#post partum depression tw

[kissofthemuses]

ALSO as a point of interest (I have to find the full head canon on my old blog), but for my Hera, what led up to Hera rejecting Hephastus wasn't due to her seeing anything wrong with him.

At that time, she was suffering from the worst post-partum depression she'd experienced with any of her kids. It really fucked with her mental state.

#{ hera hc } #post partum depression tw

[zeynepxturkmen]

ZEYNEP "ZEYNO/HERO" SILA TÜRKMEN

age: 31.

gender & pronouns: nonbinary & she (primary)/they (secondary).

neighborhood: university heights.

occupations: owner of the comic lab and owner of a hero's journey.

fc: özge özacar.

HER STORY

trigger warnings: cheating, teen pregnancy, mental health, post-partum depression.

Cemre and Kerem Türkmen always knew that they wanted the best for their daughter. That they wanted her to grow up strong, connected to her roots but also have the love to fly. When Zeynep came to their lives, they knew that they loved her more than anything else in the world. They just didn’t realize that their daughter was going to experience quite an adventure as she grew up. For the longest time, they thought that the most adventurous thing they’d explore with Zeyno was her sexual orientation, something she discovered herself when she was thirteen. Alternating living between their home country of Türkiye in İstanbul and Boston, Massachusetts, they had struggled for a while learning about her gender identity and it resulted in her being sent to an international school in Dubai. For a while, Zeyno absolutely hated the school. Yet somehow, over time, it grew to not become too bad and it certainly helped her with her English. She even eventually started seeing someone when she was sixteen.

Falling in love for the first time was one of the simplest yet most beautiful things she’d ever experienced. While she hadn’t been expecting him, she knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Even when she told him about her sexual orientation, he only seemed to love her more and more. With both of their parents’ permission and blessings, they were set in an arranged marriage and promised to each other. Everything was going perfectly… Until news of Zeynep’s pregnancy came out.

Zeynep and her fiancé had just finished graduating from high school, the two ready to start university in the autumn and work even closer to starting their life together. But the moment their parents found out that she was pregnant, they were furious. Her meant-to-be-future-in-laws accused her of sleeping around and cheating on their son. In the midst of it all, he had panicked and said that he wasn’t the father, leaving her heartbroken. The engagement was called off, she was forced to say goodbye to the person she loved, and under a lot of scrutinizing pressure, Leticia’s parents cut her off. Giving her enough money so that she’d be comfortable for a while then giving her the slip.

She felt lost in it all. At eighteen years old, she was completely removed from everyone she loved and everything she knew. Having meant to start school at Harvard, she moved out to Boston as quickly as possible. Trying to prepare everything she could before her babies—yes, babies; Zeynep was pregnant with twins—were meant to come and school was to start. With the money her parents gave her, she was able to find a small apartment that worked yet saved the rest of the money to go towards the babies. She’d been quick to get a job, trying to earn enough money so that she could be able to provide for her children. Soon enough, her twins, Leia and Luke (after her favourite Star Wars characters), came into her life.

By then, she had a steady job at Barnes and Noble while also taking a few night classes for her Creative Writing and Theater majors. Eventually, as the years went by and her daughters grew up more and more, the more she continued her schooling and the bills began to pile up, Zeyno took on a second job at a movie rental shop (the beautiful days before streaming became a convenience). She graduated from Harvard and while she had been blessed with many scholarships and grants, there were still loans to be paid. Her children had been the only light in her life. After what happened, she struggled over connecting with others romantically. She slept around a lot, using them the same way they used her to forget her struggles for a while. Then, she met someone rather unexpectedly.

Zeynep (or Hero, the alias they used online and with others in the queer community) was newly 21 and her friends (well, the few friends she had) believed that it was time for her to have some fun and live life a little. With being able to come up a plan to make that a reality and for the twins to be taken care of, she was dragged out to Las Vegas for a couple days. No responsibilities, no worries about the future; Just a young adult being given the freedom to do whatever the hell she wanted. Okay, sure, she struggled high-key with it at first. The urge to check on her children always just too strong. Yet, she soon met someone. At first, it was meant to be a short, 24 hour romance that went nowhere. Just someone who touched her soul and then they both went on their ways. Now, imagine their surprise waking up next morning and discovering that, not only had they fallen asleep together, they had also gotten married at some point during the past 24 hours. Zeynep was freaking the fuck out, trying to figure out how she can annul this without ever letting her kids find out. After awhile, though, they both calmed down. And brewed one of the most insane ideas in the world: what if they stayed married for the next year and see what happens next?

It was batshit crazy and Zeyno stated so. Of course, she was in. That is, until she heard the rest of her semi-partner’s idea: they moved to her partner’s hometown in Colorado. She had her children. They had a life in Boston. She was being looked at for a promotion at Barnes and Noble. How fair would it be to uproot everything for a person she’d only been married to for, what, twelve hours? She wasn’t onboard at first and even stated so. But… she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted. The idea of a fresh start… Her children growing up with another parent… The potential of being a family… She couldn’t resist finally. And in November 2012, the move was made from Boston to a townhouse downtown with her new partner.

In all honesty? It was an incredible struggle at first. She fortunately had been able to get an assistant manager position at the Comic Lab and the twins adjusted better than expected. Yet it was Hero who struggled to adjust for the longest time. She couldn’t find it within herself to settle, struggling to make friends in Providence Peak and challenging her partner the best she could. Pushing their buttons and ready to piss them off. Surprisingly, though? They were supportive and understanding. The last time she had experience that had been with her ex and she soon admitted to them about what happened. Nothing could express the amount of support and care she received. After awhile, things got easier. Then a year went by and they had a vow renewal. Fully cementing their commitment to each other and embracing their love together.

Over the years, her partner adopted Luke and Leia, becoming not just their stepparent, but their parent completely. Six years went by and they were then joined with Meg, named after Zeynep’s favourite Disney character, Megara. For a moment, things were good. But after awhile, her mental health began to struggle as she began to deal with post-partum depression. Nothing was going right between her and her partner, a rift soon growing and growing. It was when they left in the middle of night, claiming that they couldn’t do this anymore that she was snapped right out of it. Well, sort of. She was finally able to reached out to her friends for help and received it, especially after hearing the news about her partner.

Over the past six years as she navigated being a (sort of) single parent again, she went back to primarily making sure her children were taken care of, but also trying to have a life as well. She gained ownership of the Comic Lab and as of a couple of weeks ago, she has now opened up a new business located in University Heights right next to the Comic Lab: A Hero’s Journey, a book-and-movie shop that’s conveniently located beneath the apartment she and the kids moved into after her partner left. She’s even tried to dip her toes back into the dating scene, though nothing more concrete has occurred since then.

Despite things not looking like how she expected when she first moved to Providence Peak eleven years ago and despite her failed marriage, Zeynep is admittedly happy with where she is in her life. After all, she has three children who are healthy and happy. She owns two businesses that she’s passionate about. She has friends in town and a life, something she didn’t really have before. What more could she want?

#providence.intro #( about. ) #tw: cheating #tw: teen pregnancy #tw: mental health #tw: post partum depression #cheating tw #teen pregnancy tw #mental health tw #post partum depression tw

[absurdthirst]

Happy Mother’s Day {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: Post pregnancy, angst, body image issues, breastfeeding, postpartum depression, mentions of cheating, miscommunication, lactation kink, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex

Comments: You are three months out from having your daughter Lily with your boyfriend Marcus Pike. He’s been secretive and there have been messages you've seen with his gorgeous - non post baby body - coworker. You think he’s cheating and Marcus is focused on making your Mother’s Day a day you always remember. 

A/N: Postpartum depression and post baby body issues are a very valid thing. Motherhood is wonderful but it can take a toll on the mental health and physicality of those that bring life into the world. 

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Your entire world feels like it’s crumbling. Eyes watering as you look down at the baby, sleeping peacefully in her bassinet like there is nothing wrong. Even though everything was going to change when her father decides that he’s done trying to hide the relationship that he is obviously having with her. Of course he would want her. You are fat, covered in stretch marks, your boobs leak, you can’t even remember if you showered yesterday and most damning of all, he hasn’t touched you since Lily’s birth. “I’m so sorry.” You whisper to your daughter, regretting not being enough to keep him home, never wanting a broken home like you had been raised in. You had thought that Marcus Pike had felt the same way, but the way the text messages are flying, obviously not. 

Marcus is nervous. Today is the day. He double checks he has everything on the tray. “Pancakes. Check. Bacon. Check. Eggs. Check. Mimosa. Check. Coffee. Check. Syrup. Check. Butt- butter. Shit. Butter.” He says, rushing to get some butter from the fridge. He cuts it up and places it in the pancakes. He adjusts the flower in the thin vase and he grins as he carries the tray into the bedroom, frowning when he sees you crying. “Baby? What - what’s wrong?” He asks, his happiness deflating at seeing you so upset.

Looking up, you swipe your eyes, plastering on a smile that you know probably looks fake. “N-nothing.” You promise, hating that he caught you crying. “Everything.” You admit, knowing he won’t believe you entirely. “Hormones.” You explain with half a shrug as if that explained everything. It should, you were emotional since finding out you were pregnant and even more so after you had Lily.

Marcus frowns, carrying the tray over to you. “Happy Mother’s Day, sweetheart. First of many.” He smiles, leaning in to kiss your cheek and he frowns when you freeze. He sets the tray down on your lap, “I made all your favorites.” He says, “I, uh, since Lily can’t cook yet.” His joke falls flat and he shifts to look over at Lily. “Hey baby girl.” He coos, reaching out to stroke her head. He’s so in love with her it’s insane. He swears his heart is about to beat out of his chest every time he sees you breastfeeding her.

“I-, uh, thanks.” There’s no way that you could eat right now, already feeling like you are going to be sick. The text messages that you had seen before you had just turned off the iPad had made you want to throw up. ‘I don’t want to make her too suspicious. I want everything in place before I do this.’ Followed up by his co-worker’s reply. ‘God I love you Marcus ❤️ You are such a good man.’ You wonder how she could think he’s a good man when they are discussing him leaving. 

He isn't sure what's wrong but he figures it could just be that you're tired. "You want me to take her while you eat your breakfast? Daddy has missed his little chickie." He coos, stroking her cheek with his finger. His nickname for her since she was born crying out until she quietened down and almost chirped whenever she needed something.

“Sure.” You nod, almost hating to see the affection he pours on his daughter. Not because of her, but because you know you are going to be heartbroken to not receive that kind of affection too. “I need to go to the bathroom.” You murmur, pushing off the bed and rushing to the safety of the en-suite.

Marcus frowns, watching you shut the door, and he sets the tray down on the dresser so nothing spills and he scoops up the baby. Cradling her in his arms as he walks towards the bathroom door. “What’s wrong with mommy, huh?” He whispers, leaning down to kiss her forehead before he stands next to the door. “Are you okay, baby? What’s wrong?” He asks, concern in his voice.

“I-I’m f-fine.” You hiccup, hoping he doesn’t hear the tears in your voice. “I- I’m going to shower, okay?” Your lip trembles and you turn on the water before you start pulling off your clothes. Unable to even look at yourself in the mirror, knowing that because of your post-baby body, the ugly marks and flabby skin, the man you love is going to leave you.

Marcus changes the baby’s diaper while you shower, wanting you to relax all day. “There we go, Lilypad. All clean.” He coos, blowing raspberries on her stomach to make her giggle. Something she’s only just recently done. He changes her onesie to the one he had bought for today that says “I ❤️ my mama.” He grins, cradles her in his arms and sits down on the bed, just watching her. She begins to cry just as you exit the bathroom. “I think she’s hungry, sweetheart. I just changed her. I know you showered but do you-?” He is unsure of how to act around you since you seem so upset.

“I’ll feed her.” The shower did you some good, allowing you to compose yourself and calm down. You weren’t going to let this wreck you. “Come here pretty girl.” You coo softly. “Is my baby girl hungry?” You ask, taking her from Marcus and pulling your tank top down so she can latch on. “Do you have to go to the office today?” You ask, looking over at Marcus.

Marcus watches you breastfeed, ignoring the way his cock twitches at the sight, and he rubs his palms on his jeans, suddenly sweaty. “Oh, uh, yeah. I just - just for an hour or so. Got some paperwork to do.” He says, hating how awkward his voice sounds but fuck, he’s nervous. He doesn’t know what your reaction is gonna be.

“Of course.” You are proud of the way that you don’t scream at him or burst into tears. “It’s important.” You comment, looking down at Lily. You’ve already decided that you are playing along, see what he does before you give into your first instinct to pack up and leave. You didn’t want to rush, wanting to find a decent place for you and your daughter.

Marcus wishes you would open up to him. You’ve been so closed off since having Lily. He knows you have been through a lot and you are adapting to being a mother. You’re incredible and that’s what he wanted to tell you today but you seem to be in a slump and he doesn’t want to upset you even more. “Okay. I- I’m gonna head out then.” He murmurs, standing up. He leans down to softly peck your lips, kissing your forehead before kissing Lily’s. “Bye my gorgeous girls.” He offers you a smile as he grabs his FBI cap that you got him as a joke during your weekend trip to New York and he falters when you don’t even look at him. Maybe today isn’t the day. He thinks as he grabs his keys and gets into his car.

You sigh when you hear the car start up, looking down into eyes that you swear are Marcus’s. “Don’t worry.” You murmur softly. “It’s going to be okay.” You promise her, looking over at the tray he had left for you and wondering why he had put so much effort into it. It’s actually sweet and you wonder if it’s because he feels guilty. A last sweet gesture before he rips your heart out.

Marcus arrives at the jewelers, unable to believe the ring is finally ready. It's a ring he designed, wanting it to be extra special for you so it's taken longer than he anticipated. He wanted to propose to you on your third date but he promised himself that he would take it slow. After a year together, you found out you were pregnant and he didn't want to propose and have you think he was doing 'the right thing' so he waited again. Now, with Lily three months old, he is ready to propose. He is nervous, excited, but now he is wondering if you want to be with him. Perhaps you had stayed with him because you got pregnant. He hopes not because he absolutely adores you. You and Lily are his everything. 

"Hey Marcus. Today's the big day, huh?" The  jeweler asks with a smile. Marcus nods, greeting the older man who made the beautiful ring. 

"Today is the day." He blows out a breath, unsure of himself now.

It’s only after Lily has finished eating and is happily bouncing in her seat that you realize today is Mother’s Day, not really hearing him before. Now you understand the breakfast, the reason that he was being so nice. Despite feeling like your heart is going to wither up and die when he breaks it, you will never lie and say that he doesn’t love your daughter. His daughter. He’s taken to fatherhood like a duck to water, commenting that it was all he ever wanted. Except maybe now that he has the baby, he doesn’t want the mother anymore. You huff angrily at that, shoving pancakes in your mouth and chewing them quickly. So what if you had a belly? You gave birth to his fucking ten pound baby. You’re entitled to that pooch and loose skin, damnit.

Marcus thanks the jeweler for his help, shaking his hand and accepting his good luck wishes. After the jewelers, Marcus goes to pick up the bottle of champagne he had bought to have engraved with the date you met, the date of your first date and what he hopes will be the date of your engagement. He quickly picks it up before heading to the dry cleaners to pick up his suits, hoping he can tell you it's just for his work suits. He then picks up the dessert he had ordered - your favorite - and he calls the restaurant to make sure they are going to deliver the food. He wants to do this at home with Lily. There's nowhere else he wants to be when he proposes. Finally, he arrives home, rushing through the house to hide the champagne after putting the dessert in the fridge outside.

After eating, you had basically gone on a rampage. Plucking your eyebrows and hissing in pain while you held a bag of frozen peas over them to get the swelling to go down before you painted your nails and even put makeup on. You feel almost normal and although you still can’t fit into your pre-baby jeans, there is a cute dress you bought while you were pregnant that you never got to wear and honestly? It looks damn good on you. It makes you want to send him a picture to remind him of what he’s giving up, but you don’t. Turning away from the mirror when you hear him downstairs.

Marcus's eyes widen when you come downstairs after putting Lily down for her nap. He can't believe how beautiful you look and he is happy you got dressed up as he is certain you'll want to look your best for your proposal. "Wow. Baby. You look - wow." He is lost for words, knowing he looks like an idiot with his mouth opening and closing while he stares at you. He wants to grab you and pull you in for a kiss but he has been reluctant to get too touchy with you, not wanting you to feel like he's pushing you to sex so soon after Lily.

You miss the way he used to touch you, possessively and eagerly. Like there was nothing more that he wanted to do than kiss you, or take you to bed. “Thank you.” You murmur softly. “I just wanted to feel…normal I guess.” You huff, slightly embarrassed but not ready to confront him yet. He had texted her again right after he left the house. The woman he works with asking if today was the day and Marcus telling her it was. You wanted him to regret leaving you. You had to turn off the iPad again, your stomach rolling in disgust. 

Marcus bites his lip, his heart pounding and he isn't sure how to get set up without making you suspicious. His saving grace comes when Lily starts to cry and it comes through the monitor. "I'll get her." He tells you, touching your arm as he passes you before going upstairs to Lily's nursery. "Come here Lilypad." He coos, picking her up and rocking her until she calms down. He rubs her back, checking that she is dry before he places her pacifier back in her mouth, gently laying her down in the crib. 

His phone rings in his pocket and he hisses. "Shit." He pulls it out of his pocket, seeing Lucy's caller ID. "Hey Lucy." He smiles, keeping his voice low and completely forgetting about the baby monitor. "Yeah. Yeah. I, uh, I haven't done it yet. I'm nearly ready to go. Yes, so excited. I'm so ready. I was ready to do it before she got pregnant and now...now it's time since Lily is three months old. - I know, it's just - I don't know what she's gonna say. I'm nervous. Yeah. Yeah. I'll see you later. Okay. Thanks sweetie." He hangs up the phone, checking Lily is asleep again before he makes his way downstairs.

You are frozen in the kitchen, staring at the monitor in horror as all of your worst fears are confirmed in one phone call. Ready to go, yeah, you bet he is. Your fingernails dig into the back of the chair you had been about to sit in and you hear Marcus come down the stairs, a small tune being hummed like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Walking into the kitchen, Marcus frowns at how tense you seem to be. He doesn't know why. "Hey baby. I, uh, I have an idea. Why don't you go watch TV upstairs while Lily is napping and I'll tidy up down here." He gestures to the bottles and glasses that need to be cleaned. "Go relax. I can handle this." He says, placing his hand on your lower back.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You hiss, jerking away from him. You can’t take it anymore, unable to keep up with the charade after hearing that. “Just tell me that you’re leaving since you’ve wanted to do it before I got pregnant and go.” You turn around and pin in him with an angry stare. “Do it, Marcus. Do it so you can go be with your ‘sweetie’.”

He is shocked, reeling back, and his brow furrows. "What - what are you talking about?" He asks, his throat dry. Did you hear him talking to Lucy? "Baby, I- I don't understand. I'm leaving?" He asks, wanting you to explain this sudden outburst.

You snort, rolling your eyes at the shocked expression on his face. He needed to become an actor instead of an FBI agent. “Please.” You huff. “I’m not an idiot.” When he doesn’t say anything you sigh. “Your messages come across the iPad, Marcus. I saw them. How you don’t want me to get suspicious so she shouldn’t text you while your home. I couldn’t fucking look after that. I turned it off. And you just had a conversation in a room with a baby monitor.” Your eyes fill with tears and you try to choke back a sob. “You haven’t touched me since Lily was born and I get it, I’m not sexy and have ugly stretch marks. You don’t want me anymore.”

Marcus is even more confused. “What the hell are you talking about?” He shakes his head. He’s so confused. “Baby. I- I want you. All the goddamn time. I’m hard literally when you walk past me. Seeing you as a mother, it’s equally the hottest and most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He steps closer but you back up. “Please, sweetheart. You gotta believe me. It’s you. Only you. Always you. I only want you. I just - I didn’t want to push you after you had Lily. As for Lucy…she’s - she’s been helping me with something. A surprise for you and I didn’t want you to know about it. There’s nothing going on between us except that she’s my coworker and friend. I swear to you, I love you. I wouldn’t - I couldn’t - I couldn’t leave you even if I tried because I’m so in love with you.”

You bite your lip, unsure of what to believe. He sounds horrified and earnest, like he needs you to believe him. “I don’t know.” You admit, shaking your head. “I want to believe you but just tell me the truth.” You beg. “I don’t- if you don’t want to be with me, just - just be honest. I’m not going to keep Lily from you or be some bitter ex.” Wrapping your arms around yourself, you try to calm down and not let your hormones dictate your reactions. You know you are sensitive right now and you don’t want to be too forgiving or not understanding enough. “I told you I was cleared for sex and you still haven’t touched me. You hate my body don’t you? I get it, it’s not the same. I hate it too.”

Marcus shakes his head so hard he nearly gets whiplash. “No. No. Fuck, baby. No. The opposite. You have any idea how - how much you turn me on? Knowing that your body is strong enough to birth our little girl? It’s - Jesus. You get me hard as a rock every time you breastfeed her which is - which is weird - but just seeing you as a mother, knowing you gave birth to our daughter…it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I loved your body before, and I love your body now because it’s you. I just - I just didn’t want to push it when you only had her a few months ago. I wanted to let you tell me when you’re ready so I don’t push you before you want me to touch you. I didn’t want to be that asshole who demands his wife fucks him so soon after having a baby. Lily is your priority and I get that. Please…please don’t doubt my love for you. Please. Baby…I adore you. I fucking worship you. I would never cheat on you. I- I was going to - shit - I was going to propose. That’s what Lucy was helping me with.”

You cover your mouth, muffling a gasp as your eyes water again. Propose? He was going to propose to you? You honestly thought that he wasn’t going to, another thought that had pushed through your mind at the most inconvenient times. He had moved so fast with everyone else, and yet you were carrying his child and he never even mentioned anything beyond asking if Lily could have his last name. Part of you had just wondered if it was so he could put her on his health insurance easier. “You were?” You ask softly. “I- are you serious? You were going to-” You bite your lip, chin trembling. “I ruined it. I ruined everything and I - fuck, I’m so sorry.” You sob, breaking down again and covering your face in your hands. 

Marcus reaches for your hands, pulling them away from your face. “Baby. Baby. Look at me. Please look at me.” He pleads, squeezing your hands as you cry. He hates seeing you cry. “You didn’t ruin anything. If anyone did, it’s me. I shouldn’t - I should’ve done this months ago but I didn’t want you to think it’s because you were pregnant. I wanted to propose so you’d know I was proposing because I love you, not because of the baby. I’m so sorry I haven’t made you feel like I - like I want to be with you. I’m sorry.” He leans closer to kiss your forehead, letting go of your hands so he can wipe your tears away with his thumbs as he cups your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, still feeling mortified and ashamed of the way that you had thought he was cheating on you. Or at least getting ready to leave you to be with another woman. “I just- I don’t feel like myself anymore, I have all these emotions I don’t know how to deal with and then- then the texts coming through.” You rush out to explain, feeling like you need to justify why you had doubted him. “S-she said she loved you. And I-“ you break off and take a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Marcus pulls you into his arms, understanding that you are going through a lot. He can’t even imagine the adjustment to giving birth and being a mother. He has had his world turned upside down by the arrival of Lily so he can’t imagine how you feel. “I should’ve paid more attention to you. Reassured you that you are gorgeous and that I love you.” He kisses your hair, “I only love you. Only you. Only want you.” He promises, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. “Baby,” He leans away from you, “can I- would you mind going upstairs and pretending that you don’t know I’m going to propose so I can get everything set up. I still want to propose and I have everything planned to make it special. You go dry your eyes and relax and I’ll call you when I’m ready. That is - is if you want me to propose?” He asks, stomach twisting that maybe you don’t want him to propose.

You nod, surprised that he still wants to after your outburst. “I want you to.” You murmur softly. “I love you Marcus, so much.” It was why you had been devastated by the idea that he didn’t want you. You had imagined forever with him. “I’ll go upstairs.” You promise, leaning in and pressing your lips to his gently, apologizing for your behavior through the kiss.

“I’ll call you downstairs when I’m ready.” He murmurs, pecking your lips again before he brings your hand to his lips to kiss the back of it. He doesn’t blame you. He’s been secretive and he knows you’ve been suspicious but he thought the surprise would’ve outweigh the secrecy. He quickly gets everything ready like he planned. Grabbing the roses and placing them in vases around the room, lighting the candles before he gets changed in the downstairs bathroom into his suit, cleaning up and exhaling shakily when he puts the ring box in his pocket. The doorbell rings and he opens the door, thanking the delivery driver for the takeout from your favorite restaurant and he lays the table, putting everything on plates and pouring a glass of wine for you, saving the champagne for later. “Okay baby. You can come down now.” He calls out to you, hoping Lily will continue napping for a while. He saw you feed and change her when she woke up about twenty minutes ago so he’s hoping he gets some time with you.

You cleaned up, reapplied makeup while you were upstairs, trying to figure out how you would make up your blunder to Marcus. Slowly coming downstairs, your eyes widen when you see how he’s transformed the space. “Marcus.” You whisper breathlessly, finding him looking handsome and so very sexy in his best suit, the blue one that you think makes his eyes look even darker. It’s cut to emphasize his broad shoulders and you remember the first time he had worn it, attending a wedding with you, ironically enough. You couldn’t wait to peel it off of him that night. You bite your lip and look around. “What’s all this?” You ask, playing along with the idea that you don’t know what he is doing. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

"I absolutely had to do all of this baby. It's all for you. I wanted to show you what you mean to me. How much I adore you. Come, sit down. I got your favorite from the Italian down the street." He says, taking your hand to guide you over to the table. He is happy you seem to be playing along and acting like your fight never happened. He wants to do this right. He pulls the chair out for you, pushing you in before he lifts the covers on the food and sits opposite you. He picks up his wine glass once he is settled, "to us." He toasts, wanting this moment to be about you and him as the couple you started out as. Not you and him as the parents you have become.

“To us.” You smile and lift your glass to touch it to his before you take a sip. “Oh, wine….” You groan at the first taste of the fruity, dry red. It has been since you found out you were pregnant that you have had wine. Your eyes flutter closed in pleasure as you take another sip and let the liquid sit on your tongue before you swallow it. “I have plenty of milk stored in the fridge for Lily tonight.” You hum, knowing you will have to throw away whatever you produce tonight.

Marcus nods, proud of how you’ve taken to being a mother. It’s been incredible to watch. “Dig in.” He orders, “before it gets cold.” You pick up the fork, digging into the pasta, and he tries to slow down how fast he eats. He’s been nervous all day so he hasn’t eaten anything because of it. “Good? I, uh, I got your favorite dressert too.” He says, wanting to make sure this is all about you.

You soften even more, sending him a smile that shows how appreciative you are. “It’s delicious.” You promise. “You are spoiling me, breakfast this morning and now this.” You reach over to take his hand, rubbing the back of it with your thumb. “Thank you.” Now that you know what is going on, you are excited to see how he proposes. What he says. Eager for reassurances that he loves you. That need for comfort is slightly desperate but it’s what you need right now.

Marcus waits until you've finished eating and he places the dirty plates in the sink to deal with later. Serving up the desert, he places it in front of you and clears his throat when he kneels down beside the kitchen table. "Sweetheart. You are - you are the woman I have waited a lifetime for. I'm a hopeless romantic, always searching for my princess, and I have kissed many frogs." He chuckles, reaching for your hand. "You were worth waiting for. You make me happy. Every. Single. Day. You've made my house a home, given me a beautiful daughter. I just - there are not enough words to describe how much I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you in this house, having more babies and getting old. Well, older." He teases, pointing at himself. "I love you and - and I have something to ask you." He lets go of your hand, fumbling as he tries to get the box out of his jacket. Eventually, he opens it to reveal the ring. "Will you marry me?" He asks, his chest heaving slightly as his heart pounds.

You stare at the ring for a moment, even though you knew this was coming, it’s still overwhelming you. Glancing back at his soft, anxious eyes, you nod as your own fill with happy tears. “Yes, Marcus, yes!” You cry, lunging forward and cupping his cheeks while you press your lips to his. “Yes. I love you.” You murmur, happy when he wraps his arm around you and you open up, letting his tongue slide into your mouth.

He slides his tongue against yours, unable to believe you said yes. Pulling back after a few moments, he clumsily takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto your left hand. “Perfect.” He grins, holding your hand. “Do you like it?” He asks.

You look down at the ring, admiring the details and nod quickly. “It’s gorgeous.” You squeal, realizing that it’s not the standard engagement ring. It is perfect because Marcus picked it out for you. “I love it. I’m never going to take it off.”

“I, uh, designed it for you. I wanted it to be special. For my girl.” He says, “it has our initials in it along with Lily’s.” He kisses the back of your hand before he stands up, grinning and so so happy that you accepted his proposal. “I love you, sweetheart. Only you.” He promises, bending over to kiss you softly.

A small, happy sigh bubbles out of you as you stand too. “I love you too.” You promise, reaching up and caressing his cheek gently before you wrap your arm around the back of his neck and pull him closer for another kiss. “You and Lily are everything to me.” You confess. “It’s why I was so- well, you know.” You feel your face heat up with embarrassment and you have to look away, remembering how you had accused him of something so far out of his personality.

Marcus tuts, pressing his lips to yours, “no baby. I- I should’ve - it wasn’t right that I got Lucy so involved. I was just so nervous and I didn’t want you to be suspicious, but I didn’t think that you’d be suspicious of me having an affair. Never. Never. You and Lily are everything to me. Everything I’ve ever wanted. I don’t want a long engagement. I want to marry you as soon as possible.” He murmurs, kissing your upper lip.

You hum in agreement, knowing you don’t really care about a lavish wedding. Maybe just something at the courthouse. All you care about is being Marcus’s wife. “I’m sorry.” You apologize again. “She's so gorgeous and fit and I’m- post baby body.” You huff slightly. “I don’t think my postpartum is helping things either.”

Nodding in understanding, his hands slide along your waist, “baby. I think you look gorgeous but I understand. Do you - do you want to talk to someone? I know I am busy at work and you’re here - we can find someone who does online sessions?” He suggests softly, not wanting you to feel like he is pushing it, but he wants you to know he wants to help.

“I- that would be good.” You nod, feeling relieved that he’s not ignoring that you aren’t acting like yourself. You lean into him and breathe him in, smiling at the smell of his cologne. You’ve always loved this scent on him since the two of you picked it out together on your second date. “Thank you for understanding.” You bite your lip and move a little closer to him, pressing yourself against him. It’s been nearly three and a half months since you’ve had sex, felt him inside you. “Marcus….” You murmur softly.

His heart thumps and he knows what you need. He inhales sharply and his hands slide down to grip your ass, pulling you closer. “I’ve missed this. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured so I didn’t - I stayed away but baby…I want you.” He murmurs, nudging his nose along your jaw before kissing below your earlobe. “I miss the taste of your pussy. I want to taste you again.” His voice is raspy, coated with desire.

You moan, cunt clenching as it remembers just how good his tongue is. He’s always managed to make you cum on that tongue, buried inside you or flicking against your clit. “Don’t stay away anymore.” You beg, sliding your hands under his jacket and around his back. “I need to feel like you want me. That you still find me sexy.” You admit, voicing things that probably should have been said weeks ago. “I want to cum on my fiancé’s cock.” You moan.

He groans into your ear, kissing down your neck, and he walks you backwards towards the sofa, knowing he won’t be able to make it up the stairs. One hand dips under your dress, caressing your thighs, and the other reaches for the zipper on your back to pull it down. He makes quick work of removing your dress, leaving you in your underwear. His lips kiss down your neck to your chest, lathing his tongue over the swell of your breasts. His cock is pressed against his slacks but this isn’t about him, this is about you. His eyes look up to you as he sucks on your nipple through the nursing bra.

“Marcus!” You gasp out in shock at how different it feels from Lily’s tiny mouth, but your fingers burrow into his hair to hold him into place. He had joked about drinking from you when you were pregnant but when he hadn’t shown an interest after you actually produced milk, you had once again taken it as a sign that he didn’t want you anymore. Feeling some milk dribble out at the suction, you moan, hoping it doesn’t ruin the moment. “Sorry.” You whimper. “They’re full.”

He growls, “no. Don’t apologize. I’ve been wanting to taste you since your milk came in.” He confesses, not even blushing as he begins to suckle. Groaning when a spurt of milk escapes your tit and floods his mouth. He groans, his arms wrapping around you as he suckles harder and drinks some of the milk, switching to the other breast while he fumbles to unclasp your bra.

Your whimper is both relieved and aroused, looking down and watching him suck. “Baby.” You tug on his hair and are rewarded with his own groan against your nipple. “Oh god.” It’s so different from feeding your daughter, this makes your cunt clench and floods with arousal. “Oh fuck baby, h-how does it taste?”

“Fucking good.” Marcus groans, pulling back so he can pull your bra off of your arms. He surges back into your chest, taking the sensitive nipple back into his mouth as his hand slides down your side. Sinking into your panties so he can rub your clit, he doesn’t want to go too much too soon in case you are sensitive.

Whining, your hips jerk up, chasing his fingers and trying to push them down to where you want them, inside you. This is perfect, you aren’t thinking about your stretch marks or the loose skin on your stomach. Instead you are thinking about his mouth, his fingers, the hard cock that is pushed against your thigh. “Fuck baby, inside.” You beg, wanting him to finger you like he used to when you were on the couch watching movies.

He withdraws his fingers, making you whine, but he guides you back towards the sofa. “Come on baby. Sit down for me.” He orders, guiding you back towards the couch and he pulls your panties down just before you sit down. Spreading your legs, he kneels between them and leans in to kiss along your inner thighs. “So fucking beautiful.” He curses, nipping and sucking as he gets closer to your core. You whine with impatience and he doesn’t have the heart to deny you anymore. He slides his tongue through your folds, flicking your clit a few times before repeating the action.

“Marcus!” You lurch forward at the feeling of his tongue before you flop back against the cushions again. “Oh god baby, I-I’ve missed this.” You pant, reaching down and stroking his head. The last time you had done this, you couldn’t see him because of the baby bump and now you see the dark curls on his head while he feasts on you. “Fuck.” You spit, gasping out when he sucks on your clit for a second before he lets it go.

He doesn’t stop, his fingers digging into your thighs as he keeps them spread open. His tongue delves deep inside of you while his nose presses against your clit. Your tangy taste - the very taste he’s missed so dearly - makes him groan into your flesh. He wants you to cum, needs to make sure that tonight, you know there is no one else for him. Only you for the rest of his life.

God, he’s fucking talented with that tongue. Your eyes roll back as your hips chase it. Lifting when he pulls back slightly before diving in again. He’s thorough, having learned exactly what you like and uses it against you ruthlessly. Tongue swiping over your clit again and again with his nose pressed against your curls, not bothered by the fact that you’ve not waxed or trimmed in forever.

Marcus’s fingers caress your thighs and he shifts to push two fingers inside of you. Pulling away from you for a moment to check as he pushes the digits into you. He doesn’t want you to hurt but when you throw your head back and moan in pleasure, he dives back in to suck on your clit.

“Oh fuuuuuuuck.” You cry, gripping his fingers tight when he pushes them against the spot that drives you crazy. Since having the baby, you haven’t even fingered yourself and his thick fingers are incredible. “Oh shit baby, fuck, harder.” You beg, needing to cum before the baby wakes up.

He pumps his fingers into you, desperate for you to cum around them. His groan vibrates your clit as he sucks hard. His cock is throbbing, he missed this. Hearing your moans and cries, it’s been something he’s thought about when he jerks off in the shower, feeling guilty that he can’t get you off.

“Marc-“ you cut yourself off with a strangled cry, air trapped in your body as it tenses up. Heat and lightning flash through your veins and you swear your vision blacks out for a moment while your cunt contracts around his fingers. Trembling in pleasure while he works you through it, keening whimpers coming from you with every twitch of your body.

He works you through it, loving hearing you cry out in pleasure. He’s so happy to hear it after so long. “That’s it. Good girl. Good girl, baby.” He says, resting his cheek on your thigh so he can work you through it with his fingers, your fingers still tugging on his hair.

“Wow.” You give a small chuckle, amazed at how good you feel after that orgasm. You know you aren’t magically cured by cumming, but you are a hell of a lot more relaxed. Looking down on him with a smile, you let go of his hair to reach for his tie, still on in his haste to make you cum. “Marcus, fuck me.” You beg, needing him inside you.

He swallows, shrugging off his jacket, and tugging off his tie to toss them across the room. “Baby. You want me to get a condom?” He asks as he stands up to unbuckle his belt, unzipping his pants before he works on unbuttoning his shirt. He curses his decision to wear his best suit, he has far too many layers on.

“No.” You pant breathlessly, squirming on the sofa and holding your legs open in anticipation. He’s undressing too slowly for you, so you sit up and cup him before you hook your fingers into his briefs and drag them down so that his cock springs free. God, you’ve missed this, seeing him hard and wanting you. You wrap your fingers around him while he rips the shirt off and smirk before you duck your head and wrap your lips around the leaking tip, moaning at the taste of him.

Marcus hisses, the feel of your hot mouth making his hips jerk forward, but he doesn’t want your mouth. Not now. “Shit baby. Don’t. Don’t want this to be over too soon.” He murmurs, shifting to kneel on the sofa, and he gently grabs you to lay you down. He wants you to be comfortable. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, trailing his hands along your stomach and your sides until he gently squeezes your breasts. “And all mine.” He smiles, shuffling closer until he can notch his cock at your entrance.

You fold your arms over your stomach, hiding the stretched and discolored skin from where you had developed stretch marks during the nine months you carried Lily. You don’t like them, even with the way that Marcus looks down at you, tender adoration in his eyes. You moan, loving how he stretches you out when he pushes inside you. Your nails dig into his skin and you look up at him. “Marcus.” You whimper. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Please don’t hide from me. Never hide yourself from me. I love you. Every. Single. Part. Of. You. You are beautiful, all of you. I am so, so lucky to have you.” He murmurs, shifting to hover over you so he can kiss along your neck. He begins to move inside of you, his hand grabbing yours to pull it away from your stomach.

You are too busy feeling his thick cock pulse inside you to care about your stomach after he starts thrusting. Lifting up your legs to loosely wrap around his thighs and pulling him closer. Moaning loudly and praying that Lily doesn’t wake up before you can cum again. “I love you.” You whimper, catching sight of your new engagement ring on your hand where it is holding onto his shoulder. “I love you so much.” 

He notices your gaze and twists his head to kiss your hand, starting to rock into you. He wants to feel you cum around him. “Is this okay baby? Am I hurting you?” He asks, not wanting to hurt you after not being inside of you for a while and after you’ve given birth. “No. No. I'm okay.” You respond breathily, making him nod as he thrusts a little deeper. Your cunt feels like molten heat around his cock, gripping him, and he has to try and think of something else so he isn’t cumming in a few thrusts like a teenager .

Moans and whimpers fill the space between you. Every thrust into you feels like pure bliss. Sex between you and Marcus had always been good, even while you were pregnant with Lily and had to get creative with positions for your growing bump. Lifting your head, you press your lips to his while your hips match his rhythm, making him push deeper inside you.

“Jesus baby. Need - need you to cum before I do.” He pleads, reaching between you to rub your clit. He hisses when your walls flutter around him. He rocks into you, needing you to cum. “Please baby. Cum for me.” He pleads, leaning down to kiss your neck.

It doesn’t take long, just five or six thrusts combined with the rubbing of his fingers for you to fall apart for him. Crying out softly and clenching down around him while pleasure floods your body and you feel the rush of wetness coat his cock.”Oh M-Marcus!” 

He loves how you cry his name. Rocking into you to work you through it, and he hisses when you grip him hard. “Fuck baby. I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum. Can I- can I cum inside of you?” He asks, wanting to make sure you are comfortable. He doesn’t want to assume since this is the first time since Lily was born.

You moan and nod. “Yes.” You pant out, “I- I got an IUD when I went back to the doctor for my check up.” You promise him, not wanting him to think you would try to get pregnant so quickly after Lily. “Want to feel you fill me up.”

“God baby. I’m gonna - shit. I love you so much. So fucking much. Oh. Oh. Oh - oh fuck.” He grunts, pushing into you with a groan as he paints your walls with his seed, feeling connected to you in the best way possible.

You whine, loving how hot his cum feels inside you, rocking your hips up while he rides out his high and feeling it start to push out. Stroking his back when he finally groans one last time and turns to press his lips to yours. “I love you.” You whisper against his lips, loving how he collapses on top of you and both of you try to catch your breath. 

He kisses your jaw, trying to keep his weight off of you as he shifts to lay down beside you on the sofa. “I love you baby. There’s only you. Only you. I love you. I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” He says, kissing your hair as he pulls you into his chest, his softening cock still inside of you.

“Are you sure you want to put up with my crazy?” You joke quietly, still embarrassed that he had been putting together this amazing moment for you and you had been such a bitch, accusing him of cheating on you. 

“Always. I want you for the rest of my life. You’re so good to me. Like I said, I waited a long time for you, baby. I’m not gonna let you go. You and Lily are my life. I love you. Happy Mother’s Day, sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck.

“It is the third best day of my life.” You promise him. “The first one being the day Lily was born, the second being the day I met you and then today.” You smile, happy that despite the fact that today had started out rocky and you thought you were going to lose your boyfriend, Mother’s Day is now the day that you promised to become Marcus’s wife.

MasterList

Permanent Tag List:

@sociallyantisocialbutterfly @thewaythisis @thisis-theway @hanelijoy @readsalot73 @xocalliexo @cable-kenobi @roxypeanut @arrowswithwifi @badassbaker @javierpenaspinkshirt @wickedfrsgrl @lilangeldevil006 @fioccodineveautunnale @jade10077 @kirstiehenderson29 @fleurdemiel145 @pascalisthepunkest @tangledlove27 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @gamingaquarius @jaime1110 @yamaktaria @perksofbeingivyy @earl-01 @gooddaykate @emesispo @deathlife97 @martellthemandalor @a-ghost-in-the-tardis @dornish-queen @theocatkov @hb8301 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @sheerfreesia007 @visintaes @immortalstarme @takemepedropascal @nerdypinupcrystal @artemiseamoon @paintballkid711 @sirianisrock @engineeredfiction @frietiemeloen @mstgsmy @lilkermit14 @mrschiltoncat @thatgirlselectryc @lark-cale @hayley-the-comet @phoenixhalliwell @501theory @max--phillips @thegreenkid @chicken-nugget-puta @corrupt-fvcker @buckysbackpackbuckle @ohpedromypedro @moonlightburned @h-hxgirl @flightlessangelwings @f0rever15elf @kenedyybrooklin @mrsparknuts @meabravo @ilikechocolatemilkh @babybelou @aeryntheofficial @the-wishmonger @goblinqueen95 @awhiskeywithawinchester @thirstworldproblemss @xxidontwikeitxx @jedi-mando @castiel-barnes @20skai @barnes-dameron @artsymaddie @wigwitch @honeymandos @edencherries @sesamepancakes @darthadeline @april-14-blog @josepedropascal @mrsbarnes-rogers @heyitmelexie @bookshelvesandteacups @sweetsunflowerkisses @stardust-galaxies @mando-amando @blondekel77 @clydesducktape @justanotherblonde23 @rosiefridayrogersunday @moonknightscape @asgardianvamp21 @just-a-scavenger99 @lv7867 @thewayofthemandalorian @mimimi-stuff @linkpk88 @adamdrivercouldchokeme​ @jitterbugs927 @pascalsky @pedro-pascal-love @saltybreaddream​ @lovelyasfcuk​ @dinfarrik​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @leaiorganas​ @over300books​ @itstheanxietyforme​ @lucrezia-thoughts​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @pascals-cat​ @cyaredindjarin​ @morrison-mercury​ @theorganasolo​ @kiwi-the-first​ @historianwithaheart​ @tonysdayoff​ @chibi-yuki​ @anewrule​ @sleep-tight1​ @chattychell​ @ew-erin​ @pipsqueakkitten​ @wordsnwhiskey​ @cannedsoupsucks​ @oceanablue​ @stayherefor-evermore​ @iamburdened​ @antisocialshipper​ @bison-writes​ @captainjaspenor​ @doin-stuff​ @voteforpedropascal​ @kat-r-in​ @charmedthoughts​ @trippedmetaldetector​ @300mirrors​ @that-one-creepy-hoe​ @poison-ivy-girl90​ @iwasbusybeingdead​ @dragons-of-the-usa​ @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @carbonated-beverage​ @166869​ @lunaserenade​ @star-wars-hell​ @obiwanwhore​ @thisshipwillsail316​ @supernaturalcat7​ @selenium-drive​ @wardenparker​ @frankie-catfish-morales​ @notabotiswear​ @computeringturtle​ @the-ginger-hedge-witch​ @northernpunk​  @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind​ @sarhabee​ @princessxkenobi​ @planetariumx​ @xuum-xuum​ @sleep-tight1​ @mcueveryday​ @theamuz​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @nyasiaaaaa​ @missstef23​ @sherala007​ @winter-fox-queen​ @dihra-vesa​ @andruxx​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @acourtofsnakes​ @pedrostories​ @pedrosbrat​ @noz4a2​ @peachypoem​ @i-ship-it-ironically​ @strangelittlenobody​ @amneris21​ @ikinmahlen​ @littlemissoblivious​ @elvenmother​ @punkerthanpascal​ @thevoiceinyourheadx​ @prostitute-robot-from-the-future​ @softpedropascal​ @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @the-witty-pen-name​ @alexxavicry​ @thirdtimesthecharm​ @hypnoash​ @evyiione​ @pedritopascalito​ @ezrasbirdie​ @dani5216​ @knittingqueen13​ @moparmama927​ @nerdthickly​ @bport76​ @thisisthewayyy​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @tintinn16​ @kiki13522​ @sequere-mei-callipygian​ @ncsls0515​ @hellolitty​ @janebby​ @hauntedmama​ @kikis-writing-world​ @withakindheartx​ @practicalghost​ @xgoldenjenny​ @scorpiowidow​ @c4psicles-blog​ @spacenerdpascal​ @thatesqcrush​ @beardsanddetectives​ @loverofmime @xoxabs88xox​ @girlwholoveswords​ @balekanemohafe​ @bruxasolta​ @elinedjarin​ @deadhumourist​ @scorpio-marionette​ @actuallyprettylucky​ @jasminepaz @24-7-multifandomsimp​ @queridopascal​ @veronva​ @nagassia​ @lovesbiggerthanpride​ @fangirl-316​ @anaaaispunk​ @dobbyjen​ @pedromandoverse​ @beskarprincessjenny​ @detectivecarisi-1​ @joelsflannel​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @ladykatakuri​ @bestkaistes​ @adancedivasmom​ @kirsteng42​ @dumplinshee​ @thatpinkshirt​ @strangunddurm​ @everythingfan589​ @bloodsoakedkisses​ @alessab​ @squidwell​ @deliriosinrose​ @the-true-ruler-of-freljord-blog​ @borinquenasoy​ @shadesofnerdlygrace​ @thesmutslut​ @elegantduckturtle​ @ficsbynight​ @bbyanarchist​ @safe-within-the-stars​ @harriedandharassed​ @millson87​ @kaqua​ @pedrohoe04​ @apologetic-applebees @bluelemodane​ @hardc0rehaylz​

#pedro pascal #marcus pike #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #Marcus Pike x f!Reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike smut #Marcus Pike imagine #tw post partum #tw lactation kink #tw depression

[cazzythefrogking]

bit of a depressing pandora headcanon lol (tw post partum depression, death, su!c!d3)

anyways

so pandora lived longest out of the skittles, right?

so after everyone was gone, fae just overworked faerself and worked constantly. And she was depressed, and she was lonely.

So their coworker and friend, xenophilius lovegood, starts to notice, and comes over to their apartment and makes a suggestion. They should get married. pandora's a lesbian(and cupio) and xeno is aroace, so it was purely for company, tax purposes, and to have a child.

So, they do all that. And then luna lovegood is born. And at first, pandora is overjoyed. But then the postpartum depression hit. And everything starts to come back. All her friends deaths, and the war, and everything. And so, a year after luna was born, pandora commits su!c!d3. And xeno is heartbroken, because he just lost his best friend, and now he has to raise a child alone. But they dont wanna tell luna that, right?

so he says that pandora died in a work accident

#tw death #tw depression #tw post partum depression #tw suicide #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #the marauders #the marauders era #the marauders fandom #hp marauders #marauders harry potter #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #pandora #xenophilius lovegood #jegulus #luna lovegood #regulus black #evan rosier #dorcas meadowes #bartemius crouch junior #bartemius crouch jr #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #rosekiller #regulus arcturus black

[chickensarentcheap]

SNEAK PEEK. Just a little something I've been working on during a really depressive period.

WARNINGS: angst

@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @mrsmungus @asirensrage @ninjasawakenedmystar @thebewingedjewelcat @karimac @kmc1989 @alisbackalleybbq @themaradwrites @residentdormouse

****

“I don’t know why I acted like I did.  It was all just piling up and piling up. And suddenly, the past…your past…was right there in front of me. I didn’t know it would make me feel like it did.  And I definitely didn't know hat she’d be so beautiful and insanely smart and so much better than what I am.”

“She’s not.  None of that is true. She’s nothing like you.  And that’s no slight on her part. But she’s not YOU.”

“I mean, I knew you had a past. I knew everything that happened in it. But I never expected it to be thrown in my face.”

“That’s not what I meant to do. I wasn’t throwing anything in your face. I just didn’t think it would bother you. Because it IS my past.”

“It just hurt.  Having her there.  Trying to be my friend.”

“I think she was just trying to be nice.  Try to find someone common ground. Other than the whole ex-husband thing.”

“I just felt she was judging me.  Judging us.   For how we were living.  That it was nowhere near good enough.  And I don’t want her near Millie. I don’t know why. I just didn’t.”

“You’re a new mum. You’re protective. Of your cub.”

“I thought horrible things. And I’m not proud of that.  About her.  And wanting MY baby because she lost hers.  And I’m sorry. That I even thought that.  I’m not that type of person.”

“No. You’re not. Which is exactly my point. About something else going on.”

“I felt threatened. By her.”

“There was no reason to be.  She wasn’t there to tear shit up. To cause problems.  If anything, she appreciated what you did; letting her sister and her niece hide out there.  Mia’s got her issues. She had them when we were married and way before my boy got sick. But she wasn’t there to hurt you. She’s not like that.”

“What did you tell her? About me? You said that I didn’t hear that part.  What…?”

“I told her the truth.  That you’re the love of my life. That I didn’t regret a damn thing when it came to you.  And that if things didn’t happen the way they did, I never would have even met you.  And there’d be no Millie. And I wouldn’t give her up for anything. Or anyone.”

#Tyler and Esme series #sort of #tw: depression #tw: post partum depression

[happy-lemon]

Zahra Kamel came into the world at 4:43am on a rainy, gray Monday morning on the first day of autumn. Her first traits are artistic and athletic. Everly had an uncomfortable pregnancy and she's suffering from post-partum depression, so she hasn't warmed up to Zahra quite yet, but Farid is over the moon.

#ts3 #ts3 casual play #sims 3 #sims 3 casual play #nara au #everly dean #zahra kamel #st. claire #tw: post-partum depression

[mad-hunts]

#YOUR NEED GREW TEETH: character study. #barton's relationship with his mom. or lack thereof. he never got to know her because she left when barton was two. #he really kind of got the short end of the stick huh... #it wasn't her fault though. she had to leave in a panic because wesley almost killed her and he told her to never come back. #barton just... feels as if he was made to not have a mother to be honest. #like it was destined because there was something wrong with him from the beginning. #and lena ( his mother ) suffered heavily from post-partum depression which barton also blamed himself for once he heard about it... #hence why the woman in the picture is saying ' maybe your mother wasn't made to have a son. ' #tw: mentions of post-partum depression. #tw: mentions of missing a mother figure in your life / believing you weren't good enough for one.

[terrence-silver]

How would different eras of terry react to beloved having post-partum depression? So attached yet distant from their new born because the out of wack hormones and chemicals in their body cause them to behave that way.

― It is the 70's and Twig and society as a whole might not have an appropriate term for post-partum depression or fully understand just what it is, but all Twig knows is beloved is sad and tired and properly exhausted and he is sad, tired and properly exhausted along with them, or rather, for them, feeling every bit of their pain acutely, even though he is rightfully scared, anxious and not sure what to do. Is this his doing? Did he make beloved feel this way? He is a first time father, he is insecure and tremendously frightened of making a mistake and something being his fault again. Him failing somehow. Turns out, he is damn good at this and overflowing with love and concern, and he somehow manages to take care of beloved recovering, coo and raise their newborn all while refusing to hire a team of nannies he could very well afford and also juggle his newly budding business too, and all very happily at that, hands on young father that he is. Might even accidentally become something of a novelty icon of a new age business mogul (and a model on how this aesthetic should look like as an example to all other striving yuppies), landing in a couple of newspaper articles detailing him tending to his partner, raising his kid and running Dynatox in its infancy. Considering who he will become later and that he is effectively running a very questionable conglomerate in the making, this media sentiment behind 'A Corporate Father for a New Decade; The Art of High Level Multitasking' in the '78 issue of Forbes is actually very sweet and so is he.

― Terry Silver in the 80's is now an established man and he has the power, nay, the authority to take indefinite time off without question to spend with his ailing beloved and their baby. He is a CEO of an international company and if he wants to give himself six months off to deal with this issue, hey, who's to say he cannot? He can do and achieve whatever he likes. He makes and weaves the rule of business. And he does just that. Beloved isn't doing well after giving birth, but Terry just about hires every doctor, specialist, nurse and helper under the sun to try and aid beloved while he takes care of his newborn, possessively so. Could he also hire a nanny or ten in these trying times? Sure, but he also doesn't want anyone touching or handling what is his. His workaholic, manic, absolutely frenzied tendencies kick in, of course, where he somehow power-juggles taking international calls from Hong Kong, working from his mansion, letting the baby suck his finger while he seethes at a Dynatox agent from his private home study for a late delivery and coming back to bed to beloved with their bundle, trying to cheer them up. Snake and Dennis might be out on emergency three o'clock in the morning baby provisional runs because Terry just about ordered them to. It is a structured mess, but somehow, it works and things come under control (Would Terry ever allow things not to be under control?) and the first time beloved smiles again out of the bed he relegated them to, Terry knows that he's done a perfect job just like he knew he would.

― Old man Terry, present day, knows all about depression, chemical imbalances, wack hormones and feeling under the weather in general from personal examples and he, in a roundabout way, sees himself in beloved. Might just fall into a bit of a silent desperation himself. If beloved has post-partum depression, he just has anxiety and depression of the day to day, commonplace kind when hit with this irrational fear that beloved might never recover. That they will stay like this. That this is an end to their happy days. To everything good they had. That this a prelude to disaster. Gloom. Darkness. Intrusive scenarios he can't quite control or push away dominate his mind. The worst type of thoughts overtake him as he cradles his newborn and legacy and beloved's state might trigger his own mental instability because he is simply that afraid at the sight of beloved doing badly. Of course he is ecstatically happy. He never though he'd have an actual family and now he has one of his own choosing, but there is also such a thing as being so happy you're terrified. Terrified of everything. Terrified that your happiness can be stolen and stripped from you. That you can easily lose it. That this is temporary and time is running short. Time is always running short. He isn't young anymore. And he loves beloved and his child so much he might just beg beloved to recover. He'd kill for them to recover. Once they become of a more mellow mood, Terry is...well, he is so relieved it is him who needs recovering now.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #old man terry #terry silver twig #80's terry silver #tw; post partum depression #tw; pregnancy #tw; mental illness #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #dad!terry #terry silver as a parent #silver family #silver children

[daystold]

i love you so much and my heart aches knowing that i can't give you the world... that i can't contribute on making a wonderful life for you.

#depression #kinda depressing #tw depressing thoughts #post partum

[veryapocalyptic]

𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐒  staring at the view from her window, as Judyta was crying inside of the crib again. The tiny blonde kept standing, observing the world outside while she thought about life or whatever. She didn't even hear Hanna get inside her chambers. It was one of the guards, announcing her sister in law presence. ❛ Your niece is over there if you wish to play with her. ❜ She never knows how to approach her sisters-in-law or brothers-in-law, in general. Her only close connection undoubtedly was her husband. Until he fuck everything up.

@ofcarpesdiem​  💜 hanna 

#ofcarpesdiem #tw: depression #tw: post partum depression

[dreamlessprodigy]

Today is my birthday

Today is my birthday,

And I did not have a good day

And I just want to go on and say:

It was awful.

I woke up at 5am, a surprise nappy change for my little one

I bring him a bottle as he cries and I start my day with a yawn

My partner wakes up an hour later and says he is tired,

I just glare at him, baby in arms and eyes unwired.

 Today is my birthday, hip hip hooray

But alas, I did not have a good day,

My partner complains he is not well and lays down,

Meanwhile I wash the dishes, the clothes and give him a frown,

I check my facebook and see messages from strangers,

Happy birthday, they say, and other sorts of phrases,

My partner says his throat is sore and dry,

Meanwhile I sit on my bed and cry,

One day, I said, just one day I wanted,

But instead I feed my son absolutely gutted,

 Today is my birthday, and my fiancé is sick,

But he was fine the day before when he went on his trip,

My dad forgot to even send me a text,

And, to be honest, I don’t even know when I’ll see him next,

Today has been rubbish so to speak,

And my partner is saying how he feels weak,

 Over the last two months I have missed every outing,

As my fiancé has been ill, and my son and counting,

I have sacrificed my needs, my time and my fun,

 And to be honest, I’m just feeling a bit fed up and done

Today is my birthday and it was my one day,

And my fiancé has a cold and a cough, so he says.

I didn’t want much, just to feel some effort to feel special,

But today was another normal day, except I ate cake alone next to the kettle.

Post natal depression sucks, and I really feel the drain,

I sometimes long for my past days where I felt as right as rain

 Today is my birthday, and I am crying on the couch

All alone, writing this poem in a slouch

#poem #depression #post natal #post partum #poetry #birthday #break up #happy birthday #tw depressing stuff #mental health #sad #heartbreak #my heart

[dayanitas]

TASK ONE : NOTHING HAUNTS US LIKE THE THINGS WE DON’T SAY

In the social season of 1880, Dayanita Davalbhakta is the most desirable bride in all of London. Beautiful and clever, and with a vast fortune to inherit, opportunity for a girl such as Dayanita is near endless.

In the end, it is Kaan Demir she chooses. They are rich and beautiful both, and it is a match received well in society. In the April of that year, the two of them are wed.

It is not soon after that the trouble starts.

The thing with poison is that you never feel its effects immediately. Rather, it creeps up on you. This is never more true than when fed a low dose over a prolonged period. One drop spreads through the system, until it is running through every vein.

She has never fooled herself into believing that they were in love with one another. Their marriage was not about romance, but the union of two people who, on paper, needed something from one another, and negotiated like a business proposition. Still, whilst she did not look for love, she expected respect, and that was one thing Kaan Demir was not prepared to give.

It starts small, biting comments when she leaves for a night with Zoya or Arthur. Daya pays such comments little mind. It blooms into something more, arguments picked whenever she has a successful day at work. It culminates in blazing rows that leave her throat burning, her eyes stinging, and her mind racing with the possibility that Kaan could be right.

When she ends the day alone in the room she does not share with her husband, she is so full of rage that she cannot tell that some of it does not belong to her.

By the beginning of 1885, there is no denying that Daya is expecting a child. When the first signs had become apparent (a missed period, an aversion to the foods she usually adores, a bone-weary tiredness that she cannot seem to shake), she had stubbornly ignored it. It isn't that she does not want a child, but she certain does not want to have a child with Kaan. When they cannot seem to agree on the simplest of things, how are they to raise a child?

But as she grows larger and heavier, and her child begins to move within her, and Daya feels the first flush of maternal instinct towards him or her or them, it cannot be denied anymore. The child is coming, whether she wills it or not, and there is nothing she can do but lie there at night, one hand on her ballooning stomach, and hate so fiercely that she cannot tell that much of that hate is not her own.

By 1888, Daya is a shell of the woman she once was. The young woman who had so captivated London's social scene has all but vanished. Many who knew her then do not speak to her any more, The few who do are kept at arms length - all but her daughter, perhaps the only bright spot in the misery that has become her life.

Kaan is rarely around anymore, and when he is, things are worse than they have ever been, and anytime Daya thinks that things cannot devolve further, they do. He claims to be at work, but Daya believes differently, believes that another woman occupies his time. She still does not love him, but the shame of it burns - so raw and visceral that she cannot believe such a feeling comes from within her. What Daya does not realise is that it doesn't. Like her rage and her hate, her shame stems from somebody else.

In the January of 1889, Daya wakes under the water of a lake that decorates the edge of her garden. She has no memory of how she came to be there, for she has never walked in her sleep before. She opens her mouth to scream, letting in lungfuls of cold water, and as she rises from the muddy bed of the water, she coughs and splutters to clear her chest, gulping down as much fresh air as she can. She is full of anger and pain, and for the first time, she knows that it is not hers.

What she does not know is from where it came.

#inspo #self para #abuse tw #psychological abuse tw #just to be safe! #mental health tw #pregnancy tw #childbirth tw #depression tw #post partum tw #drowning tw #suicide tw #menstruation tw #mentions of

[dapurinthos]

my insurance company and i finally got in contact (because i refuse to leave messages due to the autism™ and play phone tag, especially when i have no idea what the call is supposed to be about because all i was told was 'call this number back!'), and it was one of those 'this is what your insurance currently is, have you moved, etc?'

and then came the mandatory up-selling portion. which manifested in the form of: 'are you interested in life insurance?'

cue silent:

[common courtesy cut as to not spill the misworkings of my neurotransmitters all over the place]

and i just vague: 'i've been suicidal in the past.' while doing some calculations in my head to realize that i have at least three different pre-existing conditions that they would Not Like.

'how many years has it been?'

me, thinking: not even one

':D :D :D i have major depressive episodes.' is the easiest way i can say it, as opposed to 'once a month my hormones like to fuck with me in the worst way' because trauma- and info-dumping on the insurance lady is not in today's plans. or ever's plans.

this gets the typical 'oh. i'm sorry.'

and it's been so many years of pretty much all the people around me knowing this, or at least something akin to this, that it's kind of weird to get that with the underlying thought of that's fucking horrible that i know lives there in the blissful minds of people who have never thought of throwing themselves off of a mountain and didn't because the resulting mess would just be incredibly inconvenient because it was in a foreign country.

oddly, being suicidal does give me motivation to clean my apartment because of a 'well if i'm going to kill myself i should make it as easy as possible for everyone else' because that whole gendered aspect of clean vs. messy suicides is ingrained in my head and then further enforced by it being hormonally-caused.

#tw: suicide mention #now i'm researching what evolutionary pressures could lead to pms & pmdd #& it's looking like i thought. which is: the 'modern' menstural cycle is a maladaptive state given our gatherer-hunter backgrounds #but i'm also giving that a side-eye because studies have shown that pms/pmdd is an indicator for post-partum depression #and this is something that is repeatedly validated throughout the world regardless of culture or genetics

[falling-through-the-cracks-again]

When I was 6, my mom gave birth to my last sibling, and suffered from post-partum psychosis. Back then, people didn't know a lot about it and certainly didn't talk about it. So my 20-something dad had to cope with a wife who was suddenly unrecognizable and a danger to herself, him, and their four small children. He was overwhelmed and ignorant and mostly alone in it, and he made a lot of mistakes. But we're all still alive, so that's something.

My mom was never the same, even after she recovered. She got tossed around from doctor to doctor and diagnosis to diagnosis. Depression. Schizophrenia. Bipolar. She went through tons of medications that sometimes made her an empty shell and sometimes made everything worse. She hated doctors, hated therapy, hated medication. I can't really blame her. We were also steeped in Christianity at the time, so she had well-meaning but entirely ignorant folk telling her she needed to pray harder, trust Jesus, pray for healing. Or think about what God might be trying to tell her. Religious guilt mixed well with the delusions and hallucinations.

I didn't know what was going on, though. How do you talk to a kid about something like that? It was just "Mommy is sick. Mommy doesn't feel well. Mommy has to go to the doctor's for a while." Meanwhile, she's staring at the wall. Whispering fucked up things to us, talking about demons and angels, the evils in the world and in our hearts. Being taken away crying, afraid, and obviously unwilling while me and my sisters watched from keyholes and around corners. Listening, terrified and confused. Everyone suddenly an enemy.

Once when I was seven, on the way home from a distant friend's house, she went off the road and drove into the middle of a field in a thunderstorm. She was crying and wouldn't look at me or my 3 siblings. She got out of the car and walked away into the field with her arms raised. She wanted God to strike her with lightning because she wanted to die. She ignored our terrified screams and tears as we begged her to come back. Lost in her mind, she didn't think about what would happen to us if she did die in that field in the middle of nowhere, far from home.

After that, I never trusted my mom again. It was heartbreaking and confusing. I never felt safe to express my own needs, wants, or emotions. I was always afraid of triggering her, making her too sad or upset to live. I blocked that memory for years, but the scars remained in my own mind, reinforced by her words and actions as I grew up. I know she was sick, but even after she got better, she was so fragile or explosive. Unpredictable.

It took me years to learn to communicate healthily, and to recognize that healthy relationships are reciprocal. Walking on eggshells, being afraid to show discomfort or fear or sadness about anything is not ok. It took me years to understand that even if something had happened, it wouldn't have been my fault.

#mental illness #mentally ill parents #adult children #trauma #healing #recovery #bipolar #depression #unpacking #tw suicide #tw sui ideation #mental health in america #post-partum psychosis #religious trauma

[septemberbells]

mary hamilton is the cruel mother is medea is la llorona

#honestly never occurred to me that murder ballads about mothers murdering their children could be post partum depression narratives #like i never thought about any of those songs from the mother's perspective lmao #or considered them as being about anything but child abuse/child murder #but huh “mother is possessed/suddenly becomes a different person” sure does sound like it could be a ppd/ppa story from before those words #child murder tw

[mintymarabell]

Postpartum.

A little something something to get the writing block away so I can do more. 😼🙏🙏

Tw: postpartum depression, c sections, no personal care, inflicted self harm from stress, therapy.

He wouldn’t really notice it, too caught up in caring for the baby and trying to give you the rest you needed.

He chalked your tiredness and numbness up from the emergency c section you had, the pills you were prescribed maybe making you loopy.

Your loss of appetite slightly worrying him but his son assured him it was normal.

After a week he’ll eventually start to worry for you, his son being pulled in by the figurative ear to see what’s the matter with you as you laid in bed with your hair unbrushed and slight circles under your eyes.

His son would kneel down at your beside not expecting you to be in such a position, he’ll feel of your head thinking you’re sick even taking your temperature but when he concludes you aren’t sick he’s confused even more now.

The two would just sit there dumbfounded not knowing what’s wrong with you, your poor mate thinks your dying and your step son also thinks your dying in some way so they scoop you up and haul you off to a different less experienced oomanologist but a female one.

She’ll know what’s wrong as soon as she’s heard the context, tell you’re mate you have postpartum depression and that it’s rare in human women.

You’re mate standing at the edge of the examination table, picking at his quills a new horrible habit he’s picked up that he knows you hate.

In yautja culture postpartum didn���t necessarily exist, only if the mother had a stillborn.

She’ll explain that it’ll last up to six weeks, you’ll need to be put in a minor medication and possibly therapy but that is low considering humans are not common on yautja prime.

By time you get home your son has taken the baby so your mate can care for you, he’s already got some of his staff on their way to earth to kidnap a therapist as he’s warming a bath and rubbing at your legs soothingly as he purrs.

When the post partum actually leaves, he will still be extremely protective of you. Always checking in and loving on you even more than usual, there are morning he will put the baby behind you as it sleeps and he’ll just lay there holding you against him.

He loves you so very much, you’re new therapist is also hoping you’re okay now too because he misses his family.

#yautja #elder yautja #monster #yautja x reader #monster boyfriend #so cute #yautja boyfriend #old man yautja #yautja stuff #yautja yes