#tw; pregnancy

[terrence-silver]

What would happen if beloved unexpectedly goes into labour when Terry is halfway across the world…

Staff.

Realistically, there's staff --- a whole enterprise of people running his mansions.

His affairs, if we will.

Now, I always enjoyed this idea that someone as rich and as powerful as Terry Silver has a network of carefully vetted and very meticulously picked staff around him that all function like well-oiled gear wheels in their own right; like, the man seems like he'd be extremely particular who he keeps around and everyone, I do mean everyone has their uses --- from the secretary assistant alerting him on upcoming trials, to the butler opening the front door, for example. Even the slightly rag-tag likes of Snake and Dennis who might've seem a bit baffling companionship to keep for a Billionaire; but hey, I envision they entertained him more than anything. You'd be shocked how hard it is to find someone who's just plain funny (and who can bring in news and observations from the streets of LA like a pair of mischievous imps when they don't serve as his sparring partners). And as such, I don't think a beloved of Terry's would ever truly be alone (that is just inconceivable and not an option), because Terry Silver's staff --- all of them; chauffeurs, Michelin star chefs, assistants, security detour members, the gardeners, the maids and on stand by private nurses and doctors for all we know --- function like an extension of his will and his presence from the other side of the world --- they're his eyes, his ears, his hands and his mouthpieces (and his Fist imported from Korea, as seen in Cobra Kai), if need be. It is Terry's way to almost be in multiple places all at once, because if he has to be away from beloved or the unprecedented thing like labor occurs, he has all fields covered and under control because his people will ensure everything goes immaculately and that they report back to him and keep him up to speed --- so, really, if beloved started giving birth while Terry's away...well, nothing would happen. Because Terry was ten steps ahead and thought it all through.

And since Terry himself is obsessive, I personally like to envision the staff he pays also has (covertly and not so covertly) obsessive tendencies too, simply because they're heftily paid and instructed to be by their Boss. Makes sense. If you're employed to ensure Boss' beloved and their baby is perfectly fine, you'll ensure Boss' beloved and their baby is perfectly fine by any means necessary.

#yandere staff? #yes yandere staff #i mean for example weren't snake and dennis pretty much mike barnes' handlers? yes they were #so we know for a fact terry likes varying degrees of crazed behavior from the people he pays #terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #tw; going into labour #tw; pregnancy #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #the fist

[happybird16]

How do you think Levi would react to coming home to find his pregnant wife cleaning the cat liter box?

That's yuck as it is but is especially not good for pregnant women due to the risk of a parasite that can be spread associated with kitty box duty.

Levi finds you cleaning and even though you're wearing a mask and gloves like is suggested is horrified to find you doing it at all.

You tell him you know he's had a hard day and know he doesn't like to do it and are technically being safe and wanted to finish it before he came home. What's he do?!

Sorry for the late response! This ended up being about the cat way too much lol. Here’s a 2.6k-ish word drabble!

Warnings: pregnancy mention, animal feces mention, some drama, brief mention of a possible miscarriage, otherwise very sfw and Levi is very sweet!

“Do you have to watch?” The question is a bit muffled, lips brushing against the soft cloth of your mask.

Sharp green eyes only blink slowly in response, an ear flicking. The cat always watches you, sitting nearby on an old table you’d moved down to the basement years ago. She seems almost proud, observing you clean up her mess. Like a queen, watching a peasant break their back in order to please her.

You had found her outside during a rainstorm, mewling softly below the patio. It’d taken some effort, crawling frantically through the dense underbrush in an attempt to reach the source of the desperate pleas. Sharp thorns biting into your skin and cold mud bleeding through your clothes, you clawed and clawed through the roses blocking the small cavern beneath. Heart beating loud in your ears, your pulse so frantic you could feel it in your throat, but finally there she was. A tiny mess of black wet fur, barely big enough to fill your hand. Abandoned, shivering from the rain, bright green eyes desperate for help.

“What did you do?” Your husband had asked, nose curling up at your bedraggled form. No doubt unhappy at the muddy footprints tailing through the entryway, or the small spots of red bleeding through your clothes. “You're filthy.”

Levi had protested the moment he’d spotted her, curled up protectively in your arms. “No. We don’t need a pet,” he’d said, crossing his arms in the middle of the kitchen. Eyes hard, his shoulders tense as if preparing to weather a storm. “They’re just a mess,” he’d said, backing away a bit as you approached, mewling mass in hand. “No. No no no.”

The very moment she was in his arms, burrowing into the warmth of his chest and staining his shirt as he thoughtlessly held her close, you’d won. “Oh,” the sound was so soft, almost a disbelieving coo. It seemed to take all the breath from his lungs, silvery eyes becoming soft and weak. “Hi, kitten.”

“Alright,” he’d acquiesced, using one finger to smooth out the wet fur on the very top of her little head. From his facial expression, it almost seems as though the shivering, no doubt starving little beast had somehow wounded him.

You think, in that moment, you’d somehow, impossibly, had a brief glimpse into the future. Or maybe it was a vivid daydream, brought on by the soft, wounded awe on his face. A vision of Levi holding a newborn, their head coated in a thick tuft of black hair. The same, almost fearful wonder filling his features as he cradles the small child to his chest.

“But you're cleaning up after it.” And of course, as always, Levi goes and ruins the moment with his mouth.

Despite his intention, Levi had immediately become attached to the little beast. He’d never had a pet growing up, didn’t know how to handle having something so foreign in the house. A creature that, despite a language and species barrier, seemed to understand him and find comfort in his presence. A constant companion, lovingly wedging itself between you in the bed and taking up as much space as possible.

It was almost cute, the way Levi had immediately done all sorts of research, determining which plants were dangerous and which cleaning products were no longer viable. Whether she was old enough to be off of milk or which foods would be best for a growing kitten. Those first few weeks, your husband often came home with armfuls of toys, treats, and cans of wet cat food.

You almost laughed the first time you’d found him dozing on the couch, a quickly growing mass of black fur purring softly on his chest. Despite his desire to not become attached, the black spot never seemed to leave his side. She’s his cat, even to this day.

She's only grown larger in the passing years, now a full grown adult. Her chest wide, tail long and fluffy, finally growing into her giant paws only a few years ago.

Now she sits, her chest puffed out proud and regal, long fur perfectly brushed by your husband on a near daily basis. Years from now, will you feel the same about your own child? That your years together have passed far too quickly, time disappearing in the blink of an eye.

It’s odd to think that the future you saw, all those years ago, is now only a handful of weeks out. Your belly is growing heavier and rounder by the day.

Gripping the scoop in your gloved hand, you dig at a relatively fresh spot of wet litter, the clay dark and lumpy. Ammonia fills your senses, strong enough to almost make your eyes water. Curling up your nose, you deposit the mess into a small plastic bag. “You're a menace, you know that Sweetheart?”

It’s not her name, but she has so many cute little nicknames at this point you aren’t sure she’d respond to her actual title. Both you and your husband seem to refer to her by anything but.

“Mmrph.” She responds, humming an odd chirp.

There’s a large smattering of grey clay dusted all around the box, somehow spraying almost a foot from the edge of the plastic. “Why do you always kick up so much litter?”

The smell of the next scoop almost makes you gag. “It’s no wonder Daddy insists on coming down here every day.” You can’t even imagine letting this fester for a week, much less longer.

It’s a new habit you're trying to build, referring to Levi in such a way. Even now, sitting all alone except for a furry companion, the moniker makes your heart do somersaults. Something squeezes in your chest, butterflies filling your stomach and emotion welling up in your throat far too easily.

Other than this, the basement is pretty much storage. Boxes upon boxes of little knickknacks and photo albums. Stack of old books from college days, both yours and his. A quickly growing pile of furniture, as Levi clears out his office to make room for the newborn.

There's a series of round brownish spots splayed out in almost a spray, staining the cement floor in the far corner of the room. “You threw up, too?”

“Mrrrah.”

“Making even more work for Mama, huh?” That’s a new term as well, something a bit more difficult to get used to.

“Mhmmrp.”

“You're awfully chatty today, huh princess? Do you like to watch…”

“What do you think you're doing?” Levi startles you, his deep voice cutting you off mid sentence. Heart racing from the small jolt, you turn to watch him speak from the top step. The stairs creak and groan, though still much quieter than you could ever hope to achieve, in his descent.

He looks so handsome in his white button up and dress pants. The sleeves carefully folded up to expose his toned forearms and bulging veins. Levi may hate wearing a ‘monkey suit’ to the office everyday, but damn if he doesn’t make it look good.

“Levi! Your home early!” You call, putting the litter scoop down with a soft clack.

The cat jumps, abandoning the table and quickly crossing the basement to greet him. Stretching, she puts her paws up on his knee so Levi can lean down and pat her head. “Hey there, kitten,” he greets right back.

It’s funny that he still calls her that, even after all this time. She’s far from a kitten now.

Pulling down your mask, you walk -not quite waddling, though it’s closer than you’d like to admit- over to greet your husband at the bottom of the stairs.

“Why are you down here? I heard noises.” Levi’s gaze bounces from your face to access the room, trailing to the box you’d just abandoned.

Heat floods your face, dusting along your cheeks and the tips of your ears. “I was just talking to myself.”

“I know you were talking to the cat, you do that all the time.” Obviously, you knew he knew, but it feels embarrassing to hear out loud. The cat has such an intelligent, knowing, look in her eyes and is so responsive, you really can’t help but chatter back and forth. Sometimes you even attempt to mimic the odd chirps right back at her.

”That wasn’t what I was talking about,” Levi continues, his voice suddenly firm. “You shouldn’t be down here, it’s not good for you.”

“It wasn’t too hard for me to get down the steps,” you sooth thoughtlessly, waving a hand in the air as if to say ‘no big deal’.

An understatement if there ever was one. Truthfully, it was a bit difficult to navigate down the old creaky steps, trying to see your feet around your growing belly. The added awkward weight certainly didn’t help, making you feel constantly off balance.

You feel so useless, this far into your pregnancy. On leave from work, all you can do is sit around at home and wait. Wait for the laundry to get done, wait for the next episode of your current favorite show to air. Wait for the next meal to fill your stomach, constantly gnawing at your insides no matter how much you snack. Wait for Levi to come home from his long shifts at the office, hopefully for his next free day to spend together. Wait for the day that your water breaks, followed by a subsequent rush to the hospital.

It’s only been two weeks and you already feel like clawing your eyes out, every muscle in your body screaming to move move move. Your brain is begging you to do something, anything.

“No. I told you before that cat litter is dangerous for pregnant women.”

Oh. “But…I was wearing a mask,” you start, lip quivering as your husband's gaze doesn’t get any less stern. “…and gloves,” you hold your wrists up showing the latex encasing the digits.

Levi only clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “ I told you not to. That was a bad idea in your condition.”

“But…you always complain about doing the litter…and…,” you trail off, cut short by the serious look on his face.

“The ammonia could be bad for you,” Levi explains, “and there’s that nasty parasite that can cause miscarriages.” Even though the cat doesn’t set paw outside, Levi still worries endlessly at the possibility. “Plus, you shouldn’t be hunched over like that anyways.”

Just like when you’d found the kitten, he’d immediately started researching the moment you’d tested positive. Buying tons of little advice books and glaring into his phone during bouts of frantic googling. During your doctor's appointments, the man always comes prepared with a whole list of questions, using terminology far beyond what you care to understand.

Hormones raging, tears build up along the corners of your eyes. These days it feels like you're always on the verge of something, be it unfettered rage or a long hard sob. You can already feel your throat tightening, filling with the sour emotion. “Don’t be mad! Please!”

Levi’s never been mad at you before. In all your years together you’ve never fought once, not even a tiny little squabble. But for some reason, right now, with your mind filled with such odd frantic upset, you obsess over it. You’ve heard him yell before, only ever at strangers and Hange, but now you imagine it aimed at you. The shadow of his voice loud, angry, echoing in your ears in unfiltered rage.

You’ve waited so long for this. Struggled and hoped, trying again and again, Levi at your side, for the day you’d welcome a new life into your home. And now you're ruining it with your carelessness. His imagined disappointment weighs heavily on your shoulders, only making the emotion in your throat tighter. A large ball that you struggle to swallow around, barely managing to keep a sob from bleeding through.

“Shh. Shh. Come here.” Hand soothing along your back, Levi pulls your hip to rest right against his own. “I’m not mad.”

“You just do so much!” On top of everything he already does, the man is even putting in extra hours at the office while you're on leave, attempting to help smooth out the gap left by your reduced pay. Hospital bills approach, after all. “You work so hard and I spend all day doing nothing! I just wanted to do something little to help out.”

“You don-,” Levi starts, but you interrupt, voice cracking with emotion.

“I’m sorry-,“ there’s a rough, wet hiccup that you couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry-,” a full on sob finally escapes your throat. “I just feel so useless lazing around every day.” You haven’t even been out of your pajamas for a week, simply switching to a new pair in lieu of your ill fitting day clothes.

Sensing your worry, the cat brushes against your leg. Soft fur brushing against the leg of your pajama pants, rumbling calmly as she purrs to comfort you. It does, but only a little.

“No no no.” Levi pulls you into a tight hug, swaying you gently and pressing a quick kiss into your hair. Wetting his crisp white shirt, your cry into the fabric, shoulders shaking. Mouth suddenly, somehow, feeling both too wet and too dry, your running nose only adds to the stain.

“Hey, hey. Look at me love.” Pulling you back from the hug, you blink hard to clear away the blurry wetness and meet his gaze.

Fingers smooth along your cheeks, clearing away the tear lines with soft strokes. “You're not just lazing around, you're growing a new life. Our daughter is growing right here.” Levi’s free hand smooths along your stomach, a wide circle against your rounded skin. “You're doing more than enough.”

“But…”

“But nothing. You don’t have to do anything else.” With the soft words, Levi pulls you back into the embrace. It’s a little funny, how the both of you have to bend in order to hug now, your growing belly pressed against his flat one.

Fingers drum into your shoulders. “You do so much to help me out every day that you don’t even realize. Let me handle little things like this, just for now,” Levi states, calm tone and patient.

“O…okay.” It’s amazing how, with just a few soft words, Levi’s managed to ease your upset. Maybe that’s part of the inconsistent waves of hormones too, you think.

“I brought home dinner…and more pickles,” Levi spits the last word out, his face twisting up in a dramatic display of distaste.

Despite loving vinegar as a cleaning product, Levi absolutely abhors the taste. Still, he endeavors to suffer through your cravings with you, tasting all of your odd concoctions, day after day, and complaining the entire time. He’s always so overdramatic about it, just last week scrunching his face up tight and almost spitting at the mix of pickles and peanut butter. The memory brings a small smile to your lips.

“Thanks…”

Said dinner is no doubt healthy, carefully picked out for your dietary needs. Levi’s far more strict about it then you’d care to be. After all, you sorely miss night time chats over steaming cups of tea. A little caffeine couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Go wash your hands. I’ll finish up here,” Levi starts, eyeing the spot of vomit in the corner.

Turning towards the steps, Levi stops you with a firm grip on your wrist. “Remember, we’re a team. We’re in this together. Don’t ever stress about not doing enough.”

“Mrrph.” The cat chimes in, already mounting the steps in your stead, silent despite the old wood.

“See,” Levi starts, nodding his head towards the feline. “Rose agrees. We’re a family, we take care of each other.”

#asks #moot.Eliza #mydrabbles #CatDad!Levi #Dadvi #levi ackerman fluff #levi/reader #Levi x reader #Levi x reader fluff #tw; pregnancy #tw; miscarriages #it’s just mentioned as a possibility though #levi ackerman #attack on titan #I can go eat dinner now yayyyyy

[essenceofhispenance]

@impercre (IRULAN)

Chani would always be more active at night. There certainly were differences between herself and the City Fremen that made up much of Feyd-Rautha's staff, but Chani met them easily in the nature of their culture.

Her superstitions regarding her pregnancy only made her seek them out more if and when she felt confident enough to leave her quarters. She took her traditions to heart. They had helped her follow the forms.

Her quarters had been sand scrubbed to cleanse her home, there had been chants and spice talismans to encourage a quiet and safe birth. There was advice and prayers, and from an elder now, who had her hands on Chani's belly in the dark of the hallwayy, she was given a new rite of passage.

Such was the way of women within their own community to build and support one another. The father in this was unimportant, the blessing and safety of the child was all that mattered. New successful life meant the continuation and therefore benefit of the tribe.

Chani had noticed the princess royal when such a blessing was completely. As silently and quickly as this gathering commenced it dispersed, keeping holy precious things as they should be.

"I did not know you to be awake in this time." Chani said softly, complying with the rules of the great silence.

#impercre #V: feyd lives AU #tw; pregnancy

[julianobungus]

Addition to the Huntleb spice from before where Hunter is a camboy. One special video has both Philip and Caleb fucking Hunter’s ass at the same time, both men wearing masks as they give Hunter more cock than he can handle

Yes!! Philip wears a bronze deer-esque mask, while Caleb wears a simple black face mask; Hunter is so wide and strained, he can fit both his father and his uncle's cocks into him at the same time. He moans and stretches out like a lazy cat as he's mated on the bed.

Bonus if a couple months later, Hunter finds out he's been knocked up~

#huntleb #empgold #dead dove do not eat #dead dove #tw pregnancy #pregnancy kink #tw; pregnancy #mpreg

[heygutlcss]

@grazziella (GRAZIELLA)

He’d felt pretty good about this morning. Grazie had been sleeping on the pull out with him in the small hours of the morning when he was wired and wide awake. He’d quietly left his apartment with his tool box in hand, wanting to do something nice for her. 

He wanted that so she wouldn’t realize what a shithole he lived in compared to her pretty as a picture place. it wasn’t like he wasn’t clean or didn’t take care of his apartment-- hell, he’d sanded the floor down to fresh wood when they tore O’Conner’s down in 1956 ( much to his landlady that he subletted the living room  within the apartment from's dismay. he couldn’t have afforded the whole apartment). He’d been going out of his mind with the lack of work, and had yet to get a new job on account of that lingering fear that Mr. Moses would tear that down, too.

He’d  hopped down the stairs two at a time to the third floor where Ms. Iesha’s, a sweet little old lady who wouldn’t let anyone call her by anything other than her first name,  electric had gone out again. The wiring on the floor was bad, and she wanted things on for when her grandson would wake up  to get ready for work.  She had that way of calling anyone who helped her out baby doll and when she hadn’t enough money to pay him for his service, she made up the rest with six eggs and fresh bottle of milk. This was exactly what he’d wanted. He’d popped the cap and sucked the fresh cream off the top before going on his way throughout the tenement.

Mrs. Giordano on the fifth floor was going on about her radiator again, so fearful that the thing would kill her in her sleep. He still couldn’t find anything wrong with it, but took her word for it and looked at it all the same. Like the woman before her, she hadn’t enough money to completely pay and made up the difference with one of seven of  the fresh loaves of bread she made weekly.  And so it when on until the red and purple hues of the rising sun peaked in through the tenement’s windows.

  he’d sauntered back to his apartment covered in grease, cobwebs, and grime, before sneaking off once again to the only bathroom  on his floor to take a frigidly cold shower since they’d stuck a new lock on the boiler room. Like that would keep him out. He’d have  to go break in and fix it later.

He was standing in his little kitchenette ( which was nothing more than the GE sink/stove combo with one lone kitchen cabinet) using two of his eggs for french toast and watering the other four down with the remaining milk to stretch it into an omelet for the two of them. He wanted something fancy for someone as great as her.

“What?” He’d been running his mouth before this. Before she said the thing. What a way to ruin a perfectly good morning.

“What you stop checkin’ your temperature or somethin’?” He’d moved the  pan off the  heat so it wouldn’t burn. He’d neglected to turn the burner off, he was too focused on her. “and you got that thing shoved way up there.” He’d made a hand sign to indicate the diaphragm with a sound effect to mimic what it sounded like to him when he’d last witnessed her stick it way up  in.

“And the Durex, the fuckin’ Durex. Shit’s expensive.” His only experience with the notion of the condom before buying them himself had been back before he’d gotten kicked out of catholic school. The G.I.s had begun to come home, bringing government issued condoms with them. The nuns had drilled the notion of contraception as a sin and murder of potential babies as well as premarital sex being an instant ticket to hell into all their students heads.

Riff had that longstanding fight with God over the nature of his existence. What better way to flip the old geezer off than to follow a hooker around town until he could find where she got her condoms? The neighborhood was full of Catholics. Irish Catholics,  Spanish Catholics, and Italian Catholics. Sure, there were some Presbys here and there, among other faiths, but the dominant religion had issued the taboo to the point that Riff couldn’t just waltz into a pharmacy to ask for them. Most often, they wouldn’t carry them. Not too many people bought them.

“ You pee for a doctor yet? You ain’t done that then it ain’t certain. Okay?” He should have been cooler about this. He should have taken it in stride or worn his best poker face. he simply couldn’t. Not with her. Not about this. Not when the only home he had ever known was being torn down brick by brick and the space to live within it was growing smaller and smaller by the day. He’d be squashed under the wrecking ball long before he could ever figure out that there was more world out there than his few city blocks.

“So.. so, so, so... uh.” He’s breathing harder, talking with his hands, “ What? What, uh, what, shit, what, aw hell, what do you want to do?” He’d leaned back, placed  his hand on the hot burner and swore the worst curse that he could muster. He turned off the stove, flipped on the sink  to stick his hand under. He’s hyperventilating now. It is not a good day. Not at all.

#grazziella #c; riff #V:? #tw; pregnancy #I present THE BABY THREAD #also wow his reaction in a canonish verse is a complete 180 from our victorian verse. poor kid is in complete panic #also if any of this is too much or you want changed let me know!

[femmeraege]

wildernesslaughtered asked: "I just want you to know how much you mean to me. You're my best friend, and I love you."

"Wh- Why-- Why are you talking like I'm gonna die--" Shauna cut herself off, gritting her teeth around a scream as she bore down against the all-consuming pain. Lurching for Jackie, Shauna sucked in a breath, her voice ragged when she gasped, "I love you so much, Jackie, I'm so sorry."

#shauna; interactions #shauna; dynamics ( & jackie ) #tw; pregnancy #tw; childbirth

[stillgrxwing]

@bcssbitchs​ // daemon & rhaenyra

OH, SHE COULD KILL HIM. Yes, she had been plenty angry with him as the time had gone on, she had allowed her blood to boil and stew over for the past few weeks since they had split, and begun living seperate lives. Where she had found COMFORT in the arms of other men, and he had found it in the arms of other women. And she had been content to sit and stew and bitch about it because maybe their relationship never existed outside of the walls of their homes back home. But then, Syrax had grown emotional herself, Rhaenyra hardly allowed to get near her let alone ride her, similar to how she had been in the early stages of Rhaenyra’s pregnancy with Jace at the very least. AND, OH SHE COULD KILL HIM, BECAUSE SHE JUST KNEW. It hadn’t taken those fancy tests that the poor lady at the drug store had handed her with judgement laced eyes as if Rhaenyra had not already been pregnant far more times than the women believed. And of course, Daemon would come back, he always came back, and the second she saw him step off Caraxes... OH SHE HAD NEVER BEEN SO MAD. “You ASSHOLE.” She choked out stepping onto the grass of the backyard of the home they had once shared. “I should kill you, I should feed you to Syrax!”

#( dear brother. i had hoped that you were dead. || rhaenyra targaryen ) #tw; mental health #tw; pregnancy

[cffidelityy]

@talesfromthevoiid asked “ hey! i got you starbucks! decaf, of course. ”

"Thanks love," Sigyn says as she struggles to rise from her seat on the couch. It had not been long since she and Peter discovered they were expecting, but they were happy, nonetheless. Peter had also been great about helping her with the random midnight cravings and wild emotions. So far, things were going well. "How was work today?" She asked, a bright smile on her face.

#talesfromthevoiid #v; abc's of crime fighting #;give me the burden-- give me the blame {answered} #tw; pregnancy

[featheryfoxes]

A wip since my New Years Resolution is to write more

"Uncle Vegas is hurt!” Fon shouted out from behind her, a look of fear painting both kids faces. 

“There’s blood!” Kit cried as she grabbed Porsche’s hand trying to drag him in the direction of her uncle. Chay and Fon rushing ahead able to move faster than Porsche’s waddling pace. He held his breath, hoping against hope that it wasn’t happening again.

Porsche wasn’t sure that Vegas could survive losing another child, nearly four years of <i>trying</i> not to mention the ones from before, the ones he never wanted but still had the heart to mourn.  

They reached the scene already swarming with medical personal, Vegas in the middle true to Kit’s words blood was running down his thighs.  He was gritting his teeth and Porsche could smell wilted rose and lotus

#kinnporche the series #omegaverse #vegaspete #wip #tw; miscarriage mentioned #tw; pregnancy

[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

[lostxdrcams]

Continued from [ x ] @musesatyourservice

He couldn’t lie, when he’d seen the pregnancy test in the trash he’d been both nervous and excited. But he’d seen the negative result and knew that Davina would need him to be there for her. “It’s okay, love. It’ll happen when the time is right.” He pulled her into a hug, pressing his lips to her crown of her head. “We’ve got time.”

#kol; interactions | [ your words are hypnotizing ] #interactions; davina claire #t; pregnancy test #tw; pregnancy

[essenceofhispenance]

@impercre (FEYD)

when she had first suspected signs of life she had told him of her rights as a mother before she ever mentioned she would have a baby at all.

She has disregarded the forms during the war. She hadn't nested or burrowed as she should have. She didn't follow the conventions of the greater silence.

There was a greater fear of the ramifications of disregarding that tradition than the notion that she might give her man a son for his first born.

Her superstitions prioritized her mind in that time, only interacting with other Fremen within his staff, and hardly leaving the parts of his palace that she felt the safest. She was worried she might be punished by her gods again for breaking such forms. She could not handle another loss.

Now, however, she was restless. The two years of her acceptance would come to an end before the baby would come. Or perhaps the baby would come in the middle of that. Now was not the best time.

It weighed heavy on her mind when there was only one time to decide between themselves if she would enact her right to leave.

"he kicks. " She mumbled, "do you want to feel it?"

#impercre #V: feyd lives AU #tw; pregnancy

[vivxdhearts]

@ragdclls​ // shuri & diana

“I was meaning to ask you something.” Shuri started nervously fiddling with the blanket that she was sitting on top of. She had yet to get comfortable, GRANTED there was no getting comfortable anymore at 4 almost 5 MONTHS pregnant with twins. Her whole body was sore no matter what, no matter how she laid or if she stood or sat or ANYTHING. And really, she wouldn’t have changed it for the world. “And I know, it’s still early, and we don’t even know if their boys or girls or one of each, it’s just about their names.” 

#( just because something works doesn't mean it can't be improved || shuri ) #tw; mental health #tw; pregnancy

[julianobungus]

Luz Noceda going into labour.

#dead dove #dead dove do not eat #tw; pregnancy #tw; labor

[savagekxds]

★ – — starter for adan @xavecamour​ pre-P.A.M. explosion

All she could do was thank god that the healers at Mungo’s had insisted on having a direct line to her home after her bout of apendicitus. She was still two weeks from her due date, and though her stomach was overwhelmingly large, Leilani had felt confident that the baby would stay put for that time. 

Until she heard about the battle on her radio. She wasn’t sure if it was the stress, her worry for Adan overwhelming, her perhaps her child had simply decided it was time. Her water broke barely an hour after she’d heard the announcement, and contractions followed soon after. 

St Mungo’s was a nightmare, people and blood everywhere, healers rushing to and fro as a trembling nurse pushed her wheelchair through to their maternity ward. “Adan Savage,” she’d asked breathlessly, one hand clutching the nurses hand, the other holding her belly, “Adan Savage, he’s an auror, he needs - ah! - he needs to be here! I need him!” The nurse had said something in response but she couldn’t hear her over the din around them. 

An hour later and she was still in labor, the contractions coming quicker and stronger with each passing moment. “I can’t do this,” she sobbed softly to a different nurse, who sat next to her holding her hand, “I need-I need Adan, I can’t do this....I can’t...”

#tw; childbirth #tw; pregnancy #★ – — adan tag tba #★ – — leilani threads #xavecamour

[stillgrxwing]

@bcssbitchs​ // rhaenyra & daemon

SPOILED. That word was still ringing in her head once she had approached her uncle. HOW DARE HE? Harwin had never treated her as just another princess who sat around that table. NEVER ONCE. Yet the second, she had allowed one single moment of selfishness, THAT was what had determined his whole view of her? She wasn’t sure who this Harwin Strong was... but she was beginning to doubt it was the man she had loved. The father of her children. The father of her unborn child. “I want to go out.” Rhaenyra insisted, settling next to her uncle. She had known that it was a lot. She was now pregnant, she was not the young girl she had been when he had taken her out to Flea Bottom. But, she needed to forget her life for one moment. “And I think you need it too. Laena told me what happened, and I’m sorry.” Rhaenyra started. “But... the only way either of us are going to feel better is by trying to have a night out.” she insisted. “And I just... I need some time with NOT being the princess everyone expects of me. Can you do that for me? Just this once?”

#( dear brother. i had hoped that you were dead. || rhaenyra targaryen ) #tw; mental health #tw; pregnancy