a little unsteady.

“M’kay,” Ainsley agreed, her eyes a bit heavy.

“Do I hafta get a shower?” Sianin mumbled, rubbing her fists into her eyes.

“Nah,” James answered, glancing at Rose to make sure she approved. “Get one in the morning, though.”

“M’kay.” She heaved a sigh and nestled closer to Ainsley, not making a move to stand.

James couldn’t exactly blame her. He was comfortable where he was, leaning against the front of the couch with his arm around his wife and her familiar heat seeping through his clothes.

It took several attempts to scramble to his knees and then to his feet without falling over. Though he’d teased Rose for her alcohol tolerance going to shit, his had gone to shit right alongside hers; without his favorite drinking partner, he rarely had more than one or two drinks at a time.

“C’mon,” James said once he’d managed to stand. “Time for bed. Up, Sianin.”

She lifted her arms, as though expecting to be picked up.

“Sorry, darling,” James said, grimacing. “Daddy had a tiny bit too much wine to carry you safely.  I don’t want to drop you, eh?”

She huffed a sigh, and slowly pushed herself to her feet. With how much she swerved and stumbled down the hall, James would’ve thought she was a tad drunk too.

“Nighty night Mum. Night Dad.” Ainsley stepped up to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Sweet dreams,” he said, pecking a clumsy kiss to her the crown of her head. “Love you loads. I’ll be in to tuck you in when I’ve finished with Sianin.”

She hummed in acknowledgement and moved down the hall. James followed, stepping into Sianin’s room to wait for her to finish her nightly routine.

She had stripped out of her clothes and was in a baggy t-shirt he recognized as one of Rose’s in lieu of pajamas.

“I don’t want a story tonight,” Sianin said, curling up in bed and tugging her blankets to her chest.

He wasn’t going to insist. He wasn’t sure his eyes could focus on reading a book to her. “Okay. Just for tonight, though. Goodnight, Sianin. I love you very, very much.”

She grunted and tilted her head up to accept his kiss before nuzzling into her pillow and promptly falling asleep.

He left her room and shuffled across the hall to Ainsley’s room. The light was still on. He knocked and pushed open the door in the same second; however, a yelp halted his movements.

“Dad! Wait!”

The door slammed in his face and he cringed, his face heating. “Ainsley, I’m sorry, darling.”

“I was changing!”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, raking his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”

She said nothing, but thirty seconds later, she opened the door for him. She was scowling up at him, her arms crossed at her chest. “What’s the point in knocking if you’re going to just come in anyway?”

“You’re exactly right,” James said patiently. “I am very, very sorry. I promise I’ll wait in the future. I’m sorry.”

She relaxed a fraction. “I was already mostly dressed anyway. Not sure you even saw anything. Sorry for snapping. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is,” he said firmly. “This is your room, your space. I want to respect that as much as I can, including respecting a closed door.”

She flashed him a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Right, into bed with you.”

She pulled down the covers and slipped onto the mattress. He leaned down and brushed her hair away from her face before planting a kiss to her forehead.

She wrinkled her nose. “Your breath stinks.”

“Gee, thanks, Ains,” he said dryly, flicking her nose lightly.

“Just saying,” she replied sweetly, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Love you, Dad.”

“I love you too. Nighty night. Sweet dreams.”

He fussed with her blankets for a moment longer before he straightened and left the room, flipping the lights off as he did.

When he returned to the living room, Rose was sprawled across the sofa, shirtless, a half-empty bottle of wine in her fist. She drank directly from it and beamed when she saw him.

“Hey handsome,” she purred. She wiggled the bottle in his direction. “Wanna help me finish it. I’ve lost the cork so we ought to drink it so it doesn’t go to waste.”

“Is that right?” he drawled.

“Mhm,” she said, taking another swig.

Never mind the fact that they had plenty of wine stoppers, James plopped onto the couch beside his wife and took the proffered bottle.

“As lovely as you are, where’s your shirt?”

She gestured vaguely to the floor. “Somewhere over there.”

He glanced around and saw a ball of fabric in the middle of their living room floor. “And why is your shirt somewhere over there?”

“I was hot,” she complained.

And she looked it: her face was bright red and shiny. Now that she said something, he realized how hot their living room was. His cheeks seemed to radiate heat, sending it down his neck and into is chest until his shirt felt sweltering. Wordlessly, he passed the wine back to her and leaned forward just far enough to strip his shirt over his head and drop it to the floor by their feet.

“Mmm… you look even hotter now,” Rose murmured, her half-glazed eyes scanning across his bare torso. “Gettin’ me all hot and bothered.”

He hummed and puffed up his chest a little bit as he took the bottle from her and took a long gulp.

“My turn,” she said, turning into his side to grab the bottle from him. She glugged down several swallows, nearly choking on a snort as he whisper-chanted, “Chug chug chug chug…”

She was slightly out of breath when she handed the bottle to him. As though it were a big secret, she confided, “I… I am prop… proly… prop’ly wasted.”

“Me too,” he hummed, his body delightfully buoyant. His head was spinning and he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to get up and walk to their bedroom without tripping and falling flat on his face.

“I am so in love with you,” Rose said, grinning lazily up at him. “So in love.”

“Me too,” he repeated.

“Your elo… equlo… eloque… your way with words is… is astounding,” she teased, pinching his waist and draping herself into his side.

“What’d���you expect? The most beautiful woman in the universe is half-naked and half in my lap,” he said.

“Hmmm… do you want the most beat’ful woman in the universe fully naked and fully in your lap?”

The heat thrumming through James’s veins suddenly concentrated in his groin. He had barely begun to nod when Rose was shimmying out of her trousers. They were soft, stretchy yoga trousers, so she didn’t need to fumble with a button or zipper, but she still struggled to coordinate her limbs enough to tug them down her legs.

“M’pretty sure m’legs used t’be shorter,” she grumbled as her ankles got stuck.

He reached over and helped. Well, he grabbed a handful of fabric and began yanking. Eventually, her trousers fell to the floor, leaving her in her bra and a pair of white cotton knickers.

She frowned down at them. “Didn’t expect you’d see these. Sorry.”

“They’re very sexy,” he assured. She turned her frown on him. “They are! Primarily b’cos the sexiest woman in the universe is wearing them. You make your clothes sexy, Rose. Not th’other way ‘round.”

“How are you able to talk so smoothly?” Rose demanded. “Words feel… feel… they feel… far away.”

“Oh, you know me. Gob always going. I think words are basically ingrained in m’brain and come out whether I want them to or not, so I’m just going on autopilot now, love. Doesn’t matter. We were in the middle of something. Wasn’t I about to have the most beautiful woman in the world fully naked and fully in my lap?”

“Hmmm. You’ve got too many clothes.” Rose tugged on the waistband of his jeans. “S’no fun being naked when my naked partner isn’t naked.”

“You make a compelling argument,” James replied, and he pushed himself off of the couch to stand on wobbly legs.

He hadn’t realized how heavily Rose had been leaning on him, though. She yelped and fell sideways onto the sofa, where she dissolved into hysterical laughter. He joined in, especially when he nearly tumbled to his arse as he shucked off his trousers.

“Ta-da!” he crowed when he was left in nothing but his boxer-briefs.

Rose beamed up at him, her face bright red. She squirmed around for a minute, then managed to haul herself up onto an elbow, bringing her face to crotch-level. James was painfully aware of all the blood that was throbbing between his legs; he looked down to see he had half a stiffie tenting the front of his pants.

“Well hello,” Rose purred to his crotch, covering his erection with her palm.

He sighed and tipped his head back as gentle warmth and pleasure rolled through him. Rose then carefully tugged the waistband of his boxer-briefs down just far enough to free his cock. Without warning, she slotted her mouth over him. His hips jolted forward and he nearly stumbled on top of her. She let out a small gag, recoiling, and he took a hurried step back.

“Sorry! God, I’m sorry!” he squeaked, panting, but she was laughing.

“What a news story that would make,” she said, eyes bright with mirth. “‘Local woman chokes to death in drunken attempt at a blow job’.”

James giggled in return. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.” He paused, his cheeks flaming as he stuttered, “Can… can we try again?”

“Do you want your cock in my mouth?” she asked, blinking up at him through lowered lashes.

The blood fell out of his cheeks and back into his cock. “Yes please.”

He was ready this time when Rose leaned forward and took him into her mouth. He groaned softly as he was surrounded by heat and wet. Pleasure fizzed through him, mounting so quickly he was worried about popping off in her mouth within the next few seconds; it would be doubly embarrassing because he wasn’t even fully hard yet. But the intensity receded slightly after a moment, and he began to worry a bit less about coming prematurely.

“Love you,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her hair. He didn’t try to guide her motions or speed her up, he simply wanted to touch her. And he needed a bit of help to keep his balance.

After another minute, she pulled off of him and smiled apologetically. “Sorry. My neck’s getting a bit cramped.”

“S’okay,” he said. “My legs are a bit wobbly and I’m pretty sure I’d fall on you if you made me come.”

“Were you close?” she asked.

“A little,” he admitted.

“Me too,” she answered cheekily. It was then that he realized she’d had one of her hands down her knickers. The sight made his cock throb.

“Allow me. Get on your back.”

Her eyes darkened at the command, but she complied. Her hand was still down her pants, moving in lazy circles.

“I want to see.” That was the only warning he gave before he grabbed at the waistband of her knickers and began tugging them down her legs.

He was sure there was a trick to this—he knew he’d done this thousands of times before—but his movements were jagged and her knickers kept getting caught on unseen barriers. He grumbled and growled, but finally her knickers were on the floor, leaving her gloriously naked.

She had helped him remove her knickers as much as she could, but now her hands had wandered down between her legs once more. She was glistening with desire, and his stomach tightened in anticipation.

“Let me see you,” he said, his voice gruff.

“Gimme your shirt,” Rose said. He furrowed his brow. “Shirt… pants… something to put under me. Don’ want awkward stains on th’sofa.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.”

He pawed on the carpet for both of their shirts—just to be safe—and he deftly slid them beneath her bum when she angled her hips up.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, fumbling out of his own underwear. “So gorgeous.”

She beamed at him, but her face loosened as her fingers disappeared between her legs. She moaned softly as she stroked herself, her movements slow and lazy as though they had all the time in the world.

He loved when they did this. He loved watching her pleasure herself. He knelt on the sofa cushion beside her and stroked his erection, trying to savor this moment as long as he could. Her skin was flushed red from arousal and alcohol, and her breathing was shortening as her fingers sped up.

“I’m so close, James,” she sighed, head lolling back in pleasure. “Feels so good.”

He cursed under his breath as his stomach dropped in warning. “Me too.”

“Get inside me,” she ordered suddenly. “Now.”

He groaned at the need in her voice, echoing the need in his body. He crawled on top of her, settling himself between her hips. He choked down a cry when she took him in her hand, her fingers slick with her own moisture. She rubbed the tip of him against herself and hissed out a low string of curses.

“Rose,” he panted, his whole body shuddering with impending release. “Rose, I'm gonna come. I’m really gonna…”

“Not yet,” she pleaded, arching her hips to try and get him lined up.

Her fingers were stroking him as she tried and failed again and again to get the angle right. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of anything except the feel of her and of the mounting, overwhelming pleasure thrumming through him.

“Rose,” he grunted in warning as the pressure at his spine flared hot. “I’m seriously going to come. D’you want it like this or…?”

“No, I want you in me but you aren’t fitting,” she whined, frustrated. “You always fit!”

“Allow me.” He batted her hand away from his cock. He throbbed in time with his heart, a steady, pulsing beat that promised so much relief and pleasure that he nearly said sod it and stroked himself to completion.

But he also wanted to be inside his wife. He wanted to satisfy her, and her desire for him to be in her. Squeezing the base of his cock to try to stave off his imminent orgasm, he lined himself up, shuddering as her wet heat teased him. He had seconds, maybe, before he’d be past the point of no return. He could feel it swelling deep within him.

“I’m not going to last once I’m in you,” he warned.

“Me either,” Rose said, her fingers circling her clit now that his cock was no longer rubbing it. “James, in!”

God, she was tight. Her muscles were already clenching in preparation, and he growled deep in his throat as he finally pushed into her. She let out a cry that was probably far too loud but he didn’t care. He didn’t care because he was inside of his wife and she was so hot and wet and she was shattering around him, pulling him into her. Her muscles pulsed and throbbed around him as she gripped his arse, her nails biting into his sensitive flesh.

She moaned into his ear, wordless sounds that he wanted to echo, wanted to feel. The sensation of her breath in his ear sent searing goosebumps across his skin and finally pushed him over the edge.

“Oh, fuck,” he croaked, his hips stuttering as he chased his own high. “I’m gonna… I need to… Rose, I’m gonna…”

Words failed him as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was right on the cusp, right on the edge of heat and pressure and infinity. She breathed his name and squeezed his arse, and that was all it took. The electric thrum at the base of his spine sparked and he thrust deeply into her with a garbled shout of relief.

Everything was hot and wet and pulsing, friction and slipping and sliding, as time lost all meaning. His world narrowed to him and Rose and the place they were joined and the rush of endorphins flooding his body.

“God,” he gritted out, his orgasm raging through him. Body trembling, his coordination abandoned him; he collapsed onto Rose.

Panting raggedly, he tucked his face into her neck and prayed that none of their children would leave their room for the next few minutes, because he didn’t think he would be able to move from where he was to grab a blanket or something to cover up with. He was utterly sated, drowsy, and boneless, and the thought of moving was abhorrent.

“I love you,” he rasped, wriggling his arms under Rose’s shoulders to hold her closer. He felt as though he couldn’t hold her tightly enough. “God, I love you. I love you.”

Silence greeted him, and he frowned. Why wasn’t Rose talking to him? She always talked to him after a round of fantastic sex. And for that matter, why wasn’t she hugging him back? Her hands were lying limply on the small of his back.

“Rose, love?” He forced himself to pull back. Rose’s eyes were closed; she was asleep.

He chuckled under his breath, choosing not to be offended. Instead, he was rather pleased that he had worn her out so thoroughly. (He willfully ignored the fact that she tended to be a sleepy drunk).

But ss beautiful and serene as she looked, this was not an appropriate place for them to fall asleep, especially in their current state.

“Rose,” he said, caressing her cheek. “Rooooose.”

He lifted himself off of her, slipping out of her. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes cracked open. She blinked blearily a few times, then grinned up at him. “That was so fun.”

“Indeed it was,” he agreed.

“D’you come?”

He laughed out loud. “Yes, I did. Quite intensely. You didn’t notice? You can’t… you can’t feel the… ehm, evidence?”

“Can’t feel much of anything,” Rose responded with a shrug. “My whole body feels hot and tingly. My lady bits feel so good, James.”

“I’m glad.”

“C’mere,” she said, closing her eyes and reaching blindly for his arm. She tugged weakly, and whined when he didn’t lie down with her.

“We have to go to bed,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth.

“M’trying, but you’re being stubborn,” she said, continuing to yank on his arm.

“Rose, we’re naked on our couch. We’re very drunk and therefore probably going to sleep like a rock. D’you really want Ainsley and Sianin to catch us in the morning like this?”

“Stop being so log...lolgic… so smart,” she said, attempting to flick him but missing.

“You’ll thank me in the morning,” he said. “Come.”

“Already did,” she said sweetly, sticking her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Come to bed.”

“Oooh, can we do it again?” Rose asked, glancing up at him with dark eyes.

“If you don’t pass out on me first,” he said, even though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get hard again for another round of lovemaking. His body felt limp and exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up with the love of his life and never move again.

She blew a raspberry at him, but she squirmed around on the couch until she had enough leverage to sit up. She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched at the couch cushions.

“All right?” he asked.

“Room went all wibbly wobbly.”

He nodded, and waited for her to stop looking like she was going to collapse back against the couch.

“I drank too much,” Rose sighed.

“So did I,” he said. “It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm. I think I need help walking,” she confessed.

“Okay, up we get,” he said, getting to his feet. He wasn’t much steadier than she was, and he nearly lost his balance trying to pull her to her feet. She swayed, but stayed standing. “I’m gonna gather our clothes.”

“No, I don’t want clothes,” she said, grimacing. “S’too hot.”

“I’m picking them up so Ainsley and Sianin won’t see them,” he said. “Don’t need them knowing what their mum and dad got up to after they went to bed.”

“They prob’ly heard us,” Rose said.

“I was trying not to think of that, thanks,” he said dryly.

He had accepted the fact that Ainsley and Sianin often overheard their lovemaking, no matter how quiet they tried to be—though they were far from quiet this time, to his embarrassment. But it didn’t make it any less awkward to know that his children knew whenever he and Rose had sex. He hoped it didn’t disgust them too much.

“Do you think we have too much sex?” he asked, balling up their discarded clothes in one arm and wrapping his other around Rose.

“There’s no such thing, is there?”

He shrugged.

“Ja-aaaames.” Rose poked his temple. “What’s goin’ on in your brain?” She poked his temple again. “I love your brain but sometimes it’s stupid.”

He swatted her hand away before she accidentally hit his eye.

“I dunno. I guess I was just wondering if we were being inappropriate.” The words felt silly as soon as they left his mouth.

Rose stopped and turned so suddenly that it nearly sent them sprawling to the floor.

“We’re both consenting adults,” she said, frowning up at him.

“I know,” he said.

“We’ve been shaggin’ for… er…” Rose’s mouth moved silently as she ticked off her fingers. “Sixteen years. I think. Something like that. A lot of years. We’ve been shagging for a long time.”

“I know.”

“And we love each other. A lot. Hence all the shagging.”

“I know.”

Rose frowned. “So… what’s the problem?”

“Don’t people’s sex drives usually decline as they get older?” he asked. “Especially once kids come around?”

“Are you… what are you saying? Do you not want to have sex with me?”

“No! I mean, yes. Of course I want to have sex with you.”

“S’okay if you don’t. It’d make me really sad but I’d do it for you—or, rather, not do it with you—‘cos I love you a lot.”

“Rose, I love having sex with you,” he said, wishing he’d never brought this conversation up in the first place.

“And I love having sex with you,” she said, still frowning. “M’really confused. I think we are both way too drunk to be having this conversation. At least I’m way too drunk. I don’t even understand what you’re freaking out about.”

“I’m not freaking out,” he muttered petulantly. At her raised eyebrow, he admitted, “I think it’s because I’m drunk that I’m worrying about this.”

Finally, her frown softened and she turned into him. She looped her arms around his shoulders and hauled him down for a clumsy kiss. The kiss was far too short for his liking, but it felt nice nevertheless. When she pulled back, she said, “Stop thinking so hard. We have fantastic sex, so why should we ever stop? Eh? Getting laid every week is amazing. I highly recommend it to everyone.”

He giggled and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Oh, I love you. Thank you.”

“I love you, too. Don’t worry about normal, James. We’re not normal and we’ve never been normal. We have loads of sex which has made loads of babies, whom we love so very much that it makes you an excellent father which in turn makes me even hornier for you, which makes us have loads more sex.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” he snorted, smiling fondly at her. “But you forgot one key piece: seeing you being an excellent mum to our girls makes me hot and bothered for you, too.”

“It does?” she asked, blinking.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“What…? Why?”

“Why do you get hot and bothered whenever you see me being a good dad?”

“I dunno.”

“Same here. There’s probably some sort of biological or evolutionary answer that my drunk brain can’t quite come up with. Wanting to create offspring with a partner who will raise the young or something.”

“You get so fucking sexy when you talk science,” she said, staring at his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the wine talking,” he said, giving her waist a squeeze. “Come on. Let’s clean up and go to bed.”

After a bit of half-hearted grumbling, Rose followed James down the hall. They took turns in the loo cleaning up and brushing their teeth. James had the forethought to set glasses of water on each of their nightstands to try to combat the hangover they were sure to have when they woke up.

His body was heavy and numb when he collapsed into bed beside Rose. She draped herself across him and whispered, “You said we could do it again.”

The grin in her voice told him she wasn’t serious, but he poked her ribs anyway. She giggled into the darkness and tucked her face into his neck, sighing. “You’re a really great shag.”

“So are you,” he replied, words getting fuzzier in his head as his eyes refused to open. “The best shag in the world. Best soulmate in the world, too.”

“You’re such a sappy drunk,” she hummed, kissing the shell of his ear. “I like it.”

His retort died on his tongue as consciousness finally slipped away from him and he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When James and Rose awoke the following morning, it was with the anticipated headache—made worse by the sounds of two over-exuberant children—and only vague impressions of what had happened the night before.

[manggojooz]

Bad Timing (Part 2)

Prompt: In a relationship between two people, was it always meant to be ‘all or nothing’? 

pairing: Taehyung x reader

word count: 1.4k 

genre: angst

warnings: semblance of panic attacks; rescue dogs

comment: Feeling compelled to pursue this series a little but probably will just stick to using my secondary blog for now... 

A dog once fell in love with a dandelion. The dog knew that the dandelion may leave with the wind one day but the dog still chose to stay. 

Did the dog have it all? Or did it actually have nothing?

In your bedroom, you looked at the toy charm that you had gotten for him, which was clutched in your hand. It was a funny looking alien with a huge heart as its head. You had planned to see how Taehyung reacted to your “confession” and the escape plan was to say that this is a toy for Yeontan.  

Yet another premeditated disguise. You couldn’t own up, even to yourself, that you liked him. You constantly tried to disguise it and always reminded yourself that he was the popular guy and that there was no reason he would think of you specially. On hindsight, you realised that subconsciously you had always harboured some hopes.  

In reality though, everything was a concoction of your mind. You hardly hung out with Taehyung or his friends when in school. That is why you had no idea how he generally acted towards his friends, which most likely consequentially led to your misinterpretations of his actions. Was it his fault that you thought that way? It definitely wasn’t.  

Was it your fault then? Not that much either. During the past few months, you probably went through the emotional cycle of a rescue dog that had just been adopted. At the beginning you did not know what to do with the new-found attention given to you, were you supposed to like it? Then you started growing accustomed to it and eventually you started to develop feelings of your own.  

At that thought, you picked up the queer looking alien toy, and stuffed it into your drawer. “Out of sight, out of mind”, you thought as you shifted to lie down on your bed, having been exhausted since the moment you left that theatre.  

But you couldn’t calm your mind down. If the problem was all the while in your head, then you are the only one who can solve this problem. In order to do that, the first step was for you to face it. You sat up and looked at yourself in the mirror.  

Yes, you like him, more than just a friend but you were never one to pine over the popular kids in school. To the contrary, you had intentionally tried to keep a distance from them because you never felt like being a part of their world would do you any good. So why Taehyung?  

---

The sky was filled with storm clouds on the day when Lula was brought to the shelter. She was a shivering little westie, her fur was a shade of dark grey and she had a frail frame, alluding to the difficult times that preceded this moment. Despite all this, she remained cautiously friendly when you tried to clean her up. She reminded you so much of Snowy.  

While you tried to bathe Lula, you saw how her skin was inflamed from the condition she contracted in her neglected state. Little time was lost before you alerted Jinhee, the vet on site. You heard her little whines as Jinhee tried to ascertain her condition which made you felt as if something was swirling around in your chest; there was despair, there was regret and suddenly you found yourself shaking in the same way Lula was.  

The conspiring universe must have sensed your distress during that moment because as they would have it, thunder struck and the rain came pouring down. Lula was visibly afraid of the roaring thunders. Unfortunately, Jinhee had just left a moment ago to look for some medication and there you were, by yourself, in the vet’s room with a traumatised dog. In any other situation, you would have confidently tried to pacify Lula but not today. You were struggling to keep yourself afloat, having been sucked back into the memories you wished you did not recall.  

As if he heard your internal call for help or perhaps, he heard the weak yelps of desperation from Lula, Taehyung burst through the doors of the room. Strangely, Taehyung had a knack for calming the puppers who were afraid of thunder. He sat down next to Lula and started singing ever so softly while petting and stroking her back. As you listened to his low soothing voice, you felt your breathing slow down too, the tears which had collected in your eyes flowed out but your heart was slowly weaning off the feeling of fear and pain it was experiencing a moment ago. You cautiously looked up to meet Taehyung’s eyes, and he looked back at you with concern.  

“Are you alright? Did something happen just now?”, Taehyung asked you in a gentle unobtrusive manner when you two were leaving the shelter. Your eyes shifted from him to the road uncertainly and you stammered, “I … I was … it’s just that some time ago … she reminded me of...”, you started to sound increasingly distressed, evident from your shaking voice, which was quite a contrast from your usual demeanour.  

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N”, he called your name a few times in his still assuringly soft tone until you stopped stammering and looked up at him. “You don’t have to talk about it now if you don't want to. I thought you would want to talk about it but it’s fine. What’s more important to me... I mean, I just wanted to make sure you are feeling OK now”, Taehyung said as he stopped in front of you and placed his right hand gently on your shoulder.  

---

There was not one thing that you could specify but you liked him for his warm personality, for the comforting presence you felt when you were hanging out with him and for how he was sincerely trying to understand your feelings but never forcing you to face them when you were not prepared to. He was like a patient fosterer, ready to be your new best friend but at the same time being totally understanding that there are emotional vacuums which you may not want to touch even if he felt like he could help you with it.  

At last, however, it was never meant to be more than that. It was ablur now but you tried to recall what made you think that Taehyung may have some hint of feelings for you. In the end, it almost certainly was just all of your own feelings being superimposed over his actions which made you think that way. Just like how you thought the movie today was some kind of a “date”, when he actually just intended it to be a friendly meet up.  

Instantly, you felt like you wanted to outright burst into tears but you couldn’t because what was there even for you to cry over? Self-pity in a self-made situation was the last thing that you should indulge in. That said, when emotions and logic meet, emotions often prevail.  

Your eyes were already tearing up and you felt the mildly burning trail of your tears slowly trickling down your cheeks. You felt embarrassed, shameless and just genuinely annoyed at yourself.  

As logic slowly crept back into your mind, you scoffed a little at yourself. How long more were you going to act this way? There really wasn’t anything that happened that deserves this much despair over. In the end, it was all just nothing. Right?  

---

A dog once fell in love with a dandelion. The dog knew that the dandelion may leave with the wind one day but the dog still chose to stay. “It doesn’t matter what you see me as, a lover, a friend or just someone passing by in your life. I will not disturb you and I will not leave you, but if there comes a day and the wind carries you away, if that is what you wish for then I will watch you fly away.”

The types of relationships in this world are aplenty.  

You naively thought it had to be all or nothing. Now, you start to see that there were always other options, somewhere in between. Taehyung saw you as a friend. And you, began to think that you can do that for him too. At least for now, it will be something.

[literalcreativeidiot]

Reset. || November 17th, 2018.

“So how’s Stink doing? I miss the little fart machine.”

“He’s fine. I’ve slowly but surely weaned him off your scent so he’ll be good eventually.”

“And Princess?”

“Wouldn’t have noticed you were gone even if I went blue in the face telling her about it.”

“That’s my girl!”

It wasn’t the first time the two—Maxine and Derrick—walked the halls of the Staples Center during an event to just have idle chatter and “shoot the shit” as it were. However, this time was different. There was a sense of comforting realization that had swept over them as they walked through the busy halls during this day.

Derrick had always had a ritual when it came to the Takeover events that came 24 hours before one of the marquee pay-per-views. For some reason, he didn’t know why, he always liked to come by and take in the atmosphere as a quasi-fan/member of the writing staff that was just there to watch the process unfurl. Gave him a new perspective and, of course, free access to catering and one of the lush seating areas to watch the show in peace without being annoyed. Weird quirk that came from him being a fan all these years that he’d wanted to take in a show in the most fully immersive way he could without being amongst the chatter. Method to his madness so to speak. This was also the first time the two of them walked the halls of an arena together since her departure.

They had talked it over for a while—her potentially leaving the company after her many years of service to go be part of something she always wanted to do. And when that opportunity came, she leapt at it, though not without a decent level of consternation. If before, she couldn’t dream of leaving then why did she jump on the first thing screaming out of town? Especially if it meant being away from her beloved. And why wouldn’t he create much of a stink about it and readily resign himself to them being, essentially, bicoastal in a long-distance relationship? Sketchy, but they never really shared the details with everyone.

“So how’ve you been? I know it’s been like...a month or so since you were out here and we haven’t really talked all that much because work but still. How are you?” Maxine said, folding her arms underneath her chest as she stood in front of him.

“Doing what I do best: working, listening to true crime documentaries and trying to figure out if I can finagle my way into tax exempt status.” Derrick joked, the corners of his mouth peeking up with a grin. “But for real, I’m good, though. Haven’t had an episode or drank too much to the point where I say too much about anything. Really, just taking shit one day at a time as per usual.”

“So basically you haven’t spiraled. That’s good to hear; makes me feel better and I don’t have to worry as much.” She said, sliding a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I see how you dealt with things.” He said, reaching his hand out to swipe his fingers over the deep dark red-colored bangs that hung over her forehead. “Cutting your own bangs...again. Wise move.”

She shook her head vehemently as a means to move from his hand, letting out a laugh at his assertion. “What, I’m the only one who makes rash choices with their hair? I got annoyed, briefly, and did it, saw the result, freaked out for like fifteen minutes and then I decided the best course of action was to distract people from it by wearing low cut tops and tilting my head at different angles. Hats are the next option!”

“You can’t put a big floppy hat on everything and expect it to just not catch everyone’s attention. It doesn’t work that way.” Derrick responses with a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Try me, okay? It can happen.”

It was something that he admired in her, the irrational confidence she had that she could do and pull off mostly anything. Made it easier to shrug things off if and when they went awry and to celebrate when it went as planned. Method to the madness, as one would say.

“So how are things back over there? Neighbors haven’t noticed I was gone all that much?” Maxine asked as the two took a seat at an empty table in the concession area, far enough away so people wouldn’t be interrupting their conversation all that much.

“Things are fine; Halloween was a mess. One of the houses got tagged with the phrase, ‘I wouldn’t fuck her with Elvis’ dick’.” He stated, shoulders bouncing up and down as he tried to contain his laughter.

“Oh, God—was it the Johnson Twins?” She beamed with a laughter, reaching a hand out to rest on his forearm.

“Of course it was the Johnson Twins. They’re the only ones who would do something that incredibly dumb.”

There were a few beats of silence that was gradually getting drowned out by the typical mix of chatter that came from people congregating in the arena. It allowed the two of them to look at each other with seemingly pleasant expressions on their faces, taking the time to collect their thoughts.

“So….have you told anyone yet?” She asked after clearing her throat, turning her head and scratching the back of her neck.

“You mean outside of Dad, Melinda, Casey, and Kat? Nope. Not a single word. Not yet at least.”

“Derrick.” She chastised him playfully, giving him a look that could best be described as ‘what the fuck’.

“What?! I don’t need to tell everyone about everything. They’ll know when I feel the time in right.” He offered up a shrug, drumming his fingertips along the surface of the table. “Who knows; I could easily go into the New Year if I’m determined enough.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Maxine shook her head at his attempt at justification. She knew he had a knack for doing this sort of thing. Being evasive when he didn’t need to for reasons that were beyond her after all these years.

“So you’re just gonna not tell people that we haven’t been a thing for close to two and a half months and that’s why I moved to Burbank in addition to me getting this new job?”

“Yeah because I’m weird like that. And because I don’t wanna cause there to be speculation and hearsay. Y’know, typical high school nonsense that I’m too old for.”

The nonchalant nature of the two of them confirming their separation wasn’t exactly something shocking to either of them if the people who knew them well enough took it as any indication. Having seen each other and how they were after disastrous breakups, the fact that neither of them were on the verge of real self-destructive behavior was a sign to both of them that they were somehow at peace.

Like skipping all the prior stages of grief just to get to the acceptance stage.

“They’re gonna find out eventu—you’re totally planning on just showing up one day with a new girlfriend and act like it’s a Tuesday.” Maxine stated, remembering the last time he pulled that move back in their early twenties.

“It worked before. And as long as questions aren’t asked, it’ll work again. I know you don’t go to church but have faith.”

“Mister ‘I tell people I go commando at home’ isn’t gonna divulge who he’s been fucking? Who are you, and what have ya dun with muh Derrick?” Maxine said, peppering the last statement with the faux-concerned Southern Belle accent that caused both of them to laugh.

“What, you want me to just up and say the nitty gritty of everything? Give them the ol’ Inside The Actors Studio about my dating life? C’mon, Max.”

“I don’t mean give them the blow-by-blow analysis but yeah, tell folks so they’re not left wondering or assuming shit.”

“And to think, we could’ve signed NDA’s about this whole thing, Max.”

She shook her head in response with a laugh and a smile, noting that he really couldn’t turn that bit of charm off him even if he tried. They stayed silent for a few seconds, letting whatever laughter die down so they could ease their way back into conversation.

“....is it weird that I’m not feeling torn up inside about all of this?” She inquired, biting at the corner of her bottom lip as her eyes settled on his. It was as if she was doing her best to search in his eyes to find the answer she was looking for. Trying to get a read on him before he could say anything.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing. Makes me not feel as weird for not wanting to go into a breakup depression spiral. Is this how normal, functioning adults handle the end of their relationships?”

“No, most of them get into a bitter divorce battle that crippled them financially and makes them hate the person they professed to love in the eyes of the Lord.” Maxine answered with a shrug.

“Well, that’s a damn shame. For them anyway.”

To them, it was good that they were at least able to find a way to joke about this like it was a normal thing. It was a coping mechanism that they hadn’t grown out of since they knew each other and wasn’t something they were going to shy away from, especially during such a time of uncertainty between the two of them. Whatever small laughter there was between them had settled into another few beats of that uneasy silence most people would try to fill with witty banter or small talk.

“For the record, I’m not bitter or harboring resentment toward you.” Derrick begun to say, setting her head perk up to look at him as she had spent the last few moments blankly staring at her left hand. They never really wore their wedding rings outside of special occasions but they had both been feeling the nakedness of it not being on their ring finger for the past number of weeks. “I don’t hate you—don’t even think I’m capable of hating you. I mean if we were having this conversation six months ago, I think you and I would feel completely different than we do now and wouldn’t easily find our way to a comfort zone like we have.”

“Well, six months ago, there probably would’ve been a fight and both of us saying something we didn’t mean and accelerating the process by months instead of what we did: Try to navigate why we were feeling the way we felt until we came to the ultimate conclusion.”

“That that romantic love we once had and were running on—that flame burnt out when we weren’t looking. Sucks but it happens even if you try to stop it from happening.”

“We took the path less traveled. The one that didn’t lead into a belligerent shouting match on the front lawn of a house in a Long Island suburb. Guess that counts for something, huh?” Maxine rhetorically asked, face scrunched up with a small smile. She reached out to grab his wrist, flipping it over to reveal the matching tattoo they had gotten over a decade ago in correspondence to the one she had in the same area. Her thumb lightly grazed over the scar that his tattoo had been covering, biting at the corner of her lip. “You won’t be able to get rid of me all that easy; you know that, right? I’ll always be with you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, Red.” He replied with a knowing smirk, uttering the same nickname he gave her when they first met. “Even though we live on opposite ends of the country, I’m still a phone call or text away. You know that. For anything: If you wanna talk about your day, tell me about some adventure you took in San Fernando Valley, boyfriend troub—well, no. Not boyfriend troubles. At least not yet; that’d be weird.”

She first responded with a laugh, shaking her head from side to side as her other hand covered her face slightly.

“No, I definitely won’t be calling you up to talk about boy troubles and likewise, I don’t think you’ll do the same with whatever girl or girls decide they wanna make your life hell. More postcards from places you visited, though. I liked the ones you sent over from Manchester. But yes, the feeling is mutual; one call or text away, like always.”

“Like always. Despite everything else, that? That won’t ever change, I promise.”

“Of course.”

They weren’t going to lie to each other. By the seemingly sudden (to people who knew them anyway) nature of their separation, things were going to change in their lives much like it did two years ago when they first got together and wanted to see what it all meant for them to give it the ol’ college try. But in the end, they found that they couldn’t fake it with one another long enough to “right the ship” as it were. In the end, it became the sobering wake up call the two of them needed.

He remembered the conversation as clear as day. Hell, they both did. A semblance of dancing around the fact that neither of them were feeling the same way they did before. That madly in love feeling had dissipated before their very eyes and they didn’t know how or what to do to prevent the slow moving avalanche from already gaining steam. Like most things, once the levees break, there’s no real chance at fixing the leak in the dam.

Tears flowed during that conversation, reminiscing about fun times they had had together that were fleeting quickly. And then, in relative silence, they worked to make the landing for each other as smooth as possible, the last vestiges of two people who loved one another beyond being husband and wife, the two best friends that had known each other for over a decade. It sucked but in many ways, for them, it was therapeutic more than anything else, really. Far more than they wanted to admit anyway.

They had both gotten up from their seats to embrace in a hug, quietly enjoying the close warmth of one another once more until they could see each other again in the future. She rubbed his back and shut her eyes, nodding as he kept his arms locked around her waist.

“You take care of yourself, alright?” Derrick uttered as he looked at her, hands resting on her hips. “If you need anything, just call.”

“Okay. I will. And you don’t worry so much. Don’t overthink shit and keep your head above the clouds, okay? Wouldn’t wanna have to straighten you up again.” Maxine uttered jokingly, shaking her head at him.

“I’ll replace all my worries with true crime factoids and even more useless information.”

“So more doubling down, eh? On brand behavior.”

With shared chuckles, they departed from their embrace—almost unceremoniously, really. There wasn’t really much for either of them to say afterwards; what was done is done and all they had left was to go on with the next phase of their lives. Her, heading to another part of the building, possibly leaving, and him going off to do his usually pre-show scrounging. And really, that’s how it had to be.

The reset button had been hit by the two of them, from once a couple back to the best of friends again, though there’s the not-so small wrinkle of the last two and a half years of their lives being so intertwined with one another. Whatever the case may be, things were different. They were different and they both went about accepting that as their immediate truth.

[footballffbarbiex]

Happily Ever After.

Wanting to relax before his life changes following a signing to Dortmund, Roman heads to Ibiza for a week or so of sun, sea and fun. What he isn’t expecting is for his life to change in ways he could never have anticipated. 

Warnings: fluff, hella fluff, strong language, angst, smut.

Word count: 75,172  Status: ongoing. Read ahead on patreon. 

__________________________________

Dive. Roman wants a date but she really doesn’t want anything to do with him.

Texts From Roman. Pt 1. 

Drunk Texts. 

Funfair. Roman goes to the funfair for their first date  

Come On-A My House. Roman stays over for the first time.

Public.  Roman takes her out for a meal but she has just one request.

In The Dark.  Roman and their friends had a night in with alcohol and cards against humanity. Fuelled by alcohol, Roman decides to be brave.

Christmas Crackers. When they spend the holidays with their own families, they decide to have an early Christmas with just the two of them. 

Family Inquisition. When Roman’s girlfriend takes him to meet her family, he isn’t expecting such an open family.

Never Be The Same.   She realises just how deep she is. 

Memory Lane.   Roman takes his girlfriend home to meet the parents and shows her around.

Say Yes.  Roman’s feeling brave and wants to take the plunge.

Breakfast.  Still unable to believe he now has a fiancé, Roman wakes up happy and after something else to eat...

The Signs.    Roman really wants a baby.

Haunted.   She takes Roman on a paranormal walk.    

Wedding Planning.   The only thing Roman really wants to take part in is the cake testing.

Do I?   It’s the days leading up to the wedding and it’s not looking good.

I Do. Roman can’t wait to get her get down the aisle.

Pinch Me. When life begins as Mrs Burki, she has to take a moment for a reality check. 

Honeymoon. Sun, sea, alcohol and a whole lotta sex.

Back To Reality. Roman’s girlfriend has some big news for him. 

Break Down.  Reality finally hits him that Roman’s going to be a dad. 

Nice And Quiet.  Roman is set on annoying her.

News. Part 1.   *warnings are applicable* She can’t believe what’s she’s watching unravel on every news station. 

Revelations. Part 2. *warnings are applicable*  Everything comes pouring out.

Early Labour.   Roman tries to distract her. 

Hi, Daddy.   Roman finally meets beanie.

You’re So Beautiful…To Me.   Roman’s wife is shying away from him. When he finds out her insecurities, he does everything he can to make her feel better.  

The Baby Blues.  *warnings are applicable*  They quickly realise that being parents is hard work.

Better Now.   Or are they?

Someone You Loved. Roman is devastated but accepts her decision.

Who’s Loving You?   Roman sees her with someone new.

 The Ice Queen.  Roman does everything in his power to remind her why they started in the first place.

 Tonight.  Their first time since they split.

 Playgroup. Roman’s wife has to go to work for a meeting leaving Roman to take their toddler to a baby playgroup. 

 Weaning And Walking.  Roman and his wife starts the weaning process and it’s trickier than they thought. 

One Year Later.  She waits at home as Roman goes to court.

 Lap Of Honour.  Roman’s wife takes their baby to a match and Roman can’t help but show her off.  

 Three More Sleeps.  Roman’s daughter is closing off with him gone. 

Bedtime Stories.  Roman’s daughter isn’t ready to sleep just yet.

Bed Hopping.  His wife wakes up, again, to an empty bed. 

Has He Been? It’s their daughters first Christmas where she knows what’s going on. Will Santa visit?

Tea Party.  Roman has the day to himself and spends it with his daughter. 

The Birthday Party.  It’s their daughters birthday and Roman wants everything to go perfectly. 

Nightmares.  When their daughter has a nightmare, they do all they can to settle her.

It’s Like Riding A Bike.  Roman teaches his daughter how to ride her bike without stabilisers

Ballet.  Their daughter has taken an interest in ballet and Roman wants to make sure everyone knows how proud he is of his little dancer.

The Bedroom Fort.  When Roman’s wife goes away, he realises his daughter may not be the daddy’s girl he always thought she was.

The Second Honeymoon.  But will it help make them fall back in love like they once were?

Dance With Me. Leah has a big dance ahead of her, but she’s positive she’ll never find the perfect dress. Unbeknown to her, daddy has already taken care of everything.

Broody.  Whilst tidying away Leah’s clothes that are now too small, Roman’s wife begins to imagine the sound of tiny feet again.

Christmas Wishes. The only thing their daughter wants for Christmas is a sibling

[thehalfworld]

Fanfic MST: Forbiden Fruit: The Tempation of Edward Cullen, a Twilight fanfic [part 3]

I have to warn you all that this chapter has a rape scene in it. It’s completely ridiculous, and I really don’t know if that makes it better or worse. Proceed with caution.

Recap: Edward gave into tempation and tried putting the moves on Tiaa. She went along with it at first, but then pushed him away because they were in public and Edward already has a girlfriend. Edward seems to think Tiaa is a vampire, even though she doesn’t appear to be and his thinking she is doesn’t really make sense. 

Chapter 1 Previous chapter

AN - hi guys hope u like this one im quite proud of it! 

That’s a bit worrying.

thanx for the suport from my frends love u girls!glad u like it! oh an VINCENT ur so dumb of course tiaa didnt go to math in only her bra shes not a total ditz! 

Hey, you never said she put her shirt back on! Actually, you also described Edward ripping it off her, and we know it’s made out of fishnet, so… I kinda doubt she still has a shirt left to put back on.

one more time...DONT READ IF U DNT LIKE IT!

I can’t imagine not liking this story. I’m being serious. It’s a masterwork. It’s right up there with “My Immortal” in my eyes.

NO frickin flames what is the POINT of flamin ppl there is NO POINT so f off!

I think the point is to annoy the author. Which appears to be working.

Capter 3 – uncle larry

Wow! Really looking forward to the capter!

I sa t alone watching tv at dave and maries house. I couldnt stop thinking about my encounter with Ewdard Cullen earlier that day. He was so beuatifull and sexoy with such amazing hair and eyes I could hardly believe he had notice someone like me! 

Just me or is she a tad fixated on his hair?

Also… Tiaa isn’t the sort of girl who blends in, and she knows it. She’s aware that she’s pretty and she’s used to getting attention — both positive and negative — because of her looks. She’s also loud (she yelled at Edward when he bumped into her), and she dresses in a manner that… well, let’s just say most small-town high school students don’t dress like Tiaa. This girl isn’t ordinary and she’s well aware of it. Why the false modesty?

But I was angry at how he had made me feel, how I'd burnt like crimson hot flame wean he touched me and how he'd not listened to me when id' told him to fring off, and how he dared to touch me at all when he had a GF anyways, even if she was a mean girl with an ugly heart and not that hawt. 

Not only has she not met Bella yet, she hasn’t heard anyone talk about Bella either, so I don’t know how she came to the “she’s a mean girl with an ugly heart” conclusion.

But nomatter how much I try to hate him, I simply couldn't. Suddenly the phone range

"hello "

"hey, is that altantiana?"

"yah who is this?" I aksed.

"its Mike nooton from your class! 

She hasn’t met Mike yet either, unless that happened in the deleted scenes or something. I guess, if he called her house phone, that he could have got Dave and Marie’s number out of the school directory… but this seems a little weird if they’ve literally never met.

I was wondering if your wanted to go to La Plush with me too morrow night maybe? 

To clarify, he is talking about a beach. He means La Push. Stuffed animals are probably not involved.

Theres a party on the beech with whole crowd of us going and I thought you seemed relay nice so I thought maybe youd want to me my date please? -

I can maybe buy that a high school boy is desperate enough to ask a random pretty girl to a party with him in the hopes that maybe it’ll kindle some sort of romance, but this is a really bad way to go about it. Asking out a girl you’ve never met is… not the best plan. Why not just frame it as inviting her along because she’s a new student and it would be a good opportunity for her to hang out and make friends? You don’t have to be explicit about your crush before you’ve even had a conversation with her.

Also I think Mike is already dating Bella’s friend Jessica, but fuck her, I guess.

"arent you the guy who hangs out with all the pathetic chearleaders and stuff?" I asked

"you mean bella and jessica's gang? 

I’m gonna wait a bit to talk about how weird it is that Bella is hanging with a “gang” of cheerleaders, but like… why does Tiaa know Mike hangs out with them? Again, this is their first conversation, and (as far as we know) the first time she’s even heard of him.

Sometimes I guess but theyr'e way shallow and not as hot as you. 

He’s maybe undermining his own point there.

And they can be mean sometimes.-"

So… like anyone, then?

"then why do hang out white them then you shallow CREEP!and why are you askin me out when you harely no me mike! Cos u think im' hot? Why cant you see your just as shallow if you want to date someone just cost of what they look like - I'm not THAT pretty anyways! 

Oh, Tiaa, you and I were on the same page until you pulled the fake modesty card. Besides, isn’t this a bit of an overreaction? He asked you to hang out with him at the beach, it’s not like he’s proposing marriage or anything.

And even if i was, I'm SO screwed up in the bran you cant even imagine! u would no want to date me if you new how screwed up I was!"

What exactly does she mean by “screwed up in the brain bran”? Like, are we talking legitimate mental illness, or is this just teenage angsting? And, in either case, what exactly is her problem that makes her undateable? This is about the vaguest possible rejection, and I don’t know if she’s implying something is actually wrong with her or that she’s just Not Like Other Girls.

"I would, tia, beleive me I would! Your so beautiful you cant even imagine. Your so pretty people lose there minds when your around and forget there names and forget to brethe! 

That’s your only reason? She’s pretty? Weren’t you saying something about cheerleaders being shallow a minute or two ago?

How can't you have noticed that? 

Decent point, actually. If your character is dropping jaws and turning heads with her beauty, either she’s aware she’s beautiful or there’s a reason she doesn’t realize. Like… maybe Tiaa thinks the people staring at her are doing so because of how she dresses, not because they think she’s pretty. Tiaa has actually seemed pretty aware of her effect on others throughout, though, so unless she’s just playing modest around Mike for some reason this scene doesn’t make any sense.

And I don't CARE how screwed up you are! It only maked you more interesting! 

He’s not even gonna ask for clarification on that?

Your cool and different and you are honest about stuff! you are right to be angry with me. I'm sorry for benign shallow and dumb just give me a chance to show you how much I care, please? "

The argument he’s making would probably be way more convincing if this wasn’t, you know, their first conversation ever.

"well...ok maybe ill go along if I dont have anything else to do" i said, not believing a word he said about how pretty i was.

Oh, come on.

"thank you altantiana thank you so much!" he sounded so happy I couldnt help but smile as I put the phone down but my smile faded as I return to my thoughts. Mike Nooton was kinda cute and seemed like an ok guy but he was nothing next to Ewdard Cullen. 

Yeah, I guess when compared to the weird dude who tried to fuck you in a locker room and threw a shirt at your head Mike really isn’t worth a second thought.

Even though I was anger with edward than I have ever been with anyone in my life and part of me wanted to chop his head off with a sore, a part of my soul would all ways remain in that coridoor where we had kissed so hard and passionably. 

My mistake, they were in a hallway, not a locker room. Not sure if that’s better or worse, but, depending on how busy that hallway normally is, it’s probably worse.

I creamed myself. 

Didn’t need to know that.

My heart had soared that day like never before, and i new that no one else would ever make me feel like that again, then I thought how he was a cheater and a bastard and my face burnt with shame. I couldn't beleive I had behaved like such a hore. 

I mean… she didn’t, really. She went along with his advances up to a point, and it doesn’t really show good judgement on her part, but he was the one acting like a “hore” in this situation. Putting the moves on a random girl in a public space when you’ve already got a girlfriend? Keep it classy, dude.

I was scared of the affect he had on me.

Effect. “Affect” is a verb. Nice sentence otherwise.

(Okay, if you’re a grammar pedant, “affect” isn’t always a verb… it can also be a noun, when we’re talking in a psychology context, which Tiaa isn’t.)

"bye tiaa! We'll be back on Thursday ok?" mari put her head rind the door suddenly

"Ok then, have fun" I wispered clammily..dave and marie where visiting relatives for a few day.

Convenient. Two less characters for the author to have to deal with.

Wait, no, oh my god, I just remembered what happens in this chapter.

"you look so pretty" she says, smiling -your the prettiest gril i've ever seen!”

I… okay, that’s some natural dialogue.

"omg whatever" I reply. I hated it wen people say that. 

Come on, girl, it’s just a compliment! Not like she’s hitting on you! At least I hope not.

I pulled my blond hair over my face. I was wearin a short hot pink dress cut low with black lace frills at the bottom and black lace stocking.

I kind of like that Tiaa is a goth girl who likes bright pink. There are plenty of real-life goth girls like that, but you pretty much never see them in fanfiction.

"daves brother larry will be looking after you wile where gone you'll be ok when where gone wont you tiaa? I hate to leaven you alone like this!"

You know “leaven” is what you do to bread to make it rise, right?

"i don't need a freakin babysiter u no!" i was so embarasing, I could look after myself!

Freudian slip? I mean, she is pretty embarrassing.

Marie smiles and leaves the house.

Marie doesn’t give a fuck, it seems.

"greeting a;latnaniana my names uncle larry" said uncle larry, he came in threw the door he was fat and bald with tiny black eyes and a red face

You know he’s a bad guy because he’s ugly. That’s how it works!

"Hey - i said

"your the orphan arent you" he says "is it true you kiled your mother when she gave birth to you?”

Nice to meet you too, Uncle Larry.

"Wat!" I cry, my eyes filling with tears

"your an evil bich arent u? Go outsite and wash my car" he shouts angerly

I’ve just thought of a fun game. There are five more chapters left. Let’s all place bets on which chapter Uncle Larry will get horribly murdered in.

I stood up and left to wash his car. I got soap and a bucket, afraid of what he would do if I refuzed. I went outside and started to wash hush car it was a red porche. He came outside and wached me and I new he was waching me! 

I know the implication is he’s watching her in a pervy way, but if I was making someone wash my car and I didn’t particularly like them I’d keep an eye on them too.

After a minite he came over and hit me hard across the face

"wft!" i shouted

What Fuck The?

He poored the bucket of water all over me and hit me again,. I was wet and crying and he started to rip my dress and bra of me and rip my clothes. He touched my naked breats and I try to push him off me I screamed at him to stop but he did'nt. He bent me over the bonet of his car and spanked me on the ass for half an hour then he pulled my panties down and started to rape me!

I really don’t want to be laughing at a rape scene, because rape is one of those things that’s just inherently unfunny, but… this is testing me. I mean, an entire half hour of spanking? The dramatic announcement that he began raping her after he forcibly stripped her naked and spanked her for thirty minutes, as if this is a surprise? The fact that all of this is happening in plain view of any neighbors Dave and Marie might have? Good lord. I truly do not know how to react.

I also have to wonder why Tiaa makes little attempt to fight back here. It’s pretty reasonable to freeze up when you’re violently attacked, but Tiaa has proven that she’s both capable and willing to fight off anyone she perceives as a threat (kung fu babie!) previously in the story. Is Uncle Larry too physically powerful for her to win against? We don’t really know how big he is compared to her, and Tiaa has been described as strong and fast previously. Both of them are unarmed, and, if there are neighbors, the noise should alert someone to what’s going on (Tiaa has been shouting/screaming throughout). Why is he getting away with all this? Oh, right, plot reasons.

"stop raping me!" I cry but he didnt stop! 

Shocker.

The pain was terrible even tough his manhood was small. 

Didn’t need to know about his dick, thanks!

I cryed and cryed but he didnt stop for hours and when he finally stopped he left me on the floor and spat in my face and left me there. 

Wait… hours? This guy has impressive stamina.

I pulled on my clothes and cryed madly and ran off into the seething darkness of the midnight street. I ran and ran un till I came to some woods and then I fell down in the woods and cryed.

“Seething darkness of the midnight street” is a pretty good phrase, actually. I mean, super cheesy and doesn’t really mean anything, but if this was lyrics some alt-rock band wrote I’d accept it.

Suddenly a blast of white light exploded in head and my mark on my hand burned like a flame. I closed my eyes and saw the face of a tall white man looking over me with no expression, his eyes were burning red and his face glimmered cold and bright as the moon,. 

It was… VLODEMONT AND DA DETH DEALERS!

I fell back from the brightness of his body, his hair was dark as night,.

It was… VOLSEMORT IN A WIG AND DA DEATH DEELRS!

"atlantiana?" he whisperd in a voice softer than clouds -my daughter?-

Well, we all saw that one coming a mile off.

"omg" I whisperd as my mind went blank and the world went dark.

I hope she whispered the acronym instead of saying “oh my god.” Her dad will be totally confused! Old people don’t know how acronyms work!

Next chapter

[mybumpbirthandbeyond]

Sticks and Stones

To all the women who comment on how feed my baby, or ask whether I'm due another, or pass judgment when my baby is put down in the changing rooms and can’t keep their comments to themselves, this one is for you. After all, why seek advice from those close to you or those you trust, when you can be offered unsolicited and unwanted advice from a perfect stranger?!

I never used to care what people think. Yes I would get annoyed or pissed when someone said something and probably have a rant, but I was brought up to be polite so most of the time was so shocked if someone was rude, I was stunned into silence. Since becoming a mum, I hate this part because now I constantly seem to wonder what people think. He screams when I burp him ‘I promise I'm doing this to help him.’ I give him a dummy - ‘that will cause problems with his teeth and speech;’ I put him in on his own early and I started weaning him earlier - ‘that’s not what the guidelines say.’ Why do I care?! I’m Cailean’s mum, I know what’s best for him and it’s up to me. 

Most of the people I refer to in the introduction are, sadly for them, old boots as I like to call them. In their 60′s plus who believe they have a right to comment or judge. They don’t actually do anything to help or support, they would prefer to give their opinion or even criticise. Take for example an instance at Waterbabies. There are around (or were) about 8 of us in the class. All mummies who have babies no younger than 12 weeks. Whether it’s our first, second etc doesn’t really matter. Now I have been extremely lucky to have Alex there 6/7 classes so there’s someone in the water with Cailean, and then the other person dries him. I’ve only been in the changing room dripping wet and trying to get Cailean dried and dressed on my own once. Most of the mums in my class have done that every single class and I take my hat off to them - you’re wet and freezing but you don’t even look at a towel until the baby is dried and dressed. The changing room was practically empty and I decided to try and put the swimwear in the drying machine. Cailean was in the middle of this central part of the changing room which was circular and we used to change all the babies. I was 1, maybe 2 feet from him watching him the whole time.This old lady then raised her eyebrow at me quizzed me on ‘is he not rolling yet? I wouldn’t be leaving him like that.’ As my mum pointed out, why couldn’t she have offered to watch him to help me?! Knowing I was on my own?! I was quite blunt: “No he’s not and I’ll worry about that when he can.” My polite way of saying sod off you stupid old woman!! In the same changing room a week later, another old cow reported my friend to the manager for putting the nappy in the wrong bin. I mean really?!?! Give us a bloody break!!! 

There is a lot more about social media now about ‘bump shaming.’ People commenting on the size, shape etc of a pregnant woman’s bump. “You’re tiny;” “You’re huge;” “Are you sure it’s not twins?!” “You’re going to go early.” I always got the latter three but I wasn’t particularly bothered as I knew I was big for my frame. The irony is, I was on track to have a 7lb 10oz baby on the 7th of April, and that's exactly what happened. An average size baby (though quite long) born on his due date. However, as much as I liked my midwife, I think I've previously mentioned that she described my bump as weird. I was certainly a bit uneasy with this description, given my midwife is close to retirement. She suggested that this might be the way I carry all my children. When she saw me after Cailean was born, she said she couldn’t understand where he was hiding, as it wasn’t as if he was particularly small. It didn’t really occur to me that the ‘big/weird’ bump would actually cause me any real problems.

If I was described as ‘star’ in labour, then I can only be described as an epic failure in postpartum recovery.  Everything had gone so well, there had to be something to bite me on the ass.

I think I previously mentioned I was seen by two community midwives the day after I came home from hospital. One was clearly more experienced than the other. While she saw to Cailean, her colleague checked me. When she felt my stomach, she frowned and went to get her colleague. Her colleague felt my stomach and gave a nod - “yes you can feel all the way down to the intestine and bowel. Were you told about muscle separation?” I explained yes but only at  36 weeks. “I'll drop in a tubi grip for you to wear during the day until your 6 week check.” I asked do I have to see physio? “No this should be fine until you see your GP but if you do, they’ll refer you.” Okay then.

I had been experiencing back pain which is no doubt caused by the lack of abdominal muscles to support my lower back. As I have described, I have a diastasis recti which is where the abdominal muscles have separated due to pregnancy. The abs are the only muscles designed specifically to separate, in order to accommodate a baby and the uterus during pregnancy, The human body is amazing and I don’t think you fully appreciate how amazing until you’ve been pregnant and given birth. However, sometimes the muscles don’t return to normal after pregnancy and leave a gap. The gap is measured in fingers - how many fingers are there between the left and right side post birth. It’s also measured in depth.

As you can probably guess, mine is massive. It wasn’t measured accurately until I saw physio and did a 121 Pilates session. I could tell it wasn’t great when I was in the bath - I could put my hand on my tummy and it just keep going and going down as I pressed. It seemed to have a life of its own in the water but hearing from the midwife that it was all the way to my intestine was rather shocking. I knew I couldn’t do anything until I saw my doctor at my 6 week check and hoped they could tell me more.

Just for anyone who has high expectations for the 6 week GP check - being the only check you get specifically for you and not your baby - don’t. My GP didn’t have a clue why I was there. I was allocated the standard 10 minute appointment everyone gets, and I had to tell her what I wanted checked. When I said I wanted referred to a pelvic health physio, she seemed to not know how to do this. She said ‘I suppose I'll just write a letter?’ You really do experience the best care during pregnancy and labour and immediately after birth. After that it’s all downhill from there!! 

I didn’t want to any exercise at all until I had seen a physio. Lots of people offered advice and exercises they did to reduce the gap etc, but I wasn’t prepared to do anything until I was seen by a professional, as I wanted to exercise safely. I had hoped to see my physio in July (3 months after I gave birth), but had to wait until the end of the month. I had booked a 121 Pilates session and was told some things that were safe to do. It’s all relative, but that instructor assessed me at 5 fingers, telling me it was likely to be 6-9 months minimum to get back to normal. It would be a long process but I would probably benefit from joining a class with the owner who was post-natally trained. 

I saw my physio shortly after. Her assessment was even more grim. My gap was 7.5 FINGERS WIDE and not just that, very deep. She could get her hand pressing down past her knuckles into my stomach. She measured it from the top to the bottom where my uterus would have been. She even brought another issue to my attention - I had an umbilical hernia and my belly button would now stick out until I had it fixed. I felt like I could cry. Yet another issue that was rearing it’s ugly head now I had given birth. Oh and the likelihood would be I would need surgery, but a General Surgeon would probably only agree to do it after I had finished having children. It might go down as my stomach did, but might not. Fabulous!

She said given how bad it was, this recovery would be at least 9 months - 1 year to try and get the gap closed as much as possible, as there was no guarantee it would go back completely. She asked was I not seen on the postnatal ward, and why was I not referred by my midwives. I explained it wasn’t even really picked up until weeks before I gave birth and then I was given a tubi grip. She was disgusted. It sounded like I had been royally shafted, judging by her comments. I should have been seen at the hospital, and at the very least, I should have been referred by my community midwives and not had to wait until my GP check. A tubi grip (unsurprisingly) had done very little if nothing at all for me and she was appalled. I told her how I thought I had a strong core, considered myself a fit person and had no idea why this had happened. She told me that despite how bad the separation was, she could tell I had strong obliques (the muscles on the side of your abdomen) and despite how strong I felt my core was, it could happen anyway. She asked me what I did at the gym and what I wanted to get back to. I explained I regularly did HIIT and cardiovascular classes and exercises. I think given the way I had fallen through the net, and my clear fitness prior to my diastasis, she immediately told me she would see me the following week but would give me exercises to do in the meantime. It was almost like she wanted to get me started as quickly as she could to get me back to recovering. I was to do the exercises 4 times a week, then also go to my Pilates class.

She also measured my stomach. 90 cm circumference, even 3 months after giving birth. That hurt. I always had in my head that I would be one of the people who sprung back to my original size post-pregnancy. I hadn’t put on any weight other than my bump and although it was massive, I genuinely was all bump and nothing else. People I saw who put on loads of weight were literally in their jeans pre-pregnancy a couple of weeks later. I have no idea if this is coincidence or not, or whether this plays any part in it, but I've found anyone I know that has a C-section seems to be back to their pre-pregnancy size quicker. It may be pure coincidence of the people I've met, but that’s just my experience. As they say though, every pregnancy is different, so even with the same mum, two pregnancies might be entirely different. 

The following week when I saw my physio, she measured me again and I had already gone down 2 cm in tummy size to 88 cm. She said the gap was still as bad, but that wasn’t unusual given it had just been 1 week. She said the tension even from standing appeared better. She gave me a few more exercises and I was up to 6 exercises within a week. When I saw her next, I measured 86.5cm and the gap was slowly starting to close. It’s still massive across the middle, but dropped to 3.5 fingers at the top, 3 at the bottom, and was still measuring 4.5 in the middle. This is just going to be it now for the foreseeable future - physio every few weeks and exercises and Pilates every week. 

Sometimes it’s too much to do physio and Pilates in the same day but that’s unfortunately when all my appointments fall due to my physio’s hours, coupled with the only Pilates class that had any space. Pilates has been great. The instructor is so knowledgeable, and has taken the time to really know my treatment from the physio so she can modify my exercises in class accordingly. It is frustrating however. I did boxing training, body combat, functional, circuits etc previously at the gym. I could do full press-ups, planks, sit ups, the lot. Now in Pilates, any time I hear the word ‘plank’ or ‘engage your core’ I sit still until I get my own exercise. Don’t get me wrong, I have to engage my core, but I can’t overdo it because essentially there is no core there.

I’ve been asked if it hurts. Generally, it doesn’t. However, there are times, like with any muscle worked, I can be easily fatigued, or I can get cramps after working hard. I can’t lift anything too heavy. (Try telling that to my growing baby!!) When I engage my core, I have to draw in as much as I can but cannot do anything to the point where I lose the connection. I once tried to do table top into toe taps. Basically I was lying on my back with my legs above me. I was to drop one leg so it was almost 90 degrees and stop. I misunderstood and did alternate toe taps. I’ve never seen so much panic in my usually very chilled Pilates instructor. I clearly wasn't meant to do that!! That’s how frustrating it is. I can’t even do alternate toe taps!!!! When older women (well into their 60s) are doing planks, and I'm told to do hand hovering, I struggle mentally with that. I hope it’s not forever, but I'm impatient to get back to it.

I have just had my most recent physio appointment and I'll be honest, I've been in a bit of dark cloud. This was the biggest gap between appointments since I'd started physio - 4 weeks. I was determined to break the 1.5cm deadlock. I hadn’t managed to make any of the Pilates classes but to make up for it, I had done my exercises 5 times each week. For some reason before my appointment, I felt nervous. I had to take a few minutes in the car before I went in to tell myself to chill the hell out. When I went in, my physio did her usual measurements of my actual stomach. 0.5 cm. WHAT?!?! I couldn’t understand it. She then got me on the bed to measure the gap. No change. WTF?!?!? I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. I was gobsmacked and said I didn't understand how this could happen. This just didn’t make sense. I asked her the question that has been weighing heavy on my mind since I started. Would l ever get better, or was there a chance I could stay like this? When she confirmed my worst fear I felt like I'd been hit by a sledgehammer. That wasn’t what I wanted, nor hoped to hear. She looked at me and told me to blurt out what I was thinking. I just sat with my head in my hands refusing to believe that this could be happening. I asked if there is any chance that the delay in being seen had contributed - she thought it probably had. I swore inwardly. I had been royally screwed over by the very people who I couldn’t praise highly enough during my labour and birth (not those specific midwives - this is completely nothing to do with them). She asked me to go through again who checked me the following day. I told her bitterly how it had all been about breastfeeding and then I was seen by student midwife (!) who only checked to see that my uterus had contracted before I was discharged. I asked (though I already knew the answer) - could I see a PT who was postnatally trained? She shook her head. Could I use a stronger theraband with more resistance? She shook her head. Could I do anything other than the exercises? She shook her head. I could have cried. She asked me if I planned to continue with Pilates and I said yes. She agreed it would be beneficial, but at this point, how beneficial we don’t know.

My physio is now trying to get me an ultrasound to accurately measure the gap. During the appointment she said it might be the case there is significant herniation preventing the muscles from coming back together. I certainly have an umbilical hernia, but she now considers there might be even worse underlying issues. She also thinks I might need to consider surgery to fix the gap. That is major abdominal surgery which has a longer recovery time than a Cesarean section (12 weeks I believe). The key thing is I can’t have it done until I ‘finish’ having children. We haven’t confided in many people when we want to have more kids but she is one person I've told based on the fact it could impact her treatment. She is adamant this won’t happen again, because she will see me antenatally, and I'll likely be in a tuba-grip from 12 weeks of pregnancy onwards. I will continue doing exercises, antenatal pilates, and likely be taped. Postnatally, immediately after birth, I'd be seen at the hospital by her or her colleague and then treated again. However, despite all of that, there is chance the gap could be even bigger this time, depending on how much we can reduce it now.

She told me there is a band I could wear but it may not do anything at this late stage. I’ll be honest I'm still in shock. This all just happened yesterday. I didn’t cry in the appointment but got back to the car and just sobbed. How could my beautiful baby boy have caused such a major physical problem? He wasn’t massive, he wasn’t ever really in a bad enough position, there was only one of him. My physio thinks being slim, I have narrow hips so Cailean being 7lbs 10oz was big for me. I told her I don’t want to look pregnant when I'm not pregnant. Short of making a sign to hang around my neck, I'm sick of the comments, I'm sick of the looks people don’t think I see them give me when I walk past, as their eyes flick to my stomach. She too has been in my position but she doesn’t look pregnant. She pointed out it’s clear I've always been slim so it looks more obvious on me.

She basically told me, she has no idea if the treatment I get will work, and if it does, progress will be very slow, but we’re going to carry on. I’m just finding it very hard to feel positive or even have the motivation if it stops working. My appointment yesterday turned out to be more therapy than physical therapy. Due to the comments recently, I've had quite a bad few weeks. She suggested apart from the referral, she thinks I should see someone about it. I told her I knew there was a team for birth trauma. Basically, if you have a traumatic birth, you can speak to the consultants/midwives that looked after you to get clarification, closure and to talk through what happened to try and process things. I asked my physio if there was such a team that might be able to help me. My birth couldn't have gone better if I had planned it - but the physical impact that has since been missed is without doubt starting to impact on my mental and physical well-being. She pointed me in the direction of Patient Relations initially. I don’t particularly want to complain about the midwifery team but at the same time, I don’t want it to happen again, and I don’t want it to happen to anyone else. I’ve already had a confirmation email to say this has been passed to a Patient Relations Officer. I’m hoping to discuss my postnatal care with this person and find out what can be done so I don’t go through this again next time.

Separately, I've been having issues with my episiotomy scar. I think there is scar tissue causing me sharp pain and have been referred to Gynaecology. I have been told, they may laser it off or even fashion me another episiotomy and then stitch me again. Fantastic!

I don’t want anyone to think I'm ungrateful. Cailean is 100% worth everything that has happened to me. I know there are worse things than what I'm going through - I've been through worse things in my life. It’s just that this is soul destroying for me at the minute and after everything I've already been through, I don’t think anyone would blame me for feeling the way I do. At this point in time, I cannot be gracious to those women who just jump back to their previous size. People complain about stretch marks, or excess skin or their new body shape. I’m sorry but I would kill for that right now. I look pregnant AND I’M NOT!!!

This has all happened within the last 48 hours. If my ‘recovery’ has shown me anything - when it rains, it definitely pours...