• Aaron: He doesn't want you, he doesn't want the... You can't just trap him.
  • Rebecca: You really think that's what this is? I wanted to get on a flight out of here. He should never have known. I'm not trying to take your husband.
  • Aaron: Just... stay away from him. Don't contact him, don't see him.
  • Rebecca: And you think that'll solve it? What do you want? That we all just pretend this isn't happening? You go back to your marriage and just forget about it? I like you, Aaron. I want to help you.
  • Aaron: Yeah, well, you're doin' a great job!
  • Rebecca: He hurt you. Like he hurt you before. Like he's hurt everyone who's ever cared about him.
  • Aaron: No, I'm different. He loves me. He married me!
  • Rebecca: Then slept with me! He told me you were over and I trusted him. Don't make the same mistake. I mean, look at me. I'm pregnant. I'm carrying his child. I'm sorry, Aaron. But there's going to be a baby here. It's going to be born and you're going to see it. You can't just ignore it.
  • Aaron: Just stay away from him! (yells, Rebecca flinches back, grabs her non existent baby bump in a dramatic gesture) I'm... I'm sorry. I... I wouldn't... I wouldn't hurt you. I wouldn't... I wouldn't hurt the... bab...
  • Rebecca: This is what he does to you. This is why we have to protect ourselves. Can you really do this? Can you stand by him, cope, when the baby's here? You came here to save your marriage. Save yourself, Aaron. Leave him.

Sven and I are so in love and over each other it’s almost gross. A few weeks apart is what our relationship needed to get a breath of fresh air, with miley gone to germany for half term. We have the house to ourselves, there’s a lot going on and I need to be careful or I’ll get pregnant again. Sometimes I think he likes me better pregnant. He did fall for me when I was expecting miley and I can’t blame him, I do look good pregnant!

👪 Happy Father's Day 👪
  • ~~
  • Sherlock: *strolls into the lab* Molly, did you know there is an entire day dedicated to fathers?
  • Molly: *smiles* Yeah...
  • Sherlock: *sighs* And all we have to do was lie there.
  • Molly: *giggles* There's a Mother's Day, too, you know.
  • Sherlock: *gesturing* Yes, that makes sense. A never ending job.
  • Molly: *leans over the bench* So, you don't want your present, then?
  • Sherlock: *glances at her baby bump* That'll be a trick.
  • Molly: *rubbing her stomach fondly* It's getting quite difficult to explain.
  • Sherlock: *raises an eyebrow* You want people to know?
  • Molly: *shrugs* Wouldn't be so terrible. My Mum might kill you, though.
  • Sherlock: Nothing compared to what Mary's going to do.
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *swallows* You're quite sure I'm the father?
  • Molly: *gives a half-smile* 'fraid so.
  • Sherlock: *nods* Fine. We'll tell them tonight *kisses her quickly; leaving the lab*
  • Molly: Sherlock?
  • Sherlock: *at the door* Hmm?
  • Molly: *smiles* Happy Father's Day.
  • Sherlock: *smiles cutely* I can get used to that.

anonymous asked:

I'm losing weight slowly and my family, friends and boyfriend have seen dramatic changes, I try to stay on a balanced diet and I workout fairly regularly, but I'm having the most trouble with my stomach and legs, i really want to flatten my stomach cause I look like I'm pregnant, my legs are huge and I want them slim, any suggestions?

It’s only the beginning, they will see you in your best shape in a few months.

I have some materials that could help you.

Get a flat stomach ->


Get thinner legs ->


christmas 2000 /// emily au

second installment in this series of christmas ficlets. also this story requires some suspended belief for william’s birth date but chris carter fucked up that storyline enough that it shouldn’t be noticeable.

She’s felt sick on and off these past weeks, growing dizzy and nauseous and eventually having to lean over the sink the night before, but she never expected this. Never thought she’d actually faint at work.

One minute, she’s standing by a festoon of Christmas decorations in the hallway (the FBI has Christmas decorations?) and arguing the authenticity of Mulder’s toxic slime theory, and the next, her vision is spotted and her legs are weak, the room spinning as she falls and darkness falling like a curtain.

Mulder catches her clumsily before she hits the floor. When she comes to, his hand is on her cheek, thumb moving over her cheekbone, and his eyes are filled with worry. “Scully,” he says frantically.

“Mulder, what happened?” she whispers dizzily, disoriented, unsure of why she is on the floor in Mulder’s arms. (Damnit, we talked about being affectionate at work, she thinks at first, irritably, and then figures out by the pounding in her head that something is wrong.)

“You fainted.” He looks like he’s on the verge of falling apart, hugs her against him desperately.

Another agent hovers awkwardly, asking, “Is she okay?”

“Call an ambulance,” he snaps.

“Mulder, I’m okay,” she says, touching his wrist gently, right over his pulse point. “I’m okay.”

He swallows, smoothing the hair away from her face. “No, you’re not,” he says, almost firmly.

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