#Nursing Breast Pads Demand

[gay-spock]

here’s a compilation of why rick berman of star trek fame could have ruined the franchise with his bigotry, thanks to @/thisismewhatevs on twitter:

- rick berman is usually cited by writers as the main reason gay characters were not allowed on screen in TNG/VOY/DS9/ENT even though gene roddenberry specifically wanted gay representation in the 1980s

- notably, he is responsible for demanding female actors be "sexed up" in various ways including jeri ryan's catsuit and padding terry farell's breasts

- when terry farell asked for a reduced contract similar to those of her male costars, she was fired, leading to the sudden death of jadzia dax

- with seven of nine's catsuit, not only was it berman's idea to make her "born sexy yesterday" her original costume pinched her neck so much she kept passing out. rather than change it, berman brought in nurses to administer oxygen between takes

- berman would continually comment on the appearance of female actors to the point that marina sirtis developed an eating disorder. sirtis also mentions how tight her corset and how large her breast padding was under her "uniform"

- berman was left in charge of trek because he was in the right place when roddenberry got sick. He had no experience with scifi previously and didn't really believe in roddenberry's vision of the future:

- In addition to being a dick to denise crosby after pushing her out, he's also the reason for wil wheaton was kicked out for similar contact negotiation as terry farrell

- harry kim was never promoted from ensign since berman hated his actor, garrett wang, according to him

- enterprise was a step backwards in a lot of ways because berman had far more creative control (seasons 1-3) and took a much more hands on writing role. here's t'pol actor jolene blalock discussing his sexualization of her

- as DS9 went on, garak and bashir spent less time together and garak was given zyial as an incredibly gross love interest because andy robinson's portrayal as queer coded made berman uncomfortable

- despite the "equality" promoted on the show, berman hired very few female writers, with less than 30% of episodes having even one female writer during his time

- “Rick Berman is not the only asshole to have worked on Star Trek and he is not the reason for every bad choice from TNG-ENT. However HE WAS the executive producers and show runner in charge of production so much of the sins of that time lie at his feet. When people get confused about how some people seem to "misunderstand" the point of Star Trek and don't know how they can watch/enjoy the "progressive" nature of the show and be such vile sexists and racists, this is how. They let a sexist asshole run the show for three decades. On screen representation is important. It's amazing for people to see themselves in such a hopeful future, but the behind the scenes matters just as much if not more than who is in front of the camera. Representation without responsible storytelling is a tragedy.“ -Deep Space Fine on twitter

this is not to say that TNG/DS9/VOY/ENT are bad shows, or that they shouldn’t be watched, or anything else; but that understanding why these awful choices were made behind the scenes in depicting a “progressive” future. rick berman didn’t agree with this future because he didn’t want others who weren’t white, cis, straight men like him to benefit in the ways he did.

[lovecanyon]

Y/N’s Two Boys

gang!harry x reader

MASTERLIST | PATREON

-

“Harry?”

Harry softly shushes Y/N as he slowly sits down on the bed. Glancing at his sleeping son in his bassinet made a smile grow onto the father’s face, ignoring the throbbing pain that came from his bleeding hand. Even though it was dark, Tate’s baby night light helped Y/N see her husband’s hand wrapped around a white shirt with blood seeping through the fabric.

Almost instantly she sat up with a concerned face.

Y/N knew marrying one of the most dangerous men on earth had consequences including him coming home late with blood dripping off of him.

“Your hand-“

“It’s alright darling.” Harry whispers standing up from their bed. Not wanting to worry Y/N any further—or wake up their son—he heads to the bathroom to clean up. Not even five seconds after he shuts the door quietly, his lover opens it and walks in with a slight panicked expression.

Harry quickly noticed that she was only wearing a nursing bra and a pair of his boxers. Seeing her like this made butterflies fly in his stomach. The stone cold woman he met six years ago when he was just twenty had him wrapped around her finger. He still couldn’t believe he ended up with his dream girl.

Not even bothering to question him again, Y/N walks around Harry and bends down to get the first aid kit from the cupboard below the sink. From the very first time she cleaned him up after his dangerous ‘work’, Harry knew Y/N would be the one.

“Shirt off please.” Y/N mutters as she opens up the kit and grabs a couple of cotton pads along with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide to clean up his cuts.

“But I’m fine-“ Harry tries to stop his wife but he gets interrupted.

“Shirt. Off.” Y/N says with a demanding tone. Seeing that she was serious had Harry swiftly peeling off his shirt that was stained with his or someone else’s blood. With her usual soft tone she apologizes. “Sorry. I just don't like seeing you this way.”

He knows she hated seeing him like this. Torso bruised up, knuckles bleeding and lip cut open.

“You don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have gone out tonight—I should’ve sent Mitch or Pauli instead-“ Harry’s rambling gets caught off by Y/N’s lips pressing against his.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Harry softly smiles into the kiss. Even though his lip stung at the contact, he feels Y/N’s nose nudge against his which makes his grin grow even bigger.

“Now let's clean you up so nothing gets infected.”

Once Harry’s hand is bandaged up and a clean fresh shirt is over his bruised torso, he and Y/N jump into bed but not without checking on their son first. Seeing Tate’s sleeping face made the parents coo at the tired baby. Even though he was born about two months ago, he still slept in his bassinet that was placed on Y/N’s side of the bed.

Now being very comfortable, Harry digs his face in Y/N’s neck before kissing her cheek and whispering a small I love you.

-

Waking up to a crying baby was something the young parents still weren't used to. So feeling Y/N slide out of his warm embrace had Harry groaning. Peaking one eye open, he sees his wife softly grab Tate out of his bassinet.

Knowing her baby’s hungry whining, Y/N guides her son to her nipple. Still sore from pumping yesterday, she hisses at the slight pain. Harry automatically perks up at his wife’s discomfort.

“What’s wrong baby?” He questions making Y/N glance back to see her worried husband.

“I’m fine H. Just quite sore.” Y/N sighs, sitting back onto the bed. Harry’s instant contact made her tense shoulders drop comfortably. Leaning back into his hold made her discomfort drift away.

With her baby suckling on her breast, Y/N begins listening to Harry's soothing voice. Hearing her man talk about these baby clothes he saw in a store window last night made her heart swell. If you would’ve told her six years ago she would be having a son, she probably would’ve laughed in your face.

But now here in this moment made her feel special. She has two boys that love her the most and she couldn’t have wished for anything else. Tate and Harry were truly the loves of her life.

“Little man is hungry.” Harry lets out a breathy laugh making Y/N shake her head with a smile.

“And who did he get that from? Oh his daddy!” Y/N giggles, brushing her finger against her soft baby’s cheek. She couldn’t believe her and Harry created this tiny human.

“He gets everything from his daddy.” Harry chuckles, staring down at his little creation with Y/N. Tate meant everything to the parents—he changed their life for the better.

“Especially his little attitude.” Y/N sighs lovingly.

Once their baby is full, Y/N places Tate in Harry’s arms. Now patting his son's back waiting for the burps, he sees Y/N lean over the bed. Tilting his head Harry realizes she grabbed a new diaper and a bib-like towel to clean up Tate’s milk stained mouth.

Just as their baby let’s out a few burps, Y/N wipes his cheeks and mouth not wanting to wash anymore stained clothes—but she knew that wouldn’t happen since she lived with two boys. Her two boys.

-

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @academiaghosts @japanchrry @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @newyorker14 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @eunoiamaa @kaitieskidmore1 @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @iluvjj @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @teawithcyb0rgs

[storms-corner]

“Sweetheart, are you sure, hm?” Eve asked softly, rubbing Oksana’s belly over the blanket. “You’re more than welcome to sleep in the big bed with mommy.”

Oksana sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, crossing her arms around herself. She nods shyly. “Big girl,” she says. “Please?”

Eve chuckles. “Okay, my love,” she says. If Oksana tells Eve that there is something she wants to try, something she feels brave enough to do, who is Eve to tell her no? Letting her little one sleep alone in her room, which is literally wall-to-wall with Eve’s, is not dangerous by any means.

Besides, Eve already knows that in a few hours, her little girl will sneak right into Eve’s bed and demand cuddles. She only figures it’s good for Oksana’s confidence that she gets to try; she must know that Eve believes in her.

“Do you want a book before bedtime?”

Oksana nods eagerly. “How much I love you!”

“Ah, what a surprise,” Eve teases as she reaches for the book.

She grabs it carefully, and cringes at the crackle the dearly beloved book makes when she gently opens it. The Guess How Much I Love You book is so worn and cherished that the pages are soon to fall out. Eve has read it at least three times a week for two whole years now. Tonight, she reads it once more and watches the little one’s eyes begin to droop. How precious, thinks Eve, to be in your thirties and get to experience this soothing over and over. It’s different to watch Oksana fall asleep while sat at her bedside, compared to feeling it as she nurses down. Eve admires each and every twitch and flutter, and she smiles so warmly when Oksana’s tired, droopy eyes look up at her once the book is over.

“Mkay, sweetheart,” she murmurs as she puts the book away. “Paci?”

Oksana nods. Eve reaches for Oksana’s pacifier, white with a moon on the centre, clipped to the girl’s pyjamas. Oksana takes to suckling in an instant, the pacifier bobbing at a calm, sleepy rhythm. Eve coos and leans in to kiss Oksana’s forehead.

“Goodnight, baby, I love you,” she says softly.

***

When Eve opens her eyes a few hours later, it’s nearly two in the morning. Because her brain has seemingly built a radar for Oksana, she’d woken just before she heard the first creak in the floorboards. Soft, shuffling little footsteps come closer and closer before Oksana appears in the door, hand clutching Kis-Kis tightly.

“Mommy,” she whispers, padding into the room. “Mommy.”

Eve grunts sleepily, holding her arm out. “C’mere, ‘ksana.”

Oksana runs on her tiptoes and crawls clumsily into bed, wriggling under the blanket as Eve holds it up. She was so very wrong about being a big girl tonight. Sleeping in her own bed is silly — there’s no Eve there! She worms her way into Eve’s embrace, where the older woman greets her with a warm hug.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Eve whispers into her ear. “You okay, hm?”

Oksana nods. Her hand places itself against the soft swell of Eve’s breast almost by instinct; Eve has learned that this particular touch is comfort seeking. “Just wanted mommy.”

“Oh, you’re such a mommy’s girl, aren’t you?” she laughs warmly, sleep clinging to her voice. “You’re mommy’s ittiest, bittiest little girl.”

Oksana giggles bashfully. “Noo,” she protests.

“No?” Eve chuckles.

“Mommy’s baby,” Oksana insists in a determined voice.

Eve goes from laughing to cooing, holding Oksana close, suddenly overwhelmed with love. “Mm, that’s right,” she whispers, kissing her head sweetly. “Mommy’s baby. You’re mommy’s baby.”

Oksana yawns wide, and Eve remembers that it’s two in the morning. She rubs at her own eyes. “Let’s give sleeping another try, mkay?” she whispers.

[idigitizellp21]

Creating A Breastfeeding-friendly Environment: Tips For Home And Work

Breastfeeding is a natural and essential aspect of motherhood, offering numerous benefits for both the baby and the mother. However, the journey can be challenging, especially when finding a balance between home and work. Creating a breastfeeding-friendly space can contribute to a mother feeling comfortable and confident in her breastfeeding journey.

Here are some practical tips to create a breastfeeding-friendly environment at home and work.

At Home

1. Designate a Comfortable Space: Choose a quiet, comfortable area where you can breastfeed without distractions. A cozy chair with good back support, a nursing pillow, and a small table for essentials like water and snacks can make breastfeeding sessions more comfortable.

2. Organise Essential Supplies: Keep all necessary items within arm’s reach. These include burp cloths, nipple cream, breast pads, and a breastfeeding cover. Having everything organised and accessible can reduce stress and make breastfeeding more trouble-free.

3. Create a Relaxing Atmosphere: A calm and soothing environment can help the mother and baby relax during breastfeeding. Consider dimming the lights, playing soft music, or using aromatherapy to create a tranquil setting.

4. Educate Family Members: Educate family members about the importance of breastfeeding and how they can support you. These include understanding the need for frequent feeding, offering emotional support, and assisting with household chores to give you more time to focus on breastfeeding.

5. Establish a Feeding Routine: While babies often demand feeding, establishing a loose routine can help manage your time and energy. Track feeding times and durations to identify patterns, which can aid in planning your day and ensuring adequate rest.

At Work

1. Know Your Rights: Be knowledgeable about your legal rights regarding breastfeeding in the workplace. Many countries have laws that protect breastfeeding mothers, ensuring they have the right to break time and a private space to express milk.

2. Communicate with Your Employer: Inform your employer about your breastfeeding needs before returning to work. Discuss the possibility of flexible hours, breaks for pumping, and access to a private, clean space for expressing milk.

3. Create a Pumping Schedule: Plan a pumping schedule that aligns with your baby’s feeding times. Regular pumping helps maintain milk supply and prevents discomfort. Use a high-quality breast pump for efficiency and convenience.

4. Set Up a Lactation Space: Ensure you have access to a private, comfortable space for pumping. This space should have a chair, a table, an electrical outlet, and a refrigerator for storing milk. If your workplace doesn’t have a designated lactation room, work with your employer to find a suitable alternative.

5. Stay Organized: Keep your pumping supplies organised and ready to go. Invest in a good-quality breast pump bag to carry your pump, bottles, and cleaning supplies. Having everything in one place makes it easier to manage your pumping sessions.

6. Maintain Hydration and Nutrition: Staying hydrated and eating a balanced diet is crucial for maintaining milk supply. Keep a water bottle and healthy snacks at your desk to ensure you meet your nutritional needs throughout the day.

7. Seek Support from Coworkers: Don’t hesitate to seek support from colleagues who have experience with breastfeeding. They can offer valuable advice, encouragement, and practical tips on balancing work and breastfeeding.

Additional Quick Tips for Both Home and Work

1. Use Technology: Leverage technology to make breastfeeding more manageable. Apps can help track feeding times, pumping sessions, and milk storage. Additionally, wireless breast pumps allow for more flexibility and freedom.

2. Join a Support Group: Joining a breastfeeding support group can provide emotional support, practical advice, and a sense of community. Whether online or in-person, these groups can be a great resource for new mothers.

3. Prioritize Self-Care: Taking care of yourself is essential for successful breastfeeding. Ensure you get adequate rest, manage stress, and seek help when needed. Remember, a healthy and happy mother is likely to have a positive breastfeeding experience.

Empower Your Breastfeeding Journey: You Can Do It!

Creating a supportive environment for breastfeeding at home and work takes planning, communication, and support. By implementing these tips, you can ensure a smoother and more enjoyable breastfeeding journey for yourself and your baby. Connecting with the best gynecologist in Mumbai can also make your experience easier and more beneficial.

Every mother’s journey is unique, and discovering what works best for you is vital for a successful breastfeeding experience.

[citynewsglobe]

[ad_1] When any mother provides start to a brand new child, it's an thrilling and overwhelming expertise.  Nevertheless, it comes with many stresses and different medical situations that postpartum brings. Some mums even go into postpartum melancholy. However, as a mum, breastfeeding your baby with out the stress and ease is equally essential.  So, equipping your self with the breastfeeding necessities could make breastfeeding straightforward for you and your child. There are numerous breastfeeding necessities like disposable breast pads that present essential assist to breasts to take care of your milk provide. Equally, nipple cream for breastfeeding can be important.  So, we'll discover the important breastfeeding objects that each new mother ought to use for a wholesome feeding expertise. Breastfeeding is a pure and rewarding expertise, however it additionally comes with challenges that many new mothers encounter. When you perceive these difficulties and have the correct assist, it might probably make breastfeeding a neater expertise.  So, breastfeeding necessities like a really helpful nipple cream can deal with these challenges. Let’s talk about some breastfeeding challenges.  Latching Points: Correct latch-on is essential for efficient feeding and might stop discomfort. Getting assist from a lactation guide and utilizing important breastfeeding guides may be extremely useful. Sore Nipples: One of the vital widespread points new mothers face is sore nipples, which may make breastfeeding painful. Having a great nipple cream can present much-needed reduction and promote therapeutic. Engorgement: Breast engorgement could cause important discomfort and should even result in mastitis if not managed correctly. Breast pumps, heat compresses, and frequent feeding are among the many breastfeeding necessities that may sort out this difficulty. Low Milk Provide: Worrying about milk provide is one other widespread problem. Frequent nursing, staying hydrated, and utilizing important breastfeeding dietary supplements might help increase your milk manufacturing. Infections: Situations like mastitis could cause fever, ache, and flu-like signs. Utilizing a really helpful nipple cream can stop cracks and infections, whereas correct hygiene and immediate medical consideration are essential for administration. By addressing these challenges with the correct breastfeeding necessities, as a brand new mother, breastfeeding may be made comfy. Ought to Mums Use Breastfeeding Necessities? Completely. There are numerous the reason why you, as a mum, ought to use breastfeeding necessities. In any case, it's simply as equally essential for mums similar to it is crucial for infants to have cotton wipes, child bathing, and child nappies. Let’s talk about extra causes! Breastfeeding may be bodily demanding. Necessities like disposable breast pads can enormously improve consolation by decreasing pressure on the again, neck, and shoulders. This makes the expertise extra nice for mums to proceed breastfeeding for longer intervals. Utilizing breastfeeding necessities can streamline the feeding course of. For instance, breast pumps permit mums to specific milk rapidly, in order that the newborn has entry to breast milk even when direct breastfeeding is not potential. That is particularly useful for working mums or these with busy schedules. Snug and efficient breastfeeding helps in sustaining the newborn's correct vitamin and well being. Breastfeeding necessities that help with a great latch and cozy positioning can stop points like sore nipples and mastitis. Lansinoh Disposable Breast Pads are a useful addition to any nursing mom's breastfeeding necessities. These ultra-thin however tremendous absorbent pads provide a discreet match. The comfortable, stay-dry lining is designed to attract milk away from the pores and skin and into the core of the pad. Excellent on your hospital bag,

Lansinoh Disposable Breast Pads characteristic non-slip adhesive tape to maintain them securely in place. Every pad is individually wrapped for cleanliness and hygiene to make them handy for on-the-go use. These disposable breast pads are important for nursing moms who want dependable safety in opposition to leaks to concentrate on bonding with their child. 4.8 score Lansinoh Nipple Cream 40ml is a must have in your assortment of breastfeeding necessities. This nipple cream for breastfeeding supplies reduction from sore nipples and cracked pores and skin. Created from a 100% pure single ingredient, it's utterly secure and pure for each mum and child.  Its taste-free, colourless, and odourlessformulation means you will not must take away it. Extremely really helpful by healthcare professionals, Lansinoh Nipple Cream is an efficient nipple cream that needs to be a vital a part of your hospital bag. Not solely does it provide wonderful moisturising propertiesIn brief, this really helpful nipple cream is an efficient answer. 4.8 score The Lansinoh Breast Pads are key breastfeeding necessities that present reduction from widespread breastfeeding challenges. These reusable gel cooling pads provide each cold and hot remedy, making them excellent for treating engorgement, plugged ducts, and mastitis. When heated, they will additionally assist encourage milk let-down.  Including these breast pads to your hospital bag is a great transfer for any new mother. They will also be used with any breast pump to enhance let-down and scale back the time spent expressing milk. Remember to pair them with different necessities like disposable breast pads to make sure complete care on your breastfeeding wants. 4.5 score [ad_2] Supply hyperlink

[farhan7474]

Nursing Breast Pads Market Insights 2024, Trend Analysis, Business Trends, Development Factors and Forecast by 2034

The Nursing Breast Pads market report offered by Reports Intellect is meant to serve as a helpful means to evaluate the market together with an exhaustive scrutiny and crystal-clear statistics linked to this market. The report consists of the drivers and restraints of the Nursing Breast Pads Market accompanied by their impact on the demand over the forecast period. Additionally, the report includes the study of prospects available in the market on a global level. With tables and figures helping evaluate the Global Nursing Breast Pads market, this research offers key statistics on the state of the industry and is a beneficial source of guidance and direction for companies and entities interested in the market. This report comes along with an additional Excel data-sheet suite taking quantitative data from all numeric forecasts offered in the study.

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Key players offered in the market: Amed Koninklijke Philips Lansinoh Medela NUK Pigeon

Additionally, it takes account of the prominent players of the Nursing Breast Pads market with insights including market share, product specifications, key strategies, contact details, and company profiles. Similarly, the report involves the market computed CAGR of the market created on previous records regarding the market and existing market trends accompanied by future developments. It also divulges the future impact of enforcing regulations and policies on the expansion of the Nursing Breast Pads Market.

Scope and Segmentation of the Nursing Breast Pads Market

The estimates for all segments including type and application/end-user have been provided on a regional basis for the forecast period from 2024 to 2034. We have applied a mix of bottom-up and top-down methods for market estimation, analyzing the crucial regional markets, dynamics, and trends for numerous applications. Moreover, the fastest & slowest growing market segments are pointed out in the study to give out significant insights into each core element of the market.

Nursing Breast Pads Market Type Coverage: - Reusable Disposable Silicone Hydrogel

Nursing Breast Pads Market Application Coverage: - Hopsital Home

Regional Analysis:

North America Country (United States, Canada) South America Asia Country (China, Japan, India, Korea) Europe Country (Germany, UK, France, Italy) Other Countries (Middle East, Africa, GCC)

Also, Get an updated forecast from 2024 to 2034.

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The comprehensive report provides:

Complete assessment of all opportunities and threats in the global market.

Nursing Breast Pads Market recent advancements and major events.

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Plan for new product promotion and portfolio in advance

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[babycloudapp]

Traveling with a Breastfeeding Baby: Tips and Considerations

Traveling with a breastfeeding baby can present unique challenges, but with some preparation and considerations, it can be a smooth and enjoyable experience. Whether you're embarking on a road trip or flying to a different destination, here are some tips to help you navigate traveling with a breastfeeding baby:

Plan Ahead:

Research breastfeeding-friendly accommodations: Look for hotels or accommodations that offer amenities like refrigerators or kitchenettes to store and prepare breast milk. Check airport regulations: Familiarize yourself with the airport's policies on traveling with breast milk, including guidelines for carrying breast milk through security. Research local resources: If you're traveling to a specific destination, look up local breastfeeding support groups, lactation consultants, or baby-friendly facilities in case you need assistance during your trip. Pack Essential Supplies:

Breast pump and accessories: If you'll be away from your baby for an extended period or need to pump during your journey, make sure to pack your breast pump, spare parts, storage bags, and cleaning supplies. Cooler bag and ice packs: Use a well-insulated cooler bag with ice packs to store pumped breast milk during travel. Ensure it meets transportation guidelines to avoid any issues at security checkpoints. Nursing cover or scarf: Pack a nursing cover or scarf for privacy while breastfeeding in public, if desired. Extra nursing bras and breast pads: Bring extra nursing bras and breast pads to stay comfortable and manage any leakage that may occur during travel. Be Mindful of Feeding During the Journey:

Nurse or offer a bottle during takeoff and landing: The sucking motion can help alleviate ear pressure for your baby during changes in cabin pressure while flying. Breastfeed on-demand: During travel, it's essential to follow your baby's cues and breastfeed on-demand to ensure they are well-nourished and comfortable. Stay hydrated and nourished: Remember to drink plenty of water and eat nutritious snacks to maintain your energy levels while breastfeeding. Stay Comfortable While Nursing:

Choose comfortable clothing: Opt for loose-fitting, breastfeeding-friendly clothing that allows easy access for nursing while keeping you comfortable during your journey. Use nursing-friendly accessories: Nursing pillows, nursing covers, or breastfeeding scarves can provide added comfort and support while nursing in different environments. Know Your Rights:

Familiarize yourself with local laws and regulations: Be aware of your rights as a breastfeeding mother in the locations you will be visiting, including laws protecting your right to breastfeed in public spaces. Stay Flexible and Practice Self-Care:

Be prepared for unexpected delays or changes: Traveling with a baby can be unpredictable, so try to maintain a flexible mindset and be prepared for potential disruptions to your travel plans. Take care of yourself: Remember to prioritize self-care during your journey. Get rest when you can, eat well, and ask for support from your travel companions to ensure a positive experience for both you and your baby. Remember, each breastfeeding journey is unique, and it's essential to adapt these tips to suit your specific needs and circumstances. With adequate planning and flexibility, traveling with a breastfeeding baby can be a rewarding and memorable experience for you and your little one.

[factmrsposts]

Durable Medical Equipment Market Development, Top Trends and Future Scope with Upcoming Opportunities

The worldwide Durable Medical Equipment Market report presents a comprehensive set of insights based on the DURABLE MEDICAL EQUIPMENT MARKET industry which is inclusive of parental market analysis. It further deeply investigates the impact of external factors on the business such as competitors, new entrants, buyers, and suppliers with respect to the Durable Medical Equipment Market context. The base year referred to by this research is 2022 and all insights presented under this research are referring to the forecast window from 2022 to 2032. The regional outlook added in the later part of this research aims to assist businesses in terms of possible market places, and lucrative opportunities and guides them on devising business strategies required for targeting international arcades in the forecast duration.

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Product improvisation, strategic partnerships, collaborations, and joint ventures are a few common business tactics opted for by  industry players to maintain a competitive edge over others. The world-class Durable Medical Equipment Market research report is a professional and detailed market study focusing on primary and secondary drivers, market share, leading segments, and geographical analysis. This market report also includes a comprehensive evaluation of the market’s growth prospects and restrictions. Besides, the large-scale Durable Medical Equipment Market document gives insights into revenue growth and sustainability initiative.

Key Players

Invacare Corporation

Sunrise Medical

Arjohuntleigh

Hill-Rom

Stryker

Medline Industries, Inc.

Medical Device Depot, Inc.

GF Health Products Inc.

Carex Health Brands

Baxter International, Inc.

Becton, Dickinson, and Company

Joerns Healthcare LLC

Key Segments in Durable Medical Equipment Industry Research

By Product :

Monitoring & Therapeutic Devices

Personal Mobility Devices

Bathroom Safety Devices

Medical Furniture

Incontinent Pads

Breast Pumps

Catheters

Consumables & Accessories

Others

By End User :

Hospitals

Nursing Homes

Home Healthcare

Ambulatory Surgical Centers

Others

By Region :

North America

Latin America

Europe

East Asia

South Asia & Oceania

MEA              

 Key Highlights

Sales of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market in 2020

Competitive Analysis of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market

Demand Analysis of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market

Key Trends of Supply Side Analysis of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market

Outlook of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market

Insights of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market

Analysis of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market

Survey of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market

Size of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market

A short viewpoint offered in the report elucidates the macro-economic aspects that influence the growth drivers of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market which includes global GDP of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market growth rate, various industries growth rate, such as cosmetics, pharmaceuticals, food and others.

This newly published and insightful report compounds sheds light on key dynamics, Key Trends of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market and their impact on the overall value chain from Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market to end-users, which are expected to transform the future of the Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market sales.

More Valuable Insights on Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market

Fact.MR, in its new report, offers an unbiased Market Analysis of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market, Sales and Demand of Outdoor Durable Medical Equipment Market, analyzing forecast statistics through 2019 and beyond. The study reveals growth projections on the basis of various criteria.

Why choose Fact.MR?  

We carry immense pride in saying that our work is recognized by 150+ countries worldwide. Our experience is conveyed by the fact that we have published 6, 000+ reports, thanks to our dedicated team of professionals. With digital intelligence solutions, we support our clients in remaining at the driver’s seat. Our crew of 300+ analysts are available 24/7 to offer dynamic updates regarding various verticals and companies.

[esglatestmarketnews]

Breastfeeding Accessories Market Competitors Growth Prospects And Industry Growth Rate 2022-2030

The global breastfeeding accessories market size is expected to reach USD 3.90 billion by 2030, according to a new report by Grand View Research, Inc. It is expected to expand at a CAGR of 6.45% from 2022 to 2030. An increasing women’s employment rate is expected to surge the demand for breastfeeding accessories, thereby propelling the market growth. For instance, according to the data from the World Bank and the International Labor Organization, 55% of women in the U.S. are employed, whereas this number increases in the U.K. with 59% women employability. Working women are more likely to purchase breastfeeding accessories, thus, with a surge in the women’s employment rate, the market is expected to grow over the forecast period.

Moreover, there has been a rise in the global birth rate. For instance, as per the latest report by the International Institute of Sustainable Development (IISD), the global fertility rate has touched 2.3 births per woman, which is well above the replacement rate. Similarly, there has been an increase in the number of milk banks across the globe. For instance, as per the European Milk Bank Association, there are 280 active milk banks in Europe. Likewise, according to the International Breastfeeding Journal, there were 80 milk banks in India as of 2020. Thus, with the establishment of milk banks globally, the market is anticipated to witness growth during the forecast period.

Furthermore, with the introduction of the COVID-19 vaccine and the lifting of lockdown impositions, the market may witness considerable growth over the forecast period. This can be attributed to the opening of offices globally and the initiation of work from office or hybrid work settings. For instance, Microsoft has given their employees 30 days to shift towards a new pattern of hybrid working setting, which has started from February 2022. Furthermore, many market players are initiating strategies such as product launches, partnerships, collaboration, and awareness campaigns to expand their reach. For instance, various market players such as Medela LLC and Laura & Co. are increasing awareness among the target population by arranging programs and distributing magazines. Thus, the aforementioned factors may help the market grow over the forecast period.

Breastfeeding Accessories Market Report Highlights

• Based on product, the breastmilk storage and feeding segment dominated the market with a share of over 15.0% in 2021 owing to an increase in the women’s employment rate

• The postpartum recovery accessories product segment is expected to register the fastest growth rate over the forecast period. An increase in the number of births is anticipated to have a significant impact on the use of postpartum recovery accessories

• Asia Pacific held the largest revenue share of over 40.0% in 2021 owing to the presence of a large target population and an increase in the birth rate

Breast Pump and Breastfeeding Accessories Market Size was valued at USD 4.06 Billion in 2021 and is projected to expand at a CAGR of 7.8% during 2022 to 2030.

Breastfeeding Accessories Market Segmentation

Grand View Research has segmented the global breastfeeding accessories market on the basis of product and region:

Breastfeeding Accessories Product Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2018 – 2030)

• Nipple Care Products

• Breast Shells

• Breast Pads

• Breastmilk Preparation and Cleaning Products

• Breastmilk Storage and Feeding

• Perineal Cooling Pads

• Breast Heating Pads

• Breast Cooling Pads

• Baby Weighing Scales

• Maternity/Nursing Bras

• Nursing Tank Tops

• Lactation Massager

• Breast Pump Carry/Tote Bags

• Postpartum Recovery Accessories

Breastfeeding Accessories Regional Outlook (Revenue, USD Million, 2018 – 2030)

• North America

U.S.

Canada

• Europe

U.K.

Germany

France

Italy

Spain

• Asia Pacific

China

Japan

India

South Korea

Australia

• Latin America

Brazil

Mexico

Colombia

Argentina

• Middle East & Africa

South Africa

Saudi Arabia

UAE

List of Key Players in Breastfeeding Accessories Market

• Medela AG

• Ameda, Inc.

• Willow Innovations, Inc.

• Koninklijke Philips N.V.

• Chiaro Technology Limited

• Pigeon Corporation

• Spectra Baby

• Lavie Mom

• Motif Medical

• Mayborn Group Limited

Request free sample copy of Breast Pump and Breastfeeding Accessories Industry Data Book @ https://www.grandviewresearch.com/sector-report/breast-pump-breastfeeding-accessories-industry-data-book/request/rs1 

About Grand View Research 

Grand View Research, Inc. is a U.S. based market research and consulting company, registered in the State of California and headquartered in San Francisco. The company provides syndicated research reports, customized research reports, and consulting services. To help clients make informed business decisions, we offer market intelligence studies ensuring relevant and fact-based research across a range of industries, from technology to chemicals, materials and healthcare.

For More Information: https://astra.grandviewresearch.com/

[besotted-eros]

BabyDaddy!Eren on Father's Day

NSFW under cut(MDNI)//breeding, dirty talk, dom!eren, mommy/daddy usage, alcohol, breastfeeding, unprotected sex, pregnancy.

Eren, who has made your life so much harder than it needs to be. A hook up gone wrong, a letter to the condom company, and an adorable little bundle of joy that you're head over heels in love with... Even with the fact he has the same eyes as his annoying father.

Eren, who knows that he gave you the night of your life. Whose smirk is lethal every time you see him, who undresses you with his eyes the moment his gaze lands on you. His words are warm as you meet with him for drop offs or picks up. He focuses on the baby for the most part, cooing lovingly as he shoulders the bag. But as you make your way back to your car, you can feel how he stares, it touches your curves like a physical thing. It makes you think of how his hands felt.

Eren, who is an absolutely amazing father. Adores his son, goes above and beyond to make his disorganized bachelor pad of an apartment into something appropriate for a child. Who had came over to help you paint your nursery as well, spent the whole time poking at you. Stepping too close, purring compliments in ways that make your thighs clench. Reached over to tug at the strong of your thong when your sweats ride too, saying he liked this pair better than what he's seen you in. You rebuke him, rolling your eyes. He never stops flirting.

Eren's eyes opening wide, filling with tears that he'll forever deny when his son toddles up to his door on Father's Day. The baby's wearing a tiny little varsity jacket, just like the one Eren had in university. He's holding a mug, with a tiny blue handprint stamped on the front. Eren sweeps him up, kissing his face as he praises his little man. You grin from your spot by the car, leaning against it as you watch him carefully extract the mug and vow to never use another cup. His jade gaze moves to yours. He's grateful, deeply grateful. "Happy Father's Day." You call out. It's only his second, and you wonder if he'll cry every time.

Eren, stepping from his door. This is the first time you've seen insecurity on his expression, sheepishness making him seem younger. "Do you want to come in?" You say something about it being his day, but he shrugs, smoothing his son's hair back. "You're the one who made me a father."

Eren, making you breakfast despite your complaints as your baby demolishes cantelope as though it owes him money. The vulnerability in his face is covered again by his cocky grin, asking you if you remember the last time he made you breakfast.

Eren driving like an actual human being. Calm, cool. First to the park, where he takes picture after picture of sun covered smiles, reapplies sunscreen on the dot. You notice the way other moms check him out, admiring his muscular arms, how his chestnut hair falls across his face when he leans down to pick up his son, or pushes him on the swing.

Eren, who only has eyes for you.

Eren tucking your son into bed, exhausted after a long day of playing and a big dinner. He pours you a glass of wine as you sit on his sofa, nursing his own. You haven't sat like this in a long time. Haven't spoken like this to him in even longer. He's wearing a simple black t shirt, the neck of it wide to show off his pretty collar bones, the sleeves hugging his biceps. It's no wonder you let him pick you up at that bar.

The conversation turning to kids, Eren asking you if you would consider another. The question feels loaded, and his green gaze never leaves your face. You're sitting closer together than you remember.

Eren smells like sandalwood. He's on top of you now, pinning your body to the sofa. All you had said was that you would want another. You liked being pregnant weirdly, and you love being a mommy. His eyes had slowly widened, and by the time you said mommy your fate was sealed.

Eren's demanding hands peeling off your jeans while his mouth claims yours. "Can't fucking do this anymore, teased me for too long. And now this? You like being a mommy?" His tone is almost incredulous, but it's thick with lust. He palms you through your satin panties, fingers pinching and rubbing your lips. He's stroking a fire in you. And you've been dry kindling, waiting to burn for so long.

Eren yanking your shirt neck down hard enough to rip it. The bra is pulled down as well, your hardened nippled released to the air. Your areola is large, and his eyes trace it almost lovingly. And now covered by his mouth. "They're so big now, fucking watched them grow. Wanted to do this the moment I knew." He grows against your skin as he suckles. He's drinking from you, drawing the sweet milk from your breast. You're pulling and tugging at his hair, gasping for relief as he invades your every sense.

Eren's cock. It's almost bigger than you remembered. It fits his figure so well, long and veiny, but girthy enough to make your toes twitch in anticipation. It bursts from his black jeans as he yanks them down, heavy balls swinging. You're on your knees before you even realise, tongue lapping at the firm shaft, at the soft skin of his sack. He encourages you, fist twisting your hair. Tells you to kiss his balls nice and sweet because he's gonna breed you with them.

Eren on the ground behind you, pushing your face into the soft cushions of the couch. Coffee table has been haphazardly pushed away to give him more space as he ceaselessly pounds you. His broad, muscular chest is pressed to your back, his mouth hot on your shoulder and neck. Biting, nipping, degrading and lifting all in one. His hands grip your hips like they were made to be his hand holds. He keeps pulling you back, making your ass bounce. Telling you you have the perfect child bearing hips, that's why he first eyed you. And then when you got pregnant he fisted his cock every night, the sight of you filling his naughty dreams. But this time he's gonna do it right. This time he's gonna fuck you through it.

Eren, asking you how badly you want to be a mommy again. Pulling you onto the ground fully, throwing you onto your back so he can move your legs to your chest, fold your body into a mating press. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes heavy lidded, body jerking with each time you slide along his cock. Your pussy walls are plush, wet, clinging to him. You're begging for it. Your body knows. So you call him daddy, pleading for him. Begging for daddy to breed your needy pussy once more.

Eren's cum, filling you up in a way that's utterly sinful. Hot and sticky, coating your inside and dripping out onto the hardwood. He lays against you for a moment, chest heaving with exertion.

"Maybe next year I'll get two mugs."

[jamespotterthefirst]

Five Birthdays (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.4K Warning: Implied adult situations  Premise: Ethan’s birthdays with her in the next five years. 

Author’s Note: A birthday fic that I wrote a while ago and wanted to post on my birthday. Dedicated to @perriewinklenerdie , @scorpiochick8 , and all the beautiful Scorpios out there. November babies, this is for you too! Thank you @aestheticartsx​ for reading through this mess! Hope you like it. 

Year One 

A soft knock pulled Ethan away from his latest patient chart. Interruptions were always a source of irritation but tonight he almost welcomed it. His body ached with exhaustion and his eyelids were heavy after the sixteen hour day. 

The door opened to reveal Dr. Allende, looking uncharacteristically bashful as she entered, hands behind her back. 

“What can I do for you?” he asked, his attention falling quickly to the chart. This he only did as an excuse to glance away because she was biting her bottom lip the way she did when nervous. It was a quirk that always drove him to distraction. 

She said nothing as she approached, and Ethan could see in his peripheral that she did so cautiously. After a small pause, she set a tall to-go cup of coffee on the desk in front of him, successfully getting his attention. 

“I brought you coffee,” she said by way of explanation. She opened her mouth to say more, but closed it immediately, looking uncharacteristically flustered and even a little anxious. She tried again, “The Vienna. From the coffee house you took me to a few weeks ago.”

Ethan removed his spectacles, staring at the cup. “I can see that. Though I commend you on the choice, I am still uncertain why you went through the trouble.”

The pretty intern flushed, looking prettier still, much to Ethan's frustration. 

“I didn't know what else you liked. And I wanted to get you something.” 

Ethan's confusion lasted only a second before realization sunk in. His stomach dropped and he all but groaned. For some reason, this seemed to ease some of her tension. She even looked a tad bit amused. 

“Who told you?” 

“Dr. Banerji,” she responded, not surprising Ethan in the least. “He let it slip while I was drawing blood for that full work up you ordered.”

Ethan huffed, sincerely doubting the old man had let the detail slip accidentally. 

“Happy birthday,” she added and this time, the amusement was undeniable in her voice. 

“You can't tell anyone,” he implored, feeling his face grow hotter by the second. He shuddered to think of the fuss people in the hospital would make if they knew, particularly the nursing staff. “I've worked too hard these past years to keep that a secret. Trust me, it's not an easy feat when Marlene is in charge of the birthday board.”

Lilac laughed, the sound so pleasant he almost forgot to be mortified. “Imagine the parties they'd throw in your honor, Dr. Ramsey. I don't think I can rob everyone of such a good time.” 

“Lilac.”

More laughter. “I won't tell a soul,” she said solemnly. Ethan was still unconvinced and she rolled her eyes. “Just drink your coffee, Ron Swanson.”

___________________________________

Year Two 

Lilac glanced around with interest, pressing her clipboard tightly against her chest. Ethan almost snorted at her feigned attempt to seem invested. There was nothing particularly interesting about the supply closet they both occupied. 

“Interesting choice, Doctor,” she commented anyway, sounding thoroughly amused. 

“I didn't think you'd mind meeting here,” he returned, feeling emboldened enough to flirt with the pretty young resident before him. He had already pulled her into a supply closet with the enthusiasm of an intern. Ethan might as well enjoy the full thrill of breaking the rules. “If you have moral qualms, however, just say the word and we can both go back to work.”

Lilac proved she had no complaints by closing the already small space between them and kissing him fully. The clipboard clattered to the floor as her hands slid up his shoulders and clung around his neck. Ethan responded in kind, his hands settling on the dip of her waist, his lips eagerly moving against hers. 

She hissed a little as their kiss went from passionate to desperate, hands, lips, and teeth tugging at one another. These days, it only took a matter of seconds to reach that level, both growing needier by the day.

“I didn't take you for the type to make out in a supply closet,” she said breathlessly when they finally pulled apart. 

“Honestly? The idea seemed juvenile until I started making out with you.” He gave her a half smile that made her eyes linger on his lips. “I've been thinking of nothing else ever since we broke into Mass Kenmore.”

Ever since that event, he'd had several detailed fantasies that included Lilac in a supply closet with him, but he decided not to disclose them as the majority were irrefutably not safe for work. Then again, the way she pressed her body flush against his, her rosy lips trailing kisses along his jaw, was anything but appropriate for the workplace. 

“Whatever the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.” 

Ethan involuntarily shuddered at the word birthday, which in turn made her pull away in laughter. 

“No one is going to hear us here. You picked the supply closet in a construction zone that no one is allowed to be in.”

She was taunting him but Ethan didn't mind. If anything, he concluded that two could play at the game. With a devilish, lopsided smile that caught her attention again he said in a dangerous, low whisper, “I just thought you'd want to scream my name without the whole hospital hearing you.”

The surprised look that turned lustful in seconds sent a thrill of satisfaction through Ethan. He claimed her lips again without restraint, successfully opening the buttons of her blouse before him. There was no time to admire the black lace that left little to the imagination, when his pager demanded his attention. 

He groaned but fixed his clothes and hair at once. When he was presentable once again, Ethan paused to give her one last, longing look. A familiar, mournful feeling settled in his stomach as another clandestine encounter came to an end. 

Her responding smile was understanding, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. At this point, he was certain that she did. 

“Happy birthday,” she murmured, lifting herself to press a sweet, tender kiss to his cheek. 

Not for the first time, he wished for nothing more than to be able to kiss her whenever, however he wanted, no matter who saw. 

___________________________________

Year Three

Ethan pressed her against the wall, escalating their usual goodbye kiss after a long day at the hospital. Though a little surprised at first, Lilac quickly recovered and kissed him back just as eagerly. When they broke the kiss for breath, she raised an eyebrow in curiosity. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

Ethan shrugged, the pad of his thumb trailing the faint freckles on her cheeks. The truth was now that he could finally kiss her without needing a reason to and without caring who was around, he couldn't seem to stop. 

In this particular instance, it was Naveen who entered the office, clearing his throat meaningfully. They didn't spring apart from one another as they used to, pretending (rather poorly) that they were only colleagues. Instead, they remained in each other's arms as they looked at the Chief. The older man did not seem to mind one bit for he watched them with a warm, proud smile. 

“Ready for our meeting with the Board, Ethan?” 

“No.” 

Naveen chuckled good-naturedly. “It'll be a short one. I'll make sure of it lest Dr. Allende hates me for making her finance work late on his birthday.”

It did not go unnoticed by everyone that Ethan didn't exactly have a visceral reaction to the word, unlike the past years. Naveen shot him a fatherly smile and Lilac pressed a loving, chaste kiss on his cheek. 

“I'll wait for you at home.” She waited until the Chief was out of the room to whisper in Ethan's ear, “I have a surprise for you.”

The heady promise stole his attention for the rest of the evening, which was a good thing because the meeting was as useless as he had expected. An hour and a half later, he discovered he was right in rushing home to Lilac. 

She was waiting for him in the living, perched on the backrest of the love seat and clad in the shortest silk robe he had ever seen. Her shapely legs were exposed for his viewing pleasure, save for the sheer, black stockings ending with lace at her thighs. The echo of her previous promise adorned everything from her coy smile to the scandalous patch of lace peeking from the neckline of her robe. 

“Took you long enough,” she teased in a breathy sort of voice that had an instant effect on him. 

She hopped off the sofa, walking toward the dining room, hips swaying with each step. On any regular day, the sight would have been enough inspiration to tease her until she begged him to take her on any given surface of their apartment. In her current attire, he wished to pin her against the wall with primal urgency in ten seconds or less. 

“I ordered us food from—” 

 In one quick stride, he spun her around, his mouth devouring hers in a scorching kiss. Lilac matched his passion, her silk-clad body melting deliciously against his, her arms locking around his neck. 

“Happy birthday,” she moaned as he ran his tongue down her neck and into the exposed valley of her breasts. 

Ethan had never been happier. 

Not only because he was currently peeling the flimsy robe off with his teeth, revealing a lacy black number underneath, but also because of the three words that left her lips, as natural and wondrous as the beautiful sunset through the window.

“I love you.”

He could never tire of hearing them. 

___________________________________

Year Four

Ethan awoke to soft, lazy kisses and a curtain of dark hair enveloping them both. When she straightened with a tired smile, he missed the floral scent of her shampoo at once. He groaned in protest and pulled her body against his for another quick kiss, cutting the small shriek of surprise short. 

“Good morning,” he greeted between slow, delicious sips of her mouth. 

“Good morning indeed,” she sighed in return. At last, when they fully pulled apart, she picked up a tray from the nightstand and set it on his lap. “Happy birthday! I made you pancakes. ” 

He took in the pretty array before him, complete with coffee and a small vase of red carnations. Ethan flashed her a grateful grin, not missing the dark circles under her eyes or the exhausted sigh that escaped her as her head sank into the pillows. 

“Is that what was burning earlier?” 

Lilac laughed dryly, eyes shut. “Laugh all you want, Ramsey, but at least I can actually make them.” 

“Touché.”

He savored her offerings in silence, admiring how her cooking had improved dramatically in her years with him. Lilac continued to rest against the pillows, looking so blissful, he couldn't help but smile. Within minutes, her muscles relaxed and her breathing became more even as she drifted into sleep. 

The crackle of the speaker on their bedside startled her awake. If that hadn't done it, then the wailing that soon followed would have done it. “He's awake,” she mumbled, already moving to sit up. 

Ethan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, easing her back into the pillows. “I'll go.”

His son's crying subsided as soon as Ethan scooped him up and swayed him gently. He grinned down at his three-month-old, unable to contain the warm pride expanding in his chest.

“Good morning. You're up early after keeping us up for most of the night,” he murmured, kissing his tiny forehead. Ethan would give up all his hours of sleep if it meant holding his perfect son in his arms. 

By the time they returned to the bedroom, Lilac was sound asleep, face buried unceremoniously  in the pillows. Ethan smiled fondly at his wife, making a mental note to lovingly tease her about the snoring later. Quietly, he settled in bed next to her, carefully setting Jonah facedown on his chest. 

Lilac mumbled something incomprehensible, sleepily burrowing into his arm. Jonah, meanwhile, drifted off into an easy sleep against his father's chest. Ethan smiled broadly, the gesture coming much more naturally than in past years, as he enjoyed a quiet morning with his perfect little family. 

___________________________________

Year Five

“Happy birthday!” his wife exclaimed. Ethan wasn't sure what his toddler son had shrieked out. All he knew was that he matched his mother's enthusiasm as they presented the small, thickly frosted cake on the counter. 

Ethan raised his brows at the creation before him. “You two made this just for me?”

Lilac beamed. “Yep, just Jonah and I.”

The slight pitch in her voice made Ethan chuckle. “I find that hard to believe. One of you barely has the fine motor skills needed to operate in a kitchen.”

“Cachen!” Jonah exclaimed, claiming his father's attention. Ethan bent down and kissed the top of his head. 

“And the other is a one year old toddler,” Ethan finished, earning him an adorable glare from his wife. 

“You think you're so funny, Ramsey.”

“I know I am, Allende.”

“That’s Allende-Ramsey to you.” Without warning, she scooped up a dollop of frosting and smeared it on Ethan's mouth. 

Unfazed, Ethan licked off the excess before pulling her into a kiss. Lilac laughed against his sugar coated lips while Jonah shrieked with happiness, forcing them to pull apart. 

“Either way, thank you for making this for me,” he said, gesturing toward the now marred cake. 

“Antsina!” 

Ethan glanced at his son curiously. “What is he saying?”

Lilac, meanwhile, shook her head comically at their son. 

“Ant sina!” the baby repeated, his short arms outstretched towards the cake. 

“Aunt Sienna?” Ethan guessed with a small laugh, looking at his wife. “Sienna helped you with this, didn’t she?” 

Lilac seemed abashed, looking as though she had half a mind to deny it. Her shoulders dropped in defeat, however, and with a small laugh she said, “I didn’t think my baby would give me away, but yes.” At her husband’s smug smile, she added, “But Jonah and I helped! Jonah tasted the frosting and I helped with the batter.”

Her smile turned sheepish as she thought of something and added, “Actually, your daughter may have helped with that too. This makes for the perfect bowl stand.” Her hands lovingly caressed her very pregnant belly. 

Ethan leaned in to kiss it and Jonah, always mimicking his father, leaned in to do the same. Both parents laughed, kissing their son in turn. 

“Make a wish,” Lilac instructed as she lit the candles. 

A knot formed in his throat as Ethan considered there was no need for that. In the past five years, he had been fortunate enough to find everything he could ever want.

___________________________________

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! I love you all <3

Also, I have hit a major writer’s block when concerning Part 2 of the Miami chapter in the Picta series. Slowly but surely, I am getting there. Thank you for being so patient! 

Finally, if you asked me to add you to the tag list and I haven’t, please message me. I am so disorganized and forgetful. I’m so sorry!

___________________________________

tags: @openheart12 , @takeharryandgo​ , @trappedinfanfiction​, @aestheticartsx​, @aworldoffandoms​, @paulfwesley​, @myusualnerdyself​,  @rookie-ramsey​, @ohchoices​, @colossalpainintheass​, @enmchoices​, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​, @choicesfanaf​, @openheartthot​, @octobereighth​, @nazarihoe​, @utterlyinevitable​, @kites-in-our-skies​, @maurine07​, @schnitzelbutterfingers​, @doilooklikeiknow​, @snesdudes​, @kingliam2019​, @perriewinklenerdie​, @cinnamonspongecake​, @choicesstan1​, @queencarb​, @ethxnrxmsey​, @missmiimiie​, @jens-diamondchoices​, @adamsdumortain​, @apphia12​, @kalogh​, @lucy-268​, @binny1985​, @queenbirbs​, @honeyandsunfl0wers​, @newcolonies​, @lilyvalentine​, @rigatonireid​, @interobanginyourmom​, @parkerattano​, @custaroonie​, @nikki-2406​, @lilypills​, @chasingrobbie​, @nooruleman​,  @lonely-mxxnlight​, @ruinedbypixels​, @shadynaturehilariouscookie​, @tsrookie​, @mvalentine​, @professorkingslay​, @drakewalkerfantasy​, @casey-v​, @helloblueeyedcat​, @mysticaurathings​, @blossomanarchy​, @thegreentwin​, @togetherwearerapture​, @rookieoh​, @ramseysno1rookie, @rookiemarsswiftie​, @natashajaniphil​, @mysticalgalaxysstuff​, @hatescapsicum​, @choices-lurker​, @kiara-36​, @junehiratas​, @danijimenezv​, @macy-ray85​, @adrex04​, @canigetanawwjunk​, @sanchita012​, @overwhelminglyaquarius​ , @scorpiochick8​, @skylarklyon​, @starrystarrytrouble​, @mercury84choices​, @drariellevalentine​, @ethanrcmsey​, @lion-ess24, @aarisa-frost​, @kaavyaethanramsey​ , @udishaman​, @a-crepusculo​, @quacksonlover​,

[maldreathezora]

Breast Cancer: A Tale of Two Titties

By Faith April LaFazia

The story starts when I was nine years old.

I got my first period. 

My mother was sad for me. I was so young, the pad felt like a tail in my pants. I was sure everyone could see it poking out. I changed from my usual sweatpants to jeans that year, which were more concealing.

For the first part of fifth grade, I went to a charter school where the closest bathroom to my classroom was the nurse’s office. I kept having to ask my male teacher to go to the nurse. He sometimes questioned why, and I couldn’t find the courage to tell him I was on my period. Once, the nurse’s office was out of pads and I had to wear a full pad for several hours. I cried all the way home that day, feeling disgusting. I wouldn’t learn to wear tampons for a few years.

Soon I was twelve, and as my breasts grew I hid them under my shirt with a sports bra, an undershirt, a large t-shirt, and finally a vest. Even in the summer. 

Despite my best efforts to ignore them, my breasts kept growing. 

Soon I was as big as my eldest sister. The attention this drew from men on the street was ridiculous. I would get honked at, yelled at (“Bitch! Whore!”). People mistook me at thirteen for an eighteen-year old. I was devastated and depressed and I began to stay inside and play video games all day.

When I outgrew my sports bras, my mother took me to buy some bigger ones. When we were in the dressing room, I took off my layers and my size D cups fell out. My mother said, “Faith!” in such a tone I was ashamed. I had hid my breasts well, even to my mother.

So continued my obsession with video games. I played Wind Waker for the first time and fell in love with Ganondorf. He didn’t hunch like most villains; he stood up stick-straight. I started to stand up straight, too, though it hurt. This probably saved my back from hurting worse later on.

Be careful what you wish for.

My breasts went from a D cup to an E cup, from there to an F. They swallowed my hands if I put them beneath my breasts. I grew to an H cup, and finding comfortable bras (or even uncomfortable ones) in that size was, as many are surprised to learn, difficult. The price was high, too, the average bra costing from $70 to $100. Being big cost money.

From the time I was a teenager to my young adult life I picked the pimples on my breasts obsessively, I hated my breasts so much; in my mind it was like getting revenge on them. Soon they were pockmarked with scars. I would put them in a bowl of ice water to try to shrink them. I started to hope I’d get breast cancer so I could take them off. 

At fourteen I found a marble-sized lump in my left breast. I was terrified of cancer and checked my breasts during every shower from then on. Luckily this lump went away after a few days. 

I had a boyfriend off and on for a few years, and he was mainly in love with my breasts. Luckily we didn’t stay together long. 

When I was 23 I visited a plastic surgeon to talk about breast reduction. But as soon as I saw the word “Necrosis” on the list of side effects, I knew it wasn’t for me. A turning point came after that; I spent $80 on a well-built sports bra, and began to jog, giving the finger to anyone who catcalled me, or honked at me. 

I had a few boyfriends after that, but nothing stuck until Alex, who loved me for me. 

After my 25th birthday, I found another lump in my left breast. It was the size and shape of a peach pit, hot to the touch, and painful. I went to a surgeon, Dr. Miller, and asked him to tell me if it was cancer. He took a sonogram of the lump and decided since I was so young, and the lump was hot and painful, that it was a cyst or an infection. He put me on antibiotics, which did nothing. He then went on vacation for three weeks, during which time the “cyst” grew to the size of a mango seed, and caused me much pain. The skin above it was pockmarked. Finally when he was back I asked him for a biopsy. He balked, but I demanded it. 

He gave me the biospy. The thick needle he stuck into my breast found a lump so hard and compact it could hardly suck up the sample. I knew then it had to be cancer, since a watery cyst would pop.

I remember driving out to a graphic design office to apply for a job, but they didn’t seem interested in my interview. Which was just as well, when the biopsy results got back. 

When I found out, I was alone. I saw the results of the biopsy online in my patient portal. “Carcinoma of the breast.” My mind went blank; I finished what I was working on as if on autopilot. I texted my husband at work to tell him. I’m sure he didn’t get any work done for the rest of the day. When he got home he held my hand and said we would get through it. (And we did. And we are.)

When I told my mother, she cried and held me. She wished it was her instead of me. 

Dr. Miller wanted to cut off my left breast right away. I could feel the cancer spreading in my left armpit, but I didn’t question him. But when Dr. Siddique, my oncologist, heard what Dr. Miller wanted to do, he stepped in and said no. First we need to shrink the tumor, he said. 

I felt anger. I was so angry at Dr. Miller for letting my “cyst” get so big. I cried and punched a pillow, imagining it was his face. Unfortunately I had to go under his knife to have a mediport put in. I begrudgingly allowed him. 

So I was put on four strange-named chemotherapies which took eight hours the first day to administer. They had to wait an hour after each to make sure I wasn’t allergic to it. There was a brilliant lightning storm that day and I had a view over the pond from the cancer center. 

After that the infusions took four hours each, once every three weeks, for five months. They made me sick, but I wallowed through.

At last I was free from chemotherapy. 

I decided I wanted to have both breasts removed and chose Dr. Dickson Witmer, a wonderful surgeon who had done mastectomies on women all over the Eastern Shore. I showed her a drawing of what I wanted to look like, and she said, “That’s almost exactly how you’ll look.” She seemed impressed. So I was satisfied. 

I was not worried all the way up to the surgery. It took four hours to wait because she was saving the life of someone who’d been shot outside the hospital. When she put her head in to check on me, she looked happy and confident. I knew I could put myself into her hands. 

“Deep breaths, sweetie,” she said as the anesthesia mask came down on my face. 

I awoke after the surgery, still in the surgical room. I lifted my head and looked down at my now-flat chest, strung with wires and tubes. I must’ve smiled as I thought, “That looks just right,” before lying my head down and sleeping with great satisfaction. 

After a rest in the hospital, I was about to go home when I began to cry. I was crying because the two-hour ride home would be painful, and I knew it. A well-meaning nurse knelt to put a hand on my knee, crying herself, and reassured me, “Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re still a woman.”

My tears changed to laughter. 

And that’s the story of how I gained and lost my breasts and found my happiness. 

[whump-town]

Quantico  Hope

Based on the text post created by @criminalmindsgonewrong so lots of praise goes to her (if not for the idea than because she’s a queen and I love her content). All of my medical scenes came from E.R, Grey’s Anatomy, or Chicago Hope so don’t come for me. Hotchniss is the main ship, warning for language

Emily Prentiss wakes up in a stranger’s bed. The comforter is thick, soft but the pattern is something only a bachelor would choose. It’s a flannel pattern, blue flannel. Knowing that no woman would willingly buy it is a small comfort. She’d never done it on purpose but she can still think of more than one occasion in which a one night stand came to a crashing halt as a spouse made their existence known. She had been chased from quite a few apartments half-dressed.

Topless, she wraps the sheets around her breast as she sits up. Her John is laying on his side and she has to lean close to see his face. She peaks over his shoulder but her quick movement catches nothing but thick brown hair and a five o’clock shadow. It does nothing to spur her memory so she places a hand on his hip to stabilize herself as she leans over him. 

“Fuck,” she grunts, pushing herself back away from him. 

On her back, hand slapped on her forehead she breathes out a shaky sigh. “No, no, no,” she rolls off the bed. Blindly scooping up her things on the floor. Waking up in a stranger’s bed can be disorienting but waking up in a bed that is unfamiliar with your best friend sleeping right beside you- so, so much worse. This is all Jennifer Jareau’s fault. Her and her stupid sentiments about how one more drink can’t possibly hurt. 

She hears a groggy groan from the bed and she winces as she draws her arms to her chest. It’s instinct to squint her eyes, her subconscious encouraging the childish idea that if she can’t see him he can’t see her. As still as she can, frozen in her spot she waits for him to move.  

She is beyond relief when he sighs and settles back down. 

This time, she tiptoes, now far more conscious of the noise she’s making. Her eyes sweep the floor, searching for her lost bra. She’s missing a sock too but she can leave a sock here and not think twice about it but a bra? 

Last night is mostly a blur. She has a faint memory of his hand cupping her bare breast. 

“Hotch,” she breathes against his neck. She’s working his belt off, letting him attack her neck. “Jesus,” his pants fall to the floor, weighed down by his useless belt. Her mouth opens to make a comment about how hard he is but the rough pads of his fingers cup her breast and she arches into the touch.

“Are you sure?” He whispers. “I don’t want you to-”

Both of her hands wrap around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. “Trust me,” she says, breathlessly. “I want this.” She’s wanted it for as long as she’s known him but he was married. So, she stuck to being his friend. His sounding board. “God,” she’s standing in his room, his rough hands pulling her panties to the side to work a finger inside her. 

He pushes her onto the bed, laughing that silly laugh that makes her chest ache, and for the first time in her life, she’s able to kiss him. She shares his goofy joy and she can feel him smiling as he kisses her tenderly. It occurs to her that their quick drunk fuck isn’t going to be so simple. His eyes are sober and his actions are soft.

His lips start to wander and her stomach flutters as he kisses her hip bones. He looks up at her suggestively, his hands spreading her thighs. He kisses the inside of her thigh, smiling as she can’t control the way they shake. 

“Aaron!”

Emily shudders as she’s pulled from the memory, heart pounding as he groans from beneath the mound of comforter he’s curled under.

The sheets rustle and Emily turns from the door to watch Hotch bolt upright in the bed. He’s on his feet in a flash, stumbling to the bathroom. He’s not of the state of mind to shut the door behind him so she hears as he gags and vomits into the toilet. 

She closes her eyes and curses him. She can’t leave him alone and if the clock on his nightstand is right, she’s got three hours before she’s due for rounds anyway. Which means, she’s just an awful friend to leave him like this. 

“That was gross,” she leans against the bathroom door frame. “You got a little-” she pats the side of her lip. She’s grinning ear-to-ear at his expense. He may be her best friend but it’s still far and in-between when she gets to see him so human. Without the white coat and stoic frown, he can be himself. He can be the stressed-out single father, going through a tough divorce, who spends nearly all of his waking hours depriving himself of comfort.

He drops his forehead against the cool toilet lid and groans. Wrapping a hand around his stomach, he curls his long legs beneath him. “Why are you being mean to me?” He rubs at his mouth, disgusted when his fingers find a bit of vomit on his lip. It makes his stomach roll with a vengeance that makes his head pound mercilessly. He ends up, gagging miserably again, nothing coming up. 

“Alright,” Emily steps in, rubbing at his back. She stands beside him, rubbing his back until he pulls his head up. “Let’s get back to bed,” she hooks her arm under his. It takes a moment, he doesn’t want to let her help him. She doesn’t relent and he caves, allowing her to ease him to his feet.

She’s pretty tall for a woman but getting him to his feet is nothing short of a small feat. "Jesus, " she grunts. He stumbles, leaning heavily on her. Everyone had noticed the weight he dropped after Haley filed for divorce. She can barely keep him on his feet now, she'd hate to have had to do it three months ago. "You're heavy!"

Hotch stops, glaring down at her. It’s a mystery to her how he can look exhausted, nauseated, and angry at the same time. He puffs like an angry little fish, strangely cute. “Are you saying I’m fat?” He makes a failed attempt to stand up straighter, making a soft grunting noise as his stomach revolts against the idea. 

Emily rolls her eyes, drama queen. “No,” she pushes him onto the bed. “You’re just a giant.” He bounces as he sits, frown set right in place. “Aaron,” she puts her hand on her hips and frowns right back at him. “Just take a nap, nurse your hangover, and remember to be in at ten when your shift starts.” She pats his shoulder and plants a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll bring you a coffee, huh?”

He yawns, grimacing as his head and stomach both protest. Sleepily, he rubs at his eyes, laying back on his bed. “I gotta…” he yawns mid-sentence. “Going to a parent-teacher meeting.”

She tries very hard not to look completely devastated. “Oh,” so no coffee. “Okay, I’ll see you after that then.”

He nods, “and I’ll  bring the coffee.”

__________

Last Friday when Aaron had cornered Dave and asked him to cover some basic stuff for him, Dave imagined he’d be doing some rounds, picking up after an intern, or fussing with an attending. He hadn’t expected a very specific, in-depth list of things for him to do:

8 a.m. take Reid to check-in on patients (keep communication at a minimal)

8: 30 a.m. bust Savannah Hayes (the nurse from the Emergency Room) and Derek Morgan in the second-floor on-call room

8:45 a.m. bring Garcia a non-fat almond milk vanilla lattee--

The man has stones… and that wasn’t even half the list. There are annotations, they came color-coded with sticky notes on additional pointers. Thumbing through the several pages worth of notes and instructions, Rossi shakes his head. Of course, he knows his old prodigy is a busy man. As much as he would like to think he’s what keeps this hospital on its feet… Aaron has a lot to do with it, too.

He’s got a knack for running into trouble just as it’s happening and juggling fixing the problem with making sure it never happens again. Which, in this hospital,-- a cesspool of one night stands, rule-bending, and overbearing masculinity-- makes him a very valuable member for the good side. Good meaning one of the few members of staff without his hands in another staff member's pants.

The problem is, Dave’s hardly got the time to comply with the whole list of nonsense demands Aaron wants him running about doing. He loves Aaron dearly, the boy is like his son but he’s a bit anal-retentive and Dave just… well, he doesn’t want to do all of this stuff. The hospital isn’t going to fall apart if he doesn’t meet every single thing on this list.

Well… hypothetically, right?

“Where’s Hotch?”

Rossi steps out of his office and finds Reid standing on the other side, weirdly close. “Woah,” he takes a step back when the genius doesn’t. He shakes his head, folding the list in his hand in half before regarding the doctor in his doorway. “Reid,” he acknowledges, stepping around the genius, and shutting his office door behind him. “I believe we’ve got rounds to attend to, correct?”

Brainbox is what a few members of staff have taken to calling the young genius. Hotch had made a point to talk to the other leading heads in departments to make sure they weren’t calling Reid that and for the most part, that had slowed down the spreading of the nickname. Dave understands why Hotch got ahead of that problem but on the same hand, it’s kind of fitting.

Reid nods, looking around Rossi and into his dark office. “Yeah but Hotch always takes me.” Technically, taking Reid on rounds is supposed to be Dave’s job. Hotch just made time for it. If Hotch times everything just right, he can get Reid on the second floor near the on-call room to bust Derek and Savannah with enough time to get Garcia her coffee and have time to swing by the cardiac wing and say hi to Emily.

Speaking of--

“What are you two doing down here?” Emily and JJ are standing where Dave is supposed to be, a smooth-talking Derek and meek looking Savannah standing between the pairs. Which means that the pair busted the couple before Dave could. It burns Dave. That skinny little runt. That bastard. Hotch has Emily on the same hunt as him because Hotch doesn't think Dave would do the list.

He’s right but… still, it kinda hurts. 

Emily isn’t wearing her signature smirk. For once, she’s got a one-up on him and she’s not biting. Something’s got her down. She offers a simple tight-lipped nod. “Hotch has me trailing you,” she informs him and Rossi understands exactly what it is that’s bothering her or better yet <i>who</i>. “He just doesn’t want the hospital burning down.”

So much for Dave’s earlier sentiment of Hotch keeping his hands to himself. Now, what’s he to do? He’s pissed that Aaron has hurt Emily but they’re both like his kids. What he needs to do is strangle for being stupid. Aaron for never outright telling anyone how he feels and Emily for letting men hurt her.

God, they just… The little idiots get under his skin like nobody else. 

“He’s a tight-ass,” Rossi mumbles, shaking his head. And a dumbass if he’s right about Emily. He puffs, “this place isn’t going to fall apart just because he misses a few hours.” Dave has been doing this for a long time. He didn’t get Chief of Surgery dicking around… well, he did a little bit but that’s not the point being made. 

Emily smiles, even if it looks a little forced. “Tell him that,” she offers with an eye roll. “I’m just not going to waste my energy with that argument.” Arguing with Hotch is a very taxing and pointless excursion. Especially, if the subject at hand goes against his paranoias and anxieties. So, in other words, the idea that the hospital won’t burn down without him.

Rossi can feel the mood shift and Derek must too because he kisses Savannah's cheek and excuses himself. “I’ve got my own rounds to attend to,” he admits. “Pretty boy,” he calls Reid to him. “Care to join me?” Morgan can handle a little responsibility. He won’t let Reid’s work slack on account of him.

Reid looks between Dave and Prentiss, unsure if he’s allowed to agree with Derek. Ultimately, he sees no qualms being raised by either of them so he nods and his head. He tucks his hands in his pocket and stands by Morgan’s side. Waiting for the plastic surgeon to leave.

“I’ll catch you later,” Derek says with a wave of his hand. Fully intending to make good on that promise at lunchtime where he’ll attempt to tear down Emily’s walls to get her to talk about whatever is bothering her right now. With any luck, it’ll be something juicy.

Rossi turns and watches the pair walk away, wondering how many more chores he’s been left to do. “I should probably--” he lets his voice wander off as he pulls the list from his pocket. He motions to with an air of defeat, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Can I trust you two to behave?” 

JJ smiles, “I think we both know that the only pair you should be worried about just walked off to do rounds.” Her smile broadens as she considers all the mischief Reid and Morgan can get into. “However, if I were you, I’d go investigate what they’re really off doing because I’ve never known Morgan to do his work on time and not last minute.”

Dave is obviously not buying her diversion but she’s planted the seeds of fear in his mind. Unable to think of anything aside from whatever Morgan and Reid are out ruining, he lets them go. Besides, he’s certain he’ll figure it out sooner rather than later anyhow.

As soon as Dave turns the corner, JJ turns back to Emily. 

“So,” the blonde inquires knowing they’re both working on a tight schedule. “You and Hotch?” 

Emily nods. She doesn’t regret it. That’s what she’s learned from her morning full of nothing but introspection. She wishes she regretted it because then she’d be able to tell JJ that she's not madly in love with him. “We were drunk,” she tells her because somehow that makes it okay. But then she remembers how he kept asking if she was okay. 

It’s the bare minimum but… no one’s ever actually done that before.

“I’m surprised he could,” JJ admits. “He had a lot to drink.” They’d been celebrating… something. Reid and Garcia were celebrating, actually. The rest of them were just drinking away another miserable day at this hospital. 

Emily nods her agreement. It’s unusual for Hotch to drink let alone get drunk enough to have sex with her. “He was very sweet,” she admits.

JJ smirks… What else was she expecting? Hotch can be an asshole but the majority of the time he really is a gentleman. Unless you incur his wrath and if you do… well, that’s your business. He’s a bit of a hothead but it does take a lot to get him worked into yelling. 

Besides, Hotch is nothing but a sweetheart to Emily. They can act as blind as ⅔ of the three blind mice but that doesn’t change the heart eyes they exchange. It still leaves a lot to be desired on a lot of their exchanges, though. The way he reaches over and, without prompting, opens boxes or bags for her. The way Emily creeps into his personal space and he doesn’t comment or even step back.

“I don’t think it’ll work out, though.” Emily takes a long sip from her coffee, eyes thoughtfully trailing off. Actually, she’s not sure it won’t work but she’s about thirty percent sure he doesn’t love her and she needs someone to tell her that she’s not making it up. 

JJ scoffs at that. 

Emily stops walking, eyeing her friend up. “What?” Of course, she wants to know exactly what’s warranted that reaction.

JJ rolls her eyes, “Emily, I have watched you two make some of the most disgustingly adorable faces at each other for the better part of the last year. I’ve seen Haley watch your every move.” JJ picks her pace up, leaving Emily in her momentary frozen state. “He’s hopelessly in love with you Emily and if you don’t feel that way back then you’re lying to yourself and to him.” JJ turns around, walking backward so that her words are met with Emily’s full attention. “And you both deserve better than that.”

__________

Penelope Garcia is certain that someone is leaving her out of the loop.

For starters, Derek and Spencer are giggling in one of her observation rooms. Meaning that they’re not being watched… as they should be.

Emily and JJ brought her coffee this morning.

Dave has been MIA, besides coming down here half an hour ago to ask where Morgan and Reid had “fucked off to”. She would have happily informed him of the shenanigans, no doubt, happening in her emergency room, but Morgan had gotten to her first. Who is she to say no to her Chocolate Thunder so of course, she told Dave she hadn’t seen him yet this morning.

“MVA with three vics incoming!”

Garcia sighs, standing up from behind her desk. She looks over the doctors and staff floating through the emergency room. “Charlotte,” she calls the baby nurse over. Baby being the term she’s using because Charlotte is all of about twenty-three. She finds it adorable. “Honey, do you know where Hotch is?”

Another nurse, Savannah Hayes, steps up to the station. “Uhm, he’s on call.” There’s something about her knowing smile that tells Garcia exactly why Savannah knows that: Derek Morgan. “Off to a-a…” she snaps her fingers as she tries to recall what Morgan was telling her earlier that morning. “Parent-teacher meeting,” she recalls. “He’ll be back later though.”

Garcia frowns, making a mental note to ask about the meeting later. She’s about to ask how Morgan is since she hadn’t seen him that morning when the emergency room’s doors open and the EMTs run-in with the first victim.

“Forty-year-old car crash victim, head-on collision.” The EMTs come in running, shouting out information to whoever will listen. “Pressure is 50 over palp, his respirations were shallow in the field.” The stretcher is relinquished to the closest E.R. doctor. “Pupil dilation was equal and reactive at sight. ”

Garcia pulls herself together, clearing her throat as she steps up to the stretcher. “I want--” the order dies on her lips. The man on the stretcher is pale, paler than normal. His black hair plastered to his scalp, not in it’s usual combed but contained mess. His brow isn’t furrowed and he’s not looming and glooming but she’d know him anywhere.

Her brain blanks. Training and training and protocol and protocol but… It’s not very often she gets a friend in here. “Uhm,” she can feel the emotions taking over where she should be calm. Hotch needs her to be calm. “I need you to take him to--” her mind blanks but her pointing finger guides the seasoned EMT well and the two separate with a business-like nod.

“I need someone to--” Garcia turns and Charlotte is right there. “I need you to call the Chief down here and-and Derek and everyone!” She doesn’t look back or check to make sure she’s understood, she follows Hotch into the next room. There are ethics and protocol and so many things running through her head as she grabs her boss’s hand but there’s not a chance in hell anyone’s pulling her away.

Once in the room, she sets about doing her job. Looking up only as the curtain is thrown back and she finds David Rossi looking back at her.

“It’s Hotch.”

Garcia cuts through his shirt, the thin Hanes material giving like butter with her scissors. Tears sting her eyes, “oh, my liege.” She looks up and Derek and Spencer are right behind Dave, everyone filing in. It takes them a moment, just as it did her before they throw themselves into their jobs.

Rossi pulls the cut shirt away, shaking his head. “Chest movements are paradoxical,” he informs them, moving his hands to palpate Hotch’s abdomen. “Abdomen is rigid, too.” He places the stethoscope on Hotch’s diaphragm, sighing. “I need to place a chest tube, get me a cart.” He throws the stethoscope cord back around his neck, stepping to the side.

Out of the corner of her eye, Garcia sees Rossi going for the tools he needs for a chest tube. She doesn’t want to say they don’t have time for that but… “Pulse ox is 82,” Garcia informs them. “It was just 88.” Her hands are trembling as she moves around them, a flurry of movement all of them trying to do their jobs. “Oxygen is dropping.”

Morgan curses, “I need to intubate him.” The utensils are already gathered in his hands-- muscle memory to reach out for the tools that are cold and familiar in his palms. “Do you want to be the one to tell him he’s got heart damage or worse because we let his oxygen drop to below 80?”

Reid, standing by Hotch’s head, interlaces his fingers and shakes his head. His anxiety is sky high, it’s all too much. “Can’t,” he mumbles, shaking his hands out. “If a patient with pneumothorax or other indication for tube thoracostomy requires intubation and mechanical ventilation, the chest tube should be inserted first to avoid creating an iatrogenic tension pneumothorax.” He presses his palms into his temples. All the noise, everyone shouting is overstimulating him.

It’s why he doesn’t work in the emergency room.

“I just need a second, dammit!” Rossi’s hands are shaking, “let me get the chest tube in!” The scalpel in his hand trembles over Hotch’s skin. He’s pale from adrenaline and clammy to the touch. The emergency room feels different without Hotch looming over them. He’s not shouting out orders into the chaos or guiding anyone through procedures with his scarily calm voice.

“Dave? Come on, man!”

Rossi shakes his head, clearing his dismal thoughts. He clenches his jaw and makes the incision into the fourth intercostal space. “Clamp,” the cold metal is pressed into his palm and he places it inside the area. “Dissecting the pleural space,” he mumbles, working the clamp under Hotch’s skin so that the area can accept the tube.

Hotch’s body jerks away from Rossi, a soft grunt coming from his mouth. Reid steps back to his head, clicking his penlight on. “Right pupil is five millimeters and reactive,” Reid hovers by his friend’s head. He guides the light to Hotch’s left eye, yelping when the man jerks his head away from the light. “Hotch?” His eyes blink open, his head turning from the penlight. “He-He’s conscious!”

Rossi stands up from his spot, pulling his bloodied gloves off. He moves to Hotch’s head, “Aaron? Aaron, can you hear me?” He presses his warm hand to Hotch’s cheek, guiding Hotch’s attention to him. “Can you hear me, son?”

Hotch’s eyes are jerking around the room, his mouth open but silent as he writhes in pain. He can’t breathe. His chest is heavy but he’s only thinking about one thing: <i>Jack</i>. The strangled sound that leaves his mouth is inhuman, he doesn’t recognize it. The pain becomes excruciating.

“Sedate--” all too familiar with that word, Hotch turns his head towards Derek. The other man is red in the face, his anxiety bubbling into rage. Profanities litter his speech but Hotch’s mind is too exhausted to nitpick out the words. For now, the only one worth thinking about is sedate.

He pulls away from the bed, a burst of energy leaving him trembling but upright in the stretcher. “N-No!” Jack. Jack was in the back seat. He couldn’t reach Jack. He has to get to-- Something cold runs into his arm and looks down, body suspended by his friends and coworkers, and it’s Reid. In his hands is the syringe Garcia had gotten out. Hotch feels his chest tighten-- he feels betrayed.

“Easy, son.”

Hotch feels himself falling back but he doesn’t hit the hard surface of the gurney beneath him but rather hands. Gently, he’s guided back down. Sweat sleeks his hair to his face and he’s limp in the hands as Derek steps towards his head. They’re talking-- words he understands but…

Derek cranes his neck back, Hotch can see his lips moving, but he’s not taking in any of the words. He <i>knows</i> they’re asking him to do a simple task: blink on command to questions or offer a thumbs up. His inability to do these tasks, to even focus on anything other than the cold air on his exposed flesh is the reason they keep moving around him. Shouting as if he isn’t really there at all.

A thumb presses on his chin, forcing his jaw open. He grimaces as cold metal slides into his throat. Floating between conscious and unconsciousness, he gags and feels himself twist to get away from the tube pressing into the back of his throat.

“Easy--” someone comforts as hands press his shoulders down.

Air fills his lungs, it hurts-- every muscle, bone, tendon, <i>everything</i> hurts. He can breathe though, full lungfuls of air. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the ambu bag, bright blue, and in Reid’s hands. They make eye contact and Hotch watches as Reid syncs their breathing. The young genius’s shoulders rise as Hotch’s lungs fill and fall as he exhales.

There was once a time when Hotch had stood by Reid’s side, his hands covering Reid’s over the ambu bag. He’d always been able to be more patient with Reid than he was with many other students. Reid’s just a kid. So he made a point to remember that in every interaction he had with the genius.

And he’d grown to appreciate Reid’s unique sense of humor. He’s a good guy.

A good kid.

“Hotch?” Reid’s throat tightens as he watches a pained grimace come across his boss’ face. He’s uncomfortable and in pain but Reid can’t do much besides keeping the ambu bag moving at a steady pace. “Garcia?” He feels a flutter of anxiety knotting his heart up. “Can’t you do something? He’s in pain.”

Morgan interrupts whatever Garcia’s going to say with a shout, “just pulled a positive tap!” A second later, the metal starts hitting the table with a clatter. The wheels of the stretcher unlock, the guard rail going up. “He’s got blood in his abdomen, he needs to get into the OR, now!”

Dave takes a stumbling step back, his arms raised above his head. It’s muscle memory to pull them away from the field-- the field, of course, being his friend's bleeding body. His heart sinks to his feet but follows in the direction that Derek is pushing Hotch. His voice barking out orders that echo down the hall.

Dave watches them go.

“Sir,” an attending waves him down. “Hotchner’s wife is gonna need heart surgery.”

Dave’s got another job to attend to.

He has Savannah call Emily to the OR. He meets his team in the room. They’re working with silence. “If you can’t pull yourself together,” his voice is harsh because they’re past life and death. “Get out of my OR.” He looks around the crowd of faces, nurses and doctors he’s known for years. There’s a solemn understanding.

They wait on edge.

“Prentiss won’t know,” Dave tells the team. His eyes move to the woman on the table and without a word, he draws back the blue cloth over her eyes. The room stands in silent shock. All of them recognize her.

Haley Hotchner.

They’ve seen the evolution of the divorce. The way Aaron came into the hospital fresh-faced and new. Haley used to bring him lunch and Dave used to catch them in the on-call room. They’d gotten pregnant, had their ultrasound a floor down from where Haley now lays. Had their boy, Jack, and fallen into a pit.

Haley stopped kissing him between visits to the hospital.

She stopped visiting altogether.

Then Emily had come.

“Prentiss can’t know.”

She won’t know.

Emily Prentiss has mastered the art of chugging hot coffee and running, which is what she’s currently doing. Emergency heart surgery, she’s thrilled. Even more so when she steps into the room and things are already in motion.

“Dave,” she greets the older man as she steps into the operating room. Her hands are raised, waiting for a nurse to place gloves over her hands. “What’re you doing in here?”

It takes every ounce of his self-control to keep his voice steady. He clears his throat, “thought I’d watch the master at work.” Sure, Dave, win her over with flattery. Maybe then she won’t hate you for lying. “That alright with you?”

Emily shrugs, “I don’t mind dazzling you.” Gloves snapped into place, she adds, “but I do prefer Heart Goddess. You know, for future reference.” She turns to Savannah, who she recognizes behind her mask. “What do we have?”

Savannah glances at Dave. For a moment, Dave’s certain the cat’s about to be out of the bag but before he can fill the silence, Savannah clears her throat. “Thirty-five-year-old female with a suspected arterial wall collapse.”

Emily frowns as she walks past the patient, eyes scanning over the ultrasound that’s pulled up. “Suspected?” she repeats. She doesn’t like the sound of suspected but she’s not complaining. It could certainly be worse. She shrugs it away. “I’m gonna time myself,” she announces. “Have you started her on L.R.s?”

“Two liters L.R. and a unit of packed cells.”

Emily nods her head and moves back to the patient. “Alright, sounds good to me.” She extends her right hand, “ten blade.”

They all watch in baited silence as she sets to work.

“It’s a goddamn…” the frustration in her voice is clear. Her brows furrow and she falls silent.

Dave tries to keep himself calm but taking a deep breath doesn’t settle his nerves. He leans over the operating table, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches. “How’s it going,” he asks. He’s a damn good surgeon himself but it’s been a long time since he was running a heart surgery like this one. His specialty runs more towards general.

Emily shakes her head. When the monitors sound in alarm she doesn’t look up to see what it is, the curse she lets out says she already knows exactly what’s wrong. “Her…” Emily pauses as she works. “The inferior vena cava is completely collapsed. I don’t know how she’s--” Both of their heads snap up as the heart monitor sounds out in alarm.

Emily pulls her hands up, shaking her head as she works. “I can’t do anything,” she tells Dave. “Everything’s a mess. She’s bleed dry and I’ve maxed out the dopamine ....” Emily blows out her breath, letting herself think. “Let me try…” she leans back over Haley.

Whatever she’s doing, causes the monitors to get louder. “Dammit!” Emily keeps working, asking for different tools as fast as the nurses can hand them to her.

The monitor flatlines.

Emily pulls her hands out and she looks over at Dave. “There’s nothing I can do,” she admits. “The heart was shredded.”

Dave refuses to believe this. “No,” he tells her. “There has to be something.” His attention snaps up as Derek steps into the room adjacent to the operating room. He’s come for news but Dave can see his eyes travel to the monitor. His shoulders sag and his mouth opens in disbelief.

Dave looks to the ground, “go talk to Derek.”

Emily frowns at him, “what is your problem?”

He doesn’t mean to. It’s nothing against her. None of this is her fault. He stood right here. He saw. She did her best but sometimes there’s nothing you can do. “Go, Emily!”

Sulking away, looking more like a pissed-off teenager than an award-winning surgeon, Emily pulls her gloves off angrily. Making a point to throw them away where Dave can visibly see how hard she throws the limp latex. She shoves her way through the door and shakes her head at Derek. “What the hell is his problem?”

Dave watches through the window.

Derek starts talking, his hands gathering near his chest as he gestures and tries to work around telling Emily the truth.

Emily takes a step back, shaking her head. She argues with him, disbelief. No. Then her head turns to Dave and to the woman laying on the table. To the sandy blonde hair she just barely recognizes until Dave reaches down and moves the blanket draped over Haley’s face.

Dave can hear her muffled shout. Her voice grows frantic and angry as she accepts Derek pulling her to his chest but her fist hitting him. Fighting with everything she’s got for this not to be true.

For Haley to be alive.

Dave begins the slow process of pulling his own garments off. Someone’s going to have to tell Aaron.

He assumes that job is going to be left for him as well.

__________

It takes Dave a minute to find JJ. She’s lost in a sea of children, crouching so that she’s level with them as she speaks. Judging by the bandanna wrapped around her forehead, she’s got them into some game. Which explains how she’s oblivious to the news he’s carrying.

“Hey, kiddos.” He tries and fails to appreciate the youthful hope written across the snotty faces beaming at him. “I’m gonna need to steal Miss JJ for a moment, okay?”

JJ looks up and tells him to wait a moment, before she manages to wiggle out of the grasp of a rather small snot nosed child. Still, she gives the kid a pat on the head before stepping to the side with Dave.

“Aaron was in a car accident--” he tells her everything. That he lied to Emily and that Haley is dead. She takes it in stride. Nodding and inquiring about the surgeries. About Hotch’s outcome. 

“But you think he’s going to be okay?” she asks.

Dave hesitates before agreeing. “His intracranial pressure is being closely monitored but… they all worked to the best of their abilities and--”

JJ nods, right. They’ve got great surgeons under this roof. Hotch would be safer no place else. 

“I need to ask you a favor, though.” He rubs at the back of his neck, sheepishly recalling his short-circuited shout at Emily. 

JJ already knows, “I’ll take care of her.” She steps to the side, attempting to make good on her promise. 

“She’s with--”

“Aaron,” JJ finishes. “I know.” Because where else would she go? When Emily seeks comfort, she goes one to two places. To JJ or Hotch and considering Emily hasn’t been on the ward, the children love her so she’d know she must be with him. 

It doesn’t take long for her to find Hotch's room. JJ steps in, feeling her light bubble pop under the pressure of the blood not completely wiped from Hotch’s face. The additional loom and gloom do not help. “How’s he doing?” The room is devoid of all things light and cheerful. Sucked through the dark whole of her friends’ current moods. 

His vitals are good. A steady resting heart rate of seventy-two. He’s alive and that’s more than they can say for other victims of the crash. 

“He won’t wake up.” Emily stands up from his side. Uncurling her long legs from underneath her as she stretches out. Muscles ache and joints pop as she moves for the first time in several hours. She doesn’t look at him for too long, it makes her chest tight and her throat hurt to see him like this. 

She prefers the medicine of everything. 

She can understand pulmonary edemas, kidney failures, pneumothorax, and flail chest but… The comparison is medicine makes sense. Show her a blocked artery and she’ll work around it. Bypass isn’t an option? No problem. The surgery is over. Vitals are steady. There aren’t chest to crack or hearts to massage. All she can do is sit back and take watch. 

Her best friends sitting in a hospital bed hooked up to machines and she can do nothing. 

“Of course, he isn’t,” JJ grumbles, walking over to the light switch and turning on the lights. Bathed in the dark room, windows shut to cut out all natural light, and surrounded by artificial sound it’s no wonder he’s not waking up. They haven’t given him a reason to. “Emily, you’ve shut out all the natural light. Half of recovery is atmosphere and, if I were Hotch, I’d feel like everyone had given up on me.” 

JJ pulls open the blinds, the bright light making Emily recoil. The room, though, brightens, and JJ can feel the warmth in her chest. It occurs to her that maybe Hotch isn’t the only one who needs some looking after. While they can rest assured that Derek, Penelope, Dave, and Spence will cycle through the room periodically. Each of them checking sutures, drain tubes, and reflex responses. 

No one’s checking on eachother.

“Em,” JJ places a hand on her friend’s shoulder. Emily’s shoulders feel rock hard under her palm. “When was the last time you showered or ate?” 

Emily’s too tired to even think of numbers. Instead she leans into JJ, allowing her head to rest against the space between the blondes neck and shoulder. She’s fighting tears before JJ even hugs her back. “Are you sure you don’t want to run away with me?” she asks. “We can run away right now and do gay crimes and leave all the men in our lives right here.” 

JJ cups the back of Emily’s head, rubbing her back as she considers the offer Emily has been making a lot here lately. After a moment, JJ decides that she loves her best friend with all her heart and that gay crimes sound thrilling but she can’t. Besides the fact that she knows how good Emily is at sex and the gay crimes would be very gay and very nice… Neither really want to leave. “I think we’d better stay here, love.” She kisses Emily’s temple, “besides, I can’t leave in good conscience while Hotch is like this.”

Emily pulls away from JJ, moving her body so that she can lean into the smaller woman. She’s accepted with open arms and they stand leaning and silent as they watch Hotch breath. 

It’s artificial and that comes with it’s own sort of sting but it’s still him. 

“I killed his wife,” Emily whispers after a long moment between the ventilators hissing. 

JJ knows. Dave had come to tell her the minute Haley’s heart stopped the first time on the table. 

“She’s not going to be able to save her,” he’d whispered, hushed and frantic. “It’s going to crush her.”

Now, as JJ feels Emily sobbing silently beside her, she wonders how Dave knew. Emily’s never taken losing well. She’s heavily competitive. So, maybe this is the worst kind. Emily didn’t just fail… she let her best friend’s wife die.

“Ex-wife,” JJ corrects. Because that’s what Hotch and Halery were. Separated. Anybody with two eyes could see they still loved each other but the job always came first for Hotch. Haley… she wanted more. “She was his ex-wife.” Besides that, the distinction is important.

Emily knows it doesn’t matter. “I still killed her,” she replies. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

JJ looks at the man on the bed. There’s nothing she wants more than to reassure Emily that’s not true. She’s seen the way Hotch looks at her when no one else is watching. But she can’t really know. “Let’s go clean up,” she deflects. “You’ll feel better.”

God, Emily hopes she’s right.

__________

“We’re having a party.” Penelope Garcia is standing in front of her family, sans Hotch, with her hands on her hips and enough conviction in her tone to convince them that’s a solid plan. “JJ’s right,” she informs them. They had lunch together like they do every day. It may be normal to have one or two of them missing-- general surgery logs Hotch random hours and heart and brain surgery tend to run on the long side-- this is the first time any of their own have been on the table. 

The first time Reid wasn’t at the table because his hands were meticulously placing holes in Hotch’s head.

“This place is way too gloomy,” and she’s right of course. Even with the light funneling into the room from the blinds JJ pulled up, Hotch is still surrounded by their dismal moods. “We’re having a party.”

After a long moment, each of them rolling this idea around Dave speaks. He’s not against the idea but he’s not exactly going to give it the go-ahead, not yet. “Aaron would hate the attention,” he deduces because that’s the truth. Hotch wouldn’t even talk to them about the divorce.

The papers for which were delivered in the middle of the workday. JJ had been the one to go get Hotch. He was in the middle of a surgery… one that someone else had to finish. 

“He won’t even know,” Garcia informs them. “Reid’s keeping him in the induced coma for another night.”

This is, of course, news to the rest of the room. Reid had gotten out of the surgery and gone to collapse in bed. Exhausted. Emotionally and physically. 

Emily speaks up for the first time since the meeting had been called. “He could--” she realizes how helplessly hopeful she is as soon as the words start to come out. “He could still wake up.”

He could. Reid had decreased his dosage a little post-operation before he’d gone home but before Reid could even leave the hospital Hotch’s intracranial pressure had increased. 

“He could,” Garcia agrees. “That’s why, if he does. He’s going to be surrounded by us. Having a good time.”

And if there’s one thing that rings true through-out that hospital… If Garcia says it, then it’s Gospel.

“I feel stupid,” Emily grumbles, sitting still but not going through the party process as well as her friend would like. She’s in a dress because Garcia wants this to be a fancy party. Full of drinking and music. Emily knows Hotch would be just as happy if she were barefoot and daisy dukes. 

JJ taps her cheek, a small soundless reprimand for moving away from the eye-liner JJ is so meticulously placing on her eyes. 

Emily sits for the remainder of the make-up JJ paints onto her face. She can’t actively see it going on but she still knows it’s a lot.

“Oh my God,” Garcia beams when she sees Emily. “You’re gorgeous.” She looks at JJ, “I love it but we’re not trying to shock the man into another coma when he lays his eyes on our total bombshell babe!” 

Emily rolls her eyes and shakes herself loose from Garcia’s grip. “I’m not sure I can do this.” She admits, sinking back against her chair. “How am I… I couldn’t… I couldn’t fix Haley and I can’t fix my own heart… so, what am I, JJ? Because a heart goddess certainly isn’t it.”

JJ drops her knee, ignoring the way her own dress rides up her thigh. “Emily, you’re the heart Goddess whether you like it or not.” She cups the side of Emily’s face, wiping her thumb across a tear that dares to fall from her friend’s face. “Dave had you do the surgery on Haley because you’re the best surgeon in the damn county.” She shakes her head, “hell in the nation, probably. If you couldn’t save her then no one could and her best chances were when she was on your table.”

Garcia offers a hand on Emily’s shoulder. She squeezes lightly, “you did you best, Em. You tried to save Haley but now we have to go save Hotch.”

Emily nods, caving to the idea. “Fine,” she mumbles, “but I’m not dancing.”

She lasts four seconds because as soon as she steps through the door, Dave sweeps her up. “Dance with me, bella?”

It’s mostly shifting back and forth but she can feel the tension leaving her body as she accepts Dave’s proximity. After a moment of listening to Reid and Morgan’s bickering, Dave clears his throat. “I wanted to apologize for everything that happened earlier,” he tells her. They step closer to one another so that they can hear each other over the sound of the music and monitors. 

“It’s okay,” Emily whispers back, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I know…” she sighs, she’s not sure what she knows.

Dave rubs her back, keeping them moving. “At the very least,” he offers, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” 

She pulls away from his embrace just enough to stand on the tips of her toes and press a kiss to his cheek. “I forgive you,” she promises. 

Air cleared and feeling a little better Dave looks over to Hotch. The kid looks better. It’s hard to tell if that’s a placebo or the truth. “Is it just me,” Dave asks, “or does he seem to be getting more popular?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Maybe I should go into a coma.”

Emily snickers, “Dave, if you went into a coma… how would we ever know?”

Dave stops dancing, mouth open in shock. “I--” he shakes his head. “I can’t…” He shuts his mouth with an audible snap, “I can’t believe you’d say something like that!”

Behind them, Morgan and Reid are still in the heats of an argument about plastic surgery.

“Anybody can--” Morgan flusters, “it’s called aesthetic awareness, pretty Ricky. You don’t have it. It’s a fine-toothed skill and you can’t even color inside the lines.” He looks at Savannah for back-up but his girlfriend doesn’t offer it. “Never mind your mismatched socks. You just don’t have it, kid.”

Before Reid can offer a rebuttal on the matter, Garcia calls his name out.

“He’s waking up!” She dances at Hotch’s side, motioning them all over with a hurried flick of his wrist.

The music is turned down as Reid pulls out his penlight. 

“Hey, kid,” Dave greets softly. He takes Hotch’s left hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re all here. Reid, JJ, Garcia.” They watch as his eyes open, it’s just a sliver but the soft brown of his eyes greets them back none-the-less. “Morgan and Emily.”

A shiver goes down Emily’s back as his eyes turn over to her. She steps up, feeling awkward as the other’s part to let her through. Garcia lets go of his other hand, letting Emily takes his hand. “Hey,” she greets softly. She smiles, unable to contain her tears when his finger slowly crawls back around hers. 

“You’re gonna be a-okay,” Dave promises. “We’re all here, okay? You can get some sleep.”

His eyes flick over to Dave for a second before returning to her.

Emily looks around the room, uncertain… but her gut is forgotten by her heart as she leans over and places a kiss on his forehead. “Get some sleep, Aaron.”

Dave takes a step back, “good night, kiddo.”

She holds his hand until his eyes slip back shut. Waiting for another moment, just to be sure.

“He’s going to be okay,” Reid reassures her.

Emily steps back from the bed and nods. “I hope you’re right.” But Reid is never wrong and she holds onto that hope with everything she’s got.

@ssaic-jareau @emilyxprentiss @purple-scarf-mistress @blatant-attitude @torimea @jetaime-jespere 

[woodelf68]

Mornings

A loosely connected series of scenes throughout Loki’s life, from infancy through a future diverging from The Dark World.  9118 words. 

(Note: Loki’s age in each scene is as follows, with the years being the Midgardian equivalents -- scene 1, less than a year old. Scene 2, 5 yrs. old. Scene 3, 10 -- picture kid Loki from the movie flashback. Scene 4, about 15. Scene 5, close to 20, canon Loki as seen in his cell in The Dark World. Scene 6, between 25 and 30, it’s reader’s choice as to how much time they wish to have passed between the last two scenes.) 

                                             ---------------

The querulous cry of a newly awakened baby rang out in the quiet of the room. From her position with her head comfortably pillowed on her husband’s chest, Frigga held her breath, hoping. Perhaps he -- The cry came again, more demanding. She huffed a resigned laugh and started to push herself up. “At least he waited until we were done.” Odin slid out from under her. “Stay; I’ll fetch him.” Pulling on the robe draped over the end of the bed, he padded across to the cradle on the opposite side of the room and smiled down at his seven month old son, who immediately reached for him. “Hello there,” said Odin, ridiculously pleased, as always, when Loki quieted as soon as Odin picked him up, laying his head against Odin’s shoulder and putting his fingers into his mouth to suck on them. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” He pressed a fond kiss to Loki’s silky black curls, cradling the boy against his chest as he automatically checked his diaper. “Yes, you are. You don’t keep fussing once you’ve got someone’s attention. Now Thor -- well, let’s just say that your brother was always a bit more fond of the sound of his own voice.” While he was more than happy to leave this particular task to Frigga or the servants during the day, Odin was not so incompetent that he could not make quick work of changing Loki into a dry diaper, as he did so now. That taken care of, he picked Loki back up and returned to the bed. “What do you say? Are you hungry? Do you want your amma?” He sat down on the side of the bed and passed Loki into Frigga’s waiting arms. “Hello, my sweet son,” Frigga cooed, bringing Loki under the fur with her and guiding him to her breast. That first day, when a hungry baby had been placed in her arms, there’d been no time to look for a wet nurse, and when Loki had taken the goat’s milk she’d sent for without any problems, she had been reluctant to seek out one, selfishly not wanting to hand him over to another woman every couple of hours. If he was to be her son, she wanted him to look to her for his needs, for comfort and nourishment both, and she knew well enough that there were herbs to bring in a woman’s milk, and had soon found a spell to hasten their effects. They had told the court that she had hidden her pregnancy with magic, lest word of her vulnerable state reach Laufey’s ears and make her more of a target for foul play with Odin and most of Asgard’s warriors away fighting in the war. It had been easy enough to add, to those in her retinue close enough to express concern, that the magic had delayed her milk coming in. She could still remember the fierce rush of satisfaction a few weeks later when she had been able to nurse Loki herself for the first time, her heart whispering “mine ”, that feeling of him becoming really and truly hers. Not born of her body, but nourished by it, and he had thrived and grown apace ever since. If there had been the inevitable whispers that Odin had brought home a war bastard, most died away quickly enough as all saw how she doted on Loki, and Odin had, fortunately, come home for a brief visit around the time that Loki would have been conceived. Loki turned into her now and she felt her milk let down as he began suckling hungrily, his eyes fixed steadily on hers. She relaxed into the comfort of the pillows and furs, running a gentle finger down his snub nose and smiling as his eyes crossed as he tried to focus on it. Odin lay back down beside her and gently took hold of one of Loki’s feet, smiling as the tiny toes curled in response to his stroking thumb and Loki’s eyes cut briefly to him before refocusing on her. “Who’s that?” she asked softly. “Is that your pabbi?” She glanced at Odin and Loki followed her gaze, his small hand starfishing against her. “Yes, it is! And do you know how you can tell, hm? Because you called and he came. There are not many who can command the king of Asgard like that, you know.” Odin chuckled and slid back under the fur, coaxing Frigga’s head onto his shoulder so he could wrap one arm around wife and son both and use the other to run his hand through the long, heavy waves of her hair, shining golden in the gentle early morning light that illuminated the room. “Very true. And two of the three people who can are in this room.” 

Frigga made a contented noise and relaxed even further, letting her eyes drift half shut in pleasure. The duties of the day would claim the king soon enough, but in that moment, he was simply her husband, and a father, and she cherished every second of such times. 

                                                 --------------- “We’re about to be invaded,” Odin murmured, hearing the patter of four small feet and the whisper of hushed voices outside their door. It was his favourite time of the day, that early morning hour when he lay relaxed and comfortable with Frigga and they talked about their plans for the upcoming day. 

“One of the perils of having children.” she said, smiling. 

“But perhaps also one of the pleasures?” he suggested, smiling back. “Admit it, you will be sad when they have grown too much to come tumbling in like overexcited puppies at the break of day on occasion.”

Frigga laughed. “You are quite right. I shall no doubt be proud of the fine young men they grow into, but I shall miss my little boys.” 

"Should I knock? Maybe they’re still sleeping.”

"Knock softly!”

A subdued knock sounded on their door, and Frigga called “Come in!”

Thor and Loki burst into the room, still in their sleep clothes. “Happy Name Day!” they chorused. Thor held up the jar he was carrying. “We got you some flowers.” 

“And we drew you some pictures,” Loki added, coming over to the bed with some papers clutched in his hand. 

“Oh, thank you, the flowers are lovely! Place them right there on that table, Thor, and come show me your drawings.” She took the papers from Loki and patted the mattress beside her.  Promptly Loki climbed onto the bed to snuggle into her side, a small, soft warm presence, while Thor scrambled up next to him and crawled over her body to plop himself down on her other side. Odin sat up and leaned over Thor to see the drawings as well. The top one was done in coloured chalk, perfect for capturing the texture of fur, and Frigga smiled as she recognised the black and orange patches on the rounded white shapes in the center, one large and three small. 

“It’s Runa and her kittens!” She’d taken both boys to visit the barn cat and her litter a few days ago, instructing them to sit still and quietly and let the kittens approach them if they wanted to. Thor, ever boisterous, had kept fidgeting and whispering, but Loki had sat perfectly still, enraptured by the three small shapes, and had been rewarded when one of the exploring kittens had wobbled over on unsteady legs and had determinedly pulled itself up onto Loki’s lap, where he’d gently stroked it until it had started purring remarkably loudly for a creature of its size.

“Yes!” He beamed proudly. “Do you like it?’“I do indeed, and I love the flowers you drew around the border; they’re very bright and cheerful.” She moved his picture underneath the other one and saw what Thor had drawn. “Oh, Thor, this is really very good.” She admired the dragon rendered in Thor’s careful pencil work. “I should have you design a tapestry for me.”

“Really?” Thor sounded delighted by the idea. 

“Why not? Where is this dragon flying to, for instance?”

“His cave, in a mountain,” said Thor. “And it’s filled with his treasure horde.”

“I hope he’s a peaceful dragon,” said Frigga. “I’d hate for anyone to want to hurt him.” 

Thor’s face fell at that, as if he’d already been dreaming about slaying the dragon and winning some glory for himself. “I suppose he could be, if you wanted.”

“I do,” said Frigga firmly. “And perhaps he could have a younger dragon brother to fly by his side?”

“Me and Loki!” Thor enthused. “We could be the dragons! And we live in the cave together and go out and have adventures.”

“That would make a very nice tapestry,” agreed Frigga. “You boys could have it for your room.”

“I’ll start sketching it later today,” Thor promised. 

“What about us?” Odin asked. “Can your mother and I live in your cave while you boys go out flying around on adventures?”

“Yes! I’ll draw you two lying at the entrance with just your snouts sticking out. You can be a gold dragon, Father, and you a blue one, Mother. What about you, Loki?”

“Green,” said Loki promptly. 

“Well, I shall look forward to this epic picture,” said Odin, ruffling Thor’s hair. “It’s a very good likeness of a dragon, Thor. And I like yours as well, Loki.” 

“How big should I make the drawing, Mother?”

“We’ll figure that out after breakfast. Speaking of which, why don’t you two go get dressed and ready for the day and we’ll do the same, and we’ll come collect you for breakfast when we’re ready.” She leaned first to the left and then the right, kissing the tops of her sons’ heads.  “Thank you for the presents; they’re beautiful.” 

“You’re welcome.” Loki knelt up on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tightly. “Happy name day, Amma.” 

Frigga hugged him back, smoothing a hand over his tousled curls. “Thank you, my darling.” She released him and he slid off the bed, giving Thor room to climb over her and follow suit. He leaned over to give her his own hug once he was on his feet.

“Happy name day,” he echoed. “I’ll help Loki get ready.” 

“Thank you, my sweet.” She gave him a squeeze and let him go, watching as he took Loki by the hand and led his little brother from the room. She turned to Odin, beaming. “I think we have the best boys in the entire Nine Realms.”

The skin around Odin’s eye crinkled up. “I’ll remind you of that the next time Thor lets his temper get the better of him or Loki’s curiosity leads him into trouble.”

“I didn’t say they were perfect ,” Frigga said. “Perfect would be boring. And we both know who Thor got his temper from.” She looked at him pointedly. 

“I feel like I should be offended but I know you’re right,” Odin admitted. “But if he can learn to channel it, it’ll prove a great asset in battle one day. And at least he got your sweetness of heart to counter it.” Odin leaned over and kissed her.

“Flatterer,” she said fondly. “And what of Loki? What does he have of us?”

“He has your sweetness as well, and your cleverness, and your sensitivity to magic.” Odin looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure what he has of me. My eyes, perhaps,” he joked. “Or my eye; he only ever saw the one.”

“He has your watchfulness,” said Frigga, after a moment of thinking. “He knows how to sit and listen quietly, and remember what he hears. And how to choose his words with care.”

“If he picked that up from me, then I am well pleased,” approved Odin. “Let us hope that he grows up with a taste for politics; those traits will serve him well.” He rolled out of bed. “Come, we had best bestir ourselves before our hungry young dragonlings decide to go foraging for themselves and leave nothing but crumbs and wreckage in their wake.” 

Frigga laughed -- but she could picture the scenario all too well. She bestirred herself.                                                   ---------------

Loki woke with his heart pounding. Just a nightmare, he told himself, but telling himself that and truly believing it were two different things entirely. It would have been easier if he had been able to simply look to his side and see Thor asleep in his bed, but they had recently been given separate rooms, and he wasn’t sure, at the moment, that he liked it. He sat up, throwing back the covers and swinging his feet down onto the floor. He slipped from his bedroom and made his way across the common room that connected his and Thor’s chambers, the sky outside the windows lit with the brilliance of the stars, and quietly looked into Thor’s bedroom. Thor lay sprawled out on his bed, motionless, but Loki could hear his soft breathing from where he stood and was reassured. He retreated and made his way out into the hallway, and crossed over to his parents’ rooms, feeling the light tingle of the wards that, he knew would permit no one other than himself or his brother to enter once his parents had retired for the night. He passed light-footed through his mother’s weaving room and paused, hovering in the doorway of their bedroom, looking and listening. His parents lay back to back, his mother nearest to him, and after a minute he was sure of the slow rise and fall of the blanket covering her. He moved further into the room, just needing to be sure that his father was all right, too, before he could go back to bed. 

“Loki?”His mother’s voice was quiet, sleepy, but Loki nearly jumped out of his skin and couldn’t help letting out a squeak of alarm. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right?”

“Nightmare,” whispered Loki back. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Want to come in?” Frigga held up the blankets invitingly, scooting back away from the edge of the bed to give Loki more room. She bumped back against Odin’s solid form and he grunted and woke. 

“Hmphm?” he murmured, still half asleep. 

“Scoot back.”

Odin obliged, but lifted his head, confused, when Frigga followed after him and spied a black head silhouetted against the dim light of the room. “Loki?”

“I’m sorry, I just had a nightmare and needed to make sure you were all right before I tried to go to sleep again,” Loki apologised again. “I’ll go now.”

“Are you sure?” Odin moved back further on the wide bed, putting space between him and Frigga, and wished all parenting decisions were as easy as knowing what to do when your child came to you upset in the middle of the night. “You could come in between us, safest place in the Nine Realms."

Frigga smiled and moved back towards the edge of the bed, creating a perfect Loki-sized space in between them and lifted the covers higher. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Loki hesitated a second, then his feet carried him forward and he scrambled over his mother’s body. Up close, his father looked strange with his eyepatch left off for the night, but he had seen the scarred socket before, and he only glanced at it for a moment before nestling down between his parents and feeling his father’s arm drape comfortingly over him.

“That’s it,” Odin pressed a kiss to Loki’s hair. “I’ve got you; you’re safe.” 

Frigga turned over and curled around Loki from the other side, letting the covers fall back down over them and reaching out to rub his shoulder. “Do you want to tell us about your dream?”

“I wasn’t in any danger ,” said Loki.  “I was just...alone, here in the palace. It was completely empty; I couldn’t find anyone. But then finally, I found you. Except you were lying like you were laid out for a funeral boat, and I knew you were dead.” He took a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the scent of her, and felt the lingering dread from the nightmare dissipate. “And then I woke up.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Frigga stroked his hair soothingly. “I’m sorry, what a terrible dream. But I promise you that I am very much here and alive and have no plans to go anywhere anytime soon.”

Odin’s heart ached for his son. It was a common theme that ran through Loki’s nightmares, that of being alone and abandoned. Sometimes he was someplace cold, and crying for help that didn’t come, and Odin knew the source of that one. Sometimes Loki was surrounded by fire, and Asgard was burning around him, and that one worried him. This one...well, he knew how close Loki was to his mother; his mind probably couldn’t think of a worse scenario. “No more do I,” said Odin, hugging Loki just a little bit tighter. He thought of saying something serious, about how he still had a good many years left in him yet despite his age, but decided instead on levity. “You won’t get rid of us that easily.” He tickled Loki’s stomach. 

Loki giggled and grabbed at his father’s hand. “Good,” he said firmly. His father turned his hand, slotted his larger fingers through Loki’s own, and left his hand there, covering Loki’s reassuringly. Loki relaxed, feeling warm and safe and most definitely not alone. “You don’t think I’m a baby for not wanting to be alone after a nightmare?” he asked hesitantly, just to make sure. 

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Frigga reassured him. “I expect you’re still getting used to waking up alone in a room of your own, aren’t you?” She had often enough, through the years, looked in on the boys at night to find them snuggled up together in one bed to suspect that they had found comfort in each other after bad dreams. Certainly Loki hadn’t sought their bed in a while. 

“Yes, exactly,” said Loki, grateful that she understood. “I used to be able to wake up and see Thor sleeping in his bed and know that it had just been a dream and that everything was all right.”

“Your mother and I are lucky,” Odin pointed out. “If we have a bad dream, we have someone right here next to us to say that everything is all right and that it was only a dream.”

“I never thought of that,” said Loki thoughtfully. “Do you have bad dreams, Father?”

“I do, sometimes.”

“What about?”

“The usual, I think. Losing someone that I love, being lost. Finding myself in front of a crowd of people and realising that I don’t have any clothes on.” 

Loki’s eyes widened and he lifted his head, twisting around to look back at his father. “You have that one, too?”

Frigga laughed. “I think we all have, at one time or another. I used to have that one when I was younger, but no more. I seem to have grown out of it, thank the Norns.” Odin had handled that question well, she thought. Loki didn’t need to be burdened with the details of his father’s nightmares. She heard the first birds begin to call outside, but since the birds had gone to bed hours before she had, she felt justified in ignoring them. “Go back to sleep, little one,” she told Loki softly. “Morning will be here soon enough.” 

Loki closed his eyes obediently, and she began to sing softly, the words of the lullaby unforgotten through the years. Frigga watched him, his lashes lying dark against his cheeks, his breathing growing slow, and even, until she was sure he was asleep, and quietly finished the last verse. She glanced at Odin then, to see him watching her, the expression in his eye soft. “I half wish Thor were here as well,” she confessed in a whisper. “Perhaps he’ll come hunting down his brother in the morning. Then I could have all my boys snuggled in safe around me.” 

Odin looked amused. “Are you implying that I am one of your boys as well?”

“You are.” Frigga’s tone of voice dared him to say otherwise. “Mine to love, mine to care for.” 

“Good,” he said with satisfaction, sounding remarkably like Loki had but a short while earlier, and closed his eye, a contented smile on his face.  

Frigga watched her husband and son with a heart full of love. She should suggest that Odin spend some time with the boys tomorrow; both Loki and Thor were always hungry for more of their father's time and attention. And they were old enough now to learn more of the behind the scenes work of ruling the realm; perhaps if she framed it as an educational opportunity, Odin would agree it was worth carving out the time from his schedule. She found Odin's and Loki's joined hands under the covers, and laid her own atop them. falling asleep to dream of the day when her sons would stand side by side and lead Asgard into a bright and prosperous future.

                                                        ---------------

“Loki! Why are you still abed? Did you forget that we were going to go hunting this morning?” Thor came bursting into Loki’s bedroom with all of his usual exuberance, undeterred by the fact that his brother was still, obviously, asleep, or had been up until a moment ago.

Loki groaned and buried his head under his pillow. “Changed my mind. Tomorrow’s better. Go away. I’m sleeping.” 

Thor spied a familiar-looking book on Loki’s nightstand, the same one he’d been reading last night at supper. “Were you up all night reading?”

“What if I was? Some of us wish to improve our minds.” Thor was quiet for a moment, and Loki had the vain hope that Thor would go away and leave him in peace. Then he felt his covers yanked back, and squawked in protest. 

“And some of us wish to go hunting with our brother,” said Thor cheerfully. “Come on, the fresh air will wake you up.” He took hold of Loki’s legs.

“Thor, don’t you dare, I’m warning you --”

Thor pulled. 

There was a flash of green. It was followed by a startled croak.

Loki peered over the edge of his bed at the large green frog sitting on his floor. It looked back at him mournfully. “I warned you. Now hop along and stay out of trouble and I’ll change you back this afternoon. If you want to go hunting then, fine, if not, I promise to go to bed earlier tonight and we’ll go tomorrow morning.” 

The frog tried to walk, one webbed foot at a time, towards Loki’s bedroom door, before figuring out how to manage his long legs and gave a short hop, then a longer one, and presently disappeared from sight. He was going to be in so much trouble when he changed Thor back, Loki thought, but some things were worth it. He wondered if Thor would brave going to their mother, or if he would have the sense to simply wait the morning out in his rooms. The first option would restore him to his own form faster, if he made it into Frigga’s presence and could convince her of his identity, but it also risked him being seen by a member of the staff and deposited outside in a pond. Grinning at that mental image, he pulled his blankets back up and let his head sink back into his pillow. He reclosed his door with a wave of his hand and sank happily back into slumber.

                                                ---------------

Loki lay in bed and watched the dim lighting of the cell brighten. Morning, he assumed, though really he had no way of knowing, would never see the sky again. How early was it? he wondered. Was the sky still pink and gold from the sunrise, or had it already turned to blue? The constant white glare of the cell bothered him more each day, made him long for the shaded green places in his mother’s gardens (he could not think of her as anything else in his heart), or the dim recesses of the library, lit by the warm glow of lamps, or the muted light filtering in through the curtains in his rooms. At first it had been enough to have a place where he knew he was safe, where he could simply let down all his defenses and rest without fear or pain. He had slept for long stretches of time, those first weeks, while his body healed, waking only to eat ravenously of the food that was delivered to him. He heard the rattle of a meal tray being delivered now, the curt “Breakfast” spoken by the guard before they disappeared again. He rose and went to collect the tray. 

It had not escaped his notice that his meals weren’t standard prison fare, that there was usually at least one thing on his tray that was something that he particularly liked. There was always fresh fruit and juice for breakfast, and today, a veritable feast of a mushroom and cheese omelette and hot buttered toast and the spicy sausages his mother knew he liked, because of course it was her doing, he knew that much. There was even, astonishingly, a bottle of elven wine. the explanation for which was in the new book that had accompanied his breakfast tray. He opened it and read the inscription on the flyleaf: 

My dearest son,  

It seems cruel to wish you a happy name day, but I hope these small tokens of my affection will give you some pleasure on this day nevertheless. I tell myself it is better than last year, when I still thought you dead, and if you are kept apart from me, at least I know that you are alive and well. And I let myself hope that next year will be better yet, that something will have changed, for I refuse to believe otherwise. I will find a way to force it to change myself, if I have to. If you would only tell us what happened to you, give your father a reason to trust you again -- But this is not the time or the place to chide you for that, only know that when you are ready to talk I will be here to listen. And know that I will never stop loving you, nor celebrating the day you arrived in our lives, for you are one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given. As always, I remain

                                                            -- your loving Mother

He cried bitter tears then, tears of longing to feel her arms around him again, and tears of regret for his lost life. He wanted, desperately, to see the sky, to breathe fresh air, to walk without coming up against a wall after more than a few paces. Would it change anything if he told? He tried to remember why he hadn’t, that first day when he’d been brought back and paraded before Odin in chains. Spite? Anger? Shame? To show his parents how it felt to have a secret kept from them? Yes, all of those, he knew, but were they worth it? Did he want Thanos to come upon an Asgard unwarned, and unready? He thought of the palace littered with bodies, of the palace empty of life save for the slaughtered bodies of those who had had the chance to fight, and remembered, with a sudden chill, the nightmare that he had had more than once as a youth. He thought of his mother dead, and not knowing until one day a meal tray arrived with plain prison fare, no special treats. No more books. Of never seeing anyone again except the guard who delivered the meals, of never being able to have an actual conversation with anyone again. Alone, forgotten. Except no, Thanos would not forget him. Panic rose up and engulfed him, and he reached for the wine, uncorking it and taking a healthy swig. 

The wine helped a little, but he couldn’t truly relax until his mother’s projection appeared in the afternoon and the relief that swept through him almost made him giddy. He thanked her for the gifts, and was ashamed at how the basic courtesy made her face light up like the sun. 

“I only wish that I could do more.” Her hand rose, as if she would cradle his face. Loki fought the urge to turn into the touch, lest the contact shatter her illusion, and allowed himself to imagine he could feel the warmth of her hand upon his skin. “Tell me what it’s like outside today,” he said impulsively. “Is the sky blue?”

“It is, clear and blue with a few puffy white clouds floating around. It is just past midday, and the garden is full of the scent of the roses in bloom.”

She seemed to know what he craved, and painted a picture of the gardens with her words that invoked all his senses. And when he didn’t stop her, she continued on with all the everyday details of life in the palace lately, what she was doing to fill her time and then what was going on in the greater Realm, slowly expanding his world. She took it as a good sign, that he was finally expressing an interest in the outside world. 

Loki knew her time for him was up when she glanced behind her, as someone obviously came into the room where her body stood. 

“I must go now, but I’ll be back tomorrow,” she promised. “Imagine me giving you a kiss and a hug, and I swear that I shall one day do so in fact.”

“Mother,” Loki said quickly, before she could vanish, the careful “Allmother” that he sometimes used never having become easy or comfortable on his tongue. “Thank you for coming. And what you asked of me -- in the book -- I will consider it.” 

Her face lit up again. “I am glad to hear that. And I will never, ever stop coming to see you, not until the day that you are able to come and see me .” She held out her hands to him, letting him be the one to dispel her illusion in the little ritual they had developed, and reluctantly, he brought his hands down on hers, an almost physical pang running through him when there was no solidity of contact and she vanished in a shimmer of gold. 

“Husband,” Frigga said cooly, turning to face her visitor. “What brings you here at this time of day?” 

“Do I need an excuse to come see my beautiful wife?’ Odin asked, a challenging glint in his eye. 

“Well, if you have no matters to bring to my attention…”  She trailed off, then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin as she faced him. “I wish to see Loki.”

“Do you not already see him?” he countered. 

Frigga froze, had he seen or was he only guessing? His face was that inscrutable mask which served him so well as king but which she hated to see on her husband. 

Odin sighed. “I know you send your projections to him, you need not worry about that.”

Frigga relaxed. “Ah. I had wondered, but it seemed better not to bring it up if you were willing to overlook it,” she confessed.

“After that first time, when you didn’t press me further to allow you to visit him, I surmised that you had found your own way of seeing him. I know your abilities, and I know you would not let anything keep you from either one of your children if you thought they had need of you.” 

“I would not,” she agreed, steel in her voice. 

Odin dropped his head, half turning away from her. “I had no right to forbid you from seeing him in the first place. It was wrong, and it was cruel, and I am sorry for it. I wish that I had a better excuse, but in the moment, I was simply angry that he, too, had chosen to attack what he had sworn to defend. Jotunheim I could understand, to some extent, but Midgard?” He closed his eye briefly, feeling the weight of his years, and admitted the ugly truth about himself. “And I spoke what I knew would hurt him most.”

“Yet not sorry enough to take it back once you had spoken.” 

“It would have been seen as a sign of weakness.”

“It would have been seen as a sign of compassion!” Frigga snapped, then shook her head. Anger would not get her what she wanted, she knew that much. “So alike, the two of you are, always knowing the words that will wound deepest."

Odin fiddled with a paperweight sitting on a table, a simple, smooth stone with a design on it that had once been painstakingly painted by a young boy. “I remember asking once, what of me you saw in Loki. I had hoped for a better legacy than ‘cruel’ and ‘obstinate’.”

“It is not too late to fix things, Odin,” she urged. “A wise king knows when to admit he is wrong, and to correct his mistakes instead of letting them continue unchecked because he is not man enough to face up to them. When has Loki ever responded well to harshness? Perhaps he would not have stayed so recalcitrant in his refusal to speak of what befell him if you had showed some sign of kindness when he was returned to us. Who knows how long he spent in the Void, unable to think of anything but the fact that he no longer felt that he had a family? That his entire life was a lie? Small wonder he emerged mad, if that is all that happened, but I do not think it is. He did not just stumble onto an army of Chitauri and decide to invade Midgard because he wanted a throne. You did not see his face when I had Gungnir handed to him; he did not expect it, he did not want it.  He did not desire rule, only respect, to be seen as Thor’s equal, to make you proud. Would it have killed you to have welcomed him back as his father before you pronounced judgement as his king?” Frigga could not help her voice rising again in condemnation. 

“Invading another realm was not the way to gain that respect, nor trying to completely obliterate one!” Odin protested, turning back to her in anger, then his defiance dropped away. He did not want to turn this conversation into a fight anymore than Frigga did. “Never mind Jotunheim, not now. As I said, I understand something of what drove him to attack it, and though I do not condone such an extreme action, it was within his rights as ruling king at the time to retaliate for Laufey’s attack on Asgard. But it is what followed after that complicated matters. I could not simply banish him to another realm to learn a lesson as I did with Thor because I do not know what lesson he needs to learn, and I do not know if that realm would be safe, and most of all, I do not know whether Loki himself would be safe, or whether he might attempt to end his own life again.” Odin looked at her bleakly, the memory of Loki’s face as his son let go of Gungnir and let himself fall into the Void one that still haunted his nightmares. “What else could I have done, other than what I did?  And what would you have me do now?”

“It was not what you did but how you did it,” Frigga allowed, for Loki had been a threat that needed containing at the time, even she had to acknowledge that. “But as for now -- be his father! If you want to get him to trust you again, you have to show him that you deserve it. And you can start by letting me visit him, in person.”

“Why now?” he asked, stalling a bit but also curious. “Why have you waited this long to ask again?”

Frigga pursed her lips. “To be honest, until today, I have not been sure if he would welcome my actual presence,” she admitted. 

“And today?”

“It was a good day; he was quieter, more settled.”

The corner of Odin’s mouth turned up. “Perhaps we should have sent wine long before this.”

“Do you know everything?” she demanded in exasperation. 

“I wish I did. I would give much to know what happened to Loki in the year that he was gone. But do you not think I look in on my son every now and then? I know what today is as well as you do.”

“I don’t think it was just the wine. It had been opened when I arrived, yes, but not enough was gone to influence him in any way. I think he is just...coming back to himself.”

Odin thought of the way Loki had sat quietly and listened to his mother today, as he had watched from Hlidskjalf for a while before withdrawing his Sight and giving them their privacy, no longer the ranting, rage-filled man who had come back to them. It had been a slow change, but a steady one, and he thought longingly of the possibility of one day having his son back. Loki was not Hela, he reminded himself, despite their remarkable physical similarity. The Norns must have been laughing at him when they had sent him Loki’s way. A second chance, to raise a raven-haired child right. And he thought he had done so. Loki had not been molded for war, had not grown up without the softness of love. A succession of memories flashed through Odin’s mind. A baby, smiling and quieting as soon as he was picked up. A small body nestled against his. A boy trustingly slipping his hand into Odin’s. A young man walking with his mother’s hand tucked securely through his arm, love and pride in every line of his bearing. A son grown tall and strong, a son any man would be proud of. Had he told that to Loki often enough, or had he simply assumed that he knew, that that was what Odin had been saying whenever he laid an approving hand on Loki’s back or shoulder, whenever he trusted him with some matter of state, some diplomatic mission? Somewhere along the way they had lost that closeness which Loki and Frigga still had, and Odin had never regretted it more than when Loki had learned of a heritage which did not matter in the slightest to him, but had driven Loki to such despair that he had no longer seen a reason to go on living. 

“Odin?” Frigga’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

Odin cast back to the last thing she had said, and remembered, Loki coming back to himself. “I pray that it is so.” He paced across her room, thinking. He was going to agree to Frigga’s request, he knew, but he wondered if he could get something more out of it. Loki’s refusal to talk of what had happened to him during the year he was beyond all their sight irritated him in more ways than the simple defiance of it. Nothing about Midgard made sense; was that simply because Loki had not been thinking rationally at the time or was there a huge puzzle piece there that they were missing? His instincts said the latter, and he wished not for the first time that Thor had managed to bring home the weapon Loki had wielded along with his brother, wondered if there might not be a clue there. If the Bifrost had not been shattered, he would have gone and demanded it of the mortals himself, and not taken no for an answer. Or was he simply looking for a reason which would justify Loki’s actions, that he might give him a chance to redeem himself, as he had given Thor? He nearly growled in frustration as he came up once again against his complete lack of knowledge.  

“How much do you think he wishes for your company?” he asked. “Enough to finally tell us what happened to him in exchange for it?”

“I don’t know,” Frigga admitted. “But he did say he would consider talking about it when I mentioned it again today.” 

Odin brightened at that. "Considering" was not "agreeing to", but it was the first time that Loki had even given them that much. “Then perhaps we should wait until he comes to that decision. If we give him something that he wants before he does so, it might remove the impetus to give us what we want." 

“Odin,” Frigga pleaded, allowing all of her yearning to come through in her voice. “I have not been able to hold my son in over two years. Have not been able to offer even the comfort of a single touch.”

Odin hesitated, then gave in. “A week. We will give him a week, and if he does not say anything more about it, then I will go to him with my offer.” It was hardly any time at all, when Loki had held out this long, but he was tired of being at odds with his wife, and hoped this would help mend the rift between them. 

“And if he refuses it?”

Odin looked at her face, saw the fear that she would be further denied the chance to visit her son, and felt shame that he was the cause of it. If Loki scorned him as weak for this, then so be it. He would make this one thing right. “Then you may visit him anyway.” 

Frigga’s face lit with joy, and the next thing he knew she had her arms around him. He tried to get his arms up to embrace her back, for he had not been favoured with such attention for a long time, but she was already stepping back, her hands lingering on his shoulders for a moment while she beamed at him. 

“Thank you,” she said with heartfelt fervour. 

“Am I forgiven?” he asked hopefully. 

“Ask me again when I have held my son in my arms,” she said, but she was still smiling, and Odin’s heart felt lighter than it had for a long time.

As it turned out, they didn’t even have to wait a week.                                       ---

                                                       ----------

As if thinking of the old dream conjured it back into existence, Loki was haunted by it again that night. Running through the empty palace, looking for someone, anyone, only to find, at last, Frigga, laid out and lifeless and waking to his heart pounding in panicked dread. And for the first time in his life, he could do nothing to reassure himself of her safety other than wait for her visit. When she arrived, he took a deep breath of relief. Only a nightmare, he told himself. But it was harder to dismiss when he woke from the same dream the next morning, except this time he had heard Thanos’s laughter when he had come upon his mother’s dead body, and impossible the third. He was too agitated to eat breakfast and paced restlessly until Frigga finally showed up. 

“Tell the Allfather,” he said, having made up his mind that he had to do something, that if the Norns were sending him a message he could not risk ignoring it. If he could not be free to guard his mother’s life, then he must give up what knowledge he had that would allow her to be best prepared to defend herself if and when Thanos broke into the Nine.“That I will answer any questions he may have in return for you being allowed to visit me in person.”

Joy swept through Frigga. “He will be hearing petitioners now,” she said. “Shall I interrupt him or wait till he breaks for the midday meal?”

“Better wait." He didn't want his mother to leave when she had just arrived, and it would give him time to prepare what he was going to say, how much he needed to reveal. "But do it today."

“I will,” she promised.                                     

                                                     ------------

A couple of hours later, Loki came to his feet as he heard approaching footsteps and stood facing the front of his cell, his hands clasped behind his back. He tensed as he saw Odin, but his heart leapt when he saw his mother following behind him. 

“Loki,” Odin greeted. “I understand you wish to strike a deal.” 

“I do. I will answer any questions that you have in exchange for mother being allowed to visit me whenever she wishes. Inside my cell,” he stressed. When Odin didn’t respond immediately, he swallowed his pride and added “I swear I will not hurt her, nor attempt to use her in any way to escape this place.” 

“I never thought that you would hurt her,” Odin admitted after a moment, and glanced at Frigga, then gestured towards the cell. “Very well. Go ahead.” 

Two long strides forward and Frigga was deactivating the energy barrier that formed the front of the cell, one more and she was pulling Loki into her arms. “Loki,” she breathed out fervently. “My son.” 

It had happened so fast, Loki hadn’t been prepared for it, and flinched back for a second, from the shock of being touched after so long without it, and because for so long before that, touch had always meant pain instead of comfort. He didn’t know what to do for a moment, but then her scent hit him, the smell of herbs and flowers and fresh air, that whispered ‘home’ and ‘safe’ and ‘loved’, and his arms came up instinctively as he wrapped her up tight in his embrace and buried his face against her neck. “Mother,” he said desperately, and then quieter, for her ears alone, “Amma .” 

“I’ve got you,” Frigga whispered, burying her hand for the first time in the new length of his hair. “You’re safe.” 

Odin heard them both, and relief and remorse swept through him in equal measures. Their son was still in there, still reachable, but looking at Loki’s face was almost painful. Whatever happened today, he vowed he would not keep them apart again. Belatedly he realised he had not reactivated the energy barrier and stepped forward to do so.

Loki heard the faint hum crackle back into life and glanced up, a faint smirk on his face. "A bit slow there, weren't you? I could have teleported right out of here in a second."

Frigga tightened her grip on him. "If you had tried, you would have had to take me with you."

"What an excellent idea, Mother," Loki said brightly. "Where would you like to go?"

She gave him an admonishing shake. "Don't tempt me, you."

"And yet you didn't," said Odin. "Perhaps I am simply choosing to trust my son to keep his word, that he will not try to use his mother's presence in an attempt to escape. Am I wrong to do so?"

Loki shook his head, and raised his chin a notch. "You are not."

For the moment, the mask was gone from his son’s face, Loki’s eyes wide and vulnerable in a too gaunt face, and Odin was reminded of just how young Loki still was. "Good,” he said approvingly. “In return, I ask you to trust me, Loki. Tell me what happened to you. Let me help you, if I can." 

“I will save you time and tell you the only thing that you need to know. Thanos the mad Titan seeks the Infinity Stones, and a way into the Nine. Asgard must prepare her defenses and stop him from finding them all.”

Odin's mind instantly flashed back to the conversation that he’d had with Thor on his return to Asgard, when he had grilled him about everything that he could remember Loki doing or saying on Midgard, seeking some clue to his youngest son’s behaviour. 

He had a sceptre, with a blue stone, with the ability to control the minds of others.

 He was not like himself at all. He looked unwell, and afraid at times, and the manner in which he attacked was so unlike his usual style that I thought he must be in league with someone else.

I thought I was reaching him, when I asked him to stop and come home. For a moment I could see the brother that I knew in his eyes, but then he said that it was too late to go back, and he shook it off and went back to the attack. 

A picture was coming together in Odin’s mind, and it was not one that he liked. Loki, his mind already broken, falling into the hands of a being of incomparable power, one who wished to escape his exile outside of the Nine. Thanos discovering that Loki had the ability to walk the shadow paths between worlds. Had the scepter truly borne a blue stone, or had it been a yellow stone concealed in a blue housing? Were the mortals the only ones it had been used upon?  The Tesseract. Mind stone and space stone. One risked to gain a second, a ploy that had failed. If Thanos could break into the Nine, it would not only be the Stones he came after, Odin guessed, it would be Loki, for failing to deliver what he had been sent for.  For he had no doubt now that Loki had been sent. A year gone, beyond Heimdall’s view.  How much of that time had been spent in the Void, how much being broken until his proud, powerful son had been turned into a tool to be used?  Had Midgard been offered as a reward for service, or had Loki wanted it as a sanctuary, a bulwark against the Mad Titan when he felt he no longer had a right to claim Asgard as his home? 

Oh, Loki, Odin thought, his heart clenching for his son. What did he do to you?  He reached out and deactivated the force field at the front of the cell again, and walked in to join his wife and son, meeting Loki’s startled gaze steadily. He had failed his son once, he was not going to fail him again. 

“On the contrary, I think I’m going to need to know a great deal more than that.” 

Loki, still standing within the circle of his mother's arms, stared. Odin had set the barrier to re-form behind him, effectively trapping him inside the cell with Loki. He would need to call the guard now to let him out. "Was that wise? Locking yourself in with a dangerous criminal? I only promised not to hurt Mother, you know."

"if I have been so poor of a father that I need fear attack from my own son, then perhaps I deserve it." There had been no threat in Loki's voice, though, merely a pointing out of facts, and Odin grinned mischievously. "You can try, though." 

Unexpectedly, Loki felt the corner of his mouth quirk up, feeling oddly reassured instead of offended that his own strength and skills were being dismissed. He wanted his father to still be strong, he realised, wanted to feel that childhood certainty that Odin could fix anything, that he could handle any problem brought to him and make everything all right again. He knew that wasn't the case anymore, but still, if Asgard were to stand any chance at all against Thanos, she would need the strength of all her warriors, led by a strong king. And that king needed to be armed with knowledge as well as weapons, knowledge that Loki was tired of bearing alone. If nothing else, Odin could share that burden.

"I would not wish to upset Mother," he said diplomatically, and heard Frigga huff beside his ear. 

"No more would I, yet I fear I have done so for far too long. But I am trying to make amends. To you and to her," Odin stressed. "Talk to me, Loki, please. Let me be the father I should have been when you first returned." 

For a change, Loki did not feel the need to deny that Odin was his father, knew he could not do so with any conviction at the moment. If not Odin, then who? Certainly not Laufey, who had left him to die. At least Odin had been there, and was here now, apparently still willing to call Loki his son. Perhaps one imperfect father willing to admit his mistakes was better than none. The anger that he had nurtured for over a year fizzled out, and he swallowed hard. "What more do you wish to know?" 

"Everything."

His mother's hand gripping his tightly, grounding him, Loki took a deep breath and began to talk.

                                                                                                    -------------------

“Amma.”

Sif woke to a small hand tugging on the sleeve of her nightshirt. A pair of clear blue eyes beneath a head of tousled black curls peered at her from just over the top of the mattress. 

“What is it, Ullr?”

“I had a bad dream.” 

Sif yawned sleepily. “Do you want to spend the rest of the night with us?”

Ullr nodded. “Yes, please.” 

He held up his arms to her, and Sif saw that he had his much-loved stuffed bear with him, a present from his Aunt Jane. She sat up and reached down, lifting Ullr up onto the bed and scooted back. Loki, who was always a light sleeper, woke with an inquisitive noise as she bumped into him.

“Mhm?” He rolled onto his side, automatically reaching out to drape an arm over her and draw her close, and came up against an unexpected shape. He woke a little more. “Sif?”

“It's just Ullr. He had a bad dream.”

“Put him between us, then.” He moved back, making room.

“Go on, Ullr.” Sif held the covers up. “You heard your father.” She smiled as Ullr promptly scrambled over her body and was instantly gathered in close by Loki.

Loki nuzzled Ullr’s hair, breathing in the sweet scent of his son and wrapping an arm securely around him as Sif turned to face them, letting the covers fall back over them, enclosing them in a soft, warm cocoon. Ullr didn’t seem visibly distressed, so either the dream hadn’t been too bad, Loki thought, or the memory of it was already fading. Still, there were words which had to be said.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly. “You’re safe.”

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[adelheidvonschicksal]

Cuddles and Confessions 2 | Todoroki x Busty!Reader

Sequel that requests Todobabe and Reader going all the way for the first time since they were so rudely interrupted before.

Original request: The reader has a nature quirk and was training with Recovery Girl. Shoto fell in love with the reader when she was helping him with his injuries, he doesn't know that reader also likes him too. The girls in 1-A caught how the two would always share a loving gaze at each other and decided to make both of them confess.That's all I could describe and you can add anything you like, also you can add a smut in the story if you can.The reader is quite shy about her chest area because it's too big( like Momo's), but Shoto loves to rest his head on it like a pillow.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut

Part 1

Wordlessly, Shouto intertwined his arm with yours. You frowned as he assumed the usual position and rested his head against your bust. When you first started dating, you’d complain when he’d unannouncedly do so even in the privacy of your dorm, but you had quickly grown used to him getting his way in that regards regardless of how the others teased you about it. However, he didn’t seem at peace this time as he remained tight and rigid against you, all his concentration on keeping an even breath the way you taught him. 

“Shouto, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, just sleepy,” he answered with a yawn, but you suspected it was more than that. He would never admit that his dreams had been bothering him ever since the scare about his father’s defeat, and it was taking a toll on his health. Though as a healer, you eventually started to notice the signs on your own - the late nights, longer days, the way he threw himself into a routine.

“You know I’m always here for you if something is bothering you…”

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing concerning.”

You kept your disappointment secret as he closed his eyes and rested against you in comfort. Bringing your hand up, you gently combed your fingers through his hair. Kissing the top of his head, you let him sleep this time, hoping it was something little like he said. 

The next morning, you didn't mention that he still was quieter than usual on your walk to school. You really think that talking about it would make him feel better rather than bottling up his feelings, but he hadn’t tried to open up to you. It was the only thing that made you worry about your relationship. He could be more emotionally distant than you realized, and you didn’t want to push him into something uncomfortable since you knew there were some things that were painful for him. You weren’t naïve enough to think that he would tell you everything, but you wish he would so you could figure out how to help. Instead, you felt helpless.

Separating to your designated areas, you ended up studying your general courses in the first aid room. It was a quiet place to do your work when granny was dealing with medical emergencies outside of campus. You heard a knock and placed aside your books to go answer the door. You were surprised to see it was Shouto on the other side.

“Shouto, what are you doing here?”

“It’s lunchtime. You didn’t forget to eat again, did you?” he asked. 

“Oh…well…you see time has been going by so fast…” you answered, earning a sigh from him. 

“I figured as much. I bought this for you,” he said, handing you a carton of his usual strawberry yogurt milk before he made his way to the cot. “Do you mind if I catch up on some sleep in here?”

“Well, actually—” you said but he had already laid down and stilled as he fell victim to exhaustion. You worriedly watched him, wondering how he could reason scolding you to take care of yourself when he wouldn’t do the same. Carefully, you grabbed sheets from the closet and placed them over him, keeping a thinner layer on his left side like he liked. 

You sat at your desk, carefully gazing over him every few minutes to make sure he was okay. About ten minutes in is when the first of his muttering happened, and you quietly stood up to check on him. The sweat was already collecting on his forehead, and the singeing pillowcase was proof enough that his temperature was burning hot. You never felt so scared for him, not since the Sports' Festival. It was unbearable.

“Shouto.” You shook him forcefully in attempts to wake him. Groggily, he opened his eyes, his lips dragging into a scowl as he sat up. “I’m sorry I woke you, but you looked like you were having a bad dream.”

“Ah…it happened again,” he said, wiping the gloss from his skin. He folded his hands in his lap, and you could see that he was lost in thought. A thought he refused to share with you. You sat down next to him, feeling so distant despite being so close, and tenderly you rested your hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” 

“It’s not that important,” he answered, and you swore that you’d be a rich woman each time you heard that from him. “Sorry for interrupting your work.”

“Of course, it’s important. It’s obviously been having a negative effect on you.”

“There’s no need to wind yourself up about it. It’s my problem.”

“You’re my boyfriend. Your problems are my problems,” Shouto sighed, turning away from you. The worst part being he wouldn’t look you in the eye. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Don’t you trust me?” 

“I do.” 

“Then, why?” you asked him with an edge of urgency as you held back your tears. Shouto glanced at you, frowning as he saw you hold back a sniffle. It was the opposite of what he was trying to avoid by not weighing you down with all the issues in his personal life. 

Reaching out, he brushed his thumb under your misty eyes. “I do trust you…I just don’t want to burden you with everything that happens. I don’t usually have a lot of good to talk about when it comes to my family and if you met them right now, it would be a nuisance. What if it’s too much to deal with, and you think it’s not worth the energy to be with me?”

“I wouldn’t think that at all…” you reassured him, draping your hand over his and squeezing warmly. “I love you. I want you to rely on me the same way you do when you’re hurt. If something is bothering you, I want you to be able to share that with me.”

Todoroki blinked at you, closing his mouth as he failed to respond. You looked at him softly, your eyes reflecting with this loving shine that made his heart skip. Your fingers tightened around his hand, but your touch was still so gentle the same as the sweet voice you used to tell him that you loved him. It sounded so lovely to know how you shared that same sentiment that he did. Your feelings had aligned so easily. It wasn’t quite so scary anymore to open up to you.

“…Can you come a bit closer?” Timidly, you agreed and scooted closer. He circled his arms around your waist. Immediately, he cozied up to you like always, dropping his head against your chest.

“Shouto!”

He chuckled. “I like this. Your heart has a nice rhythm. It’s comforting when you hold me like this and stroke my head. I may not talk much, but it helps just being like this with you…Ah…Your beat picked up…” Shouto mentioned, smiling peacefully to himself as he listened to your heartbeat. 

“Well, of course, it did! When you say stuff like that…I…I…” you stammered loudly. Todoroki glanced up at you, watching the shyness grow on your face. He smiled faintly, wondering how he got lucky to be with someone so lovingly adorable. Todoroki shifted up, pulling you closer until you were comfortably seated in his lap. 

“(Name), I want to touch you,” he murmured in your ear and brought his hands up to gently cup your breasts. You gasped as he watched his kneading hands over your shoulder. “I’m sorry. I really hate having to show you such a needy side of myself…”

“There’s no need to apologize…I want to see the different sides of you,” you said, your arousal quickly building as you share a wet kiss. His lips were perfectly smooth and warm against yours. You couldn’t get enough of them. You wished things could be like this always. He pulled away, flushed.

“Stick out your tongue,” he softly demanded, and you readily complied, sliding it out to meet his. They swirled together, his thick tongue glided into your mouth, feeling it with slick heat. He didn’t stop teasing your breasts until the desire to feel your skin against his palms won over, and he started to unzip your nurse uniform and slide it off your shoulders.

His palms brushed over your soft skin, skimming just above the feminine linings of your bra cups. He always lavished you to an embarrassing degree. Though, you were happy to have a boyfriend who liked what you hated so much. You shuddered as he slid his hands inside, his fingers curling around cotton, and he pulled your undergarment down to expose your ample bosom. 

Todoroki flicked your nipples and playfully circled them against the pads of his fingers. He squeezed the lovely (s/t) nubs between his fingers, gently tugging on them until they were stiff little peaks between his fingers. “Your nipples got all puffy fast this time.”

“You always tease my breasts too much that’s why…” you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together. 

“It’s because your breasts are like marshmallows, they keep sucking in my fingers,” he described matter-of-factly. Todoroki cupped and squeezed your flesh again, enjoying how his fingers sunk into your skin as if it were a cushion while you felt a rush of bashfulness. Chuckling, Shouto trailed passionate kisses along your neck and bare shoulder. “You have a very motherly body. It’s really erotic,” he whispered.

“What? Don’t say it like that! Geeze…You’re so embarrassing sometimes…” 

“It’s true.” Carefully, Shouto pushed you onto your back. He hovered above you, unbuttoning his shirt first before moving to undo his belt buckle. “This is what you do to me because you’re so cute.”

You went wide-eyed as he unveiled his risen cock, swollen with the need for your attention, and you realized that you wanted to touch him too. You clasped your hand around him. It was soft but meaty at the same time and readily twitched at your touch. One curious squeeze had his rounded tip oozing precum onto you.

“Ah, it’s coming out,” you said. Shouto held in a heavy moan. His face was flushed a rose shade, and you tested him further by carefully tracing your fingers over spiraled veins. 

He laid down on the side of you, and the two of you faced each other. “You too…” he said, squeezing at your hip and pulling you to a better angle to stroke your cunt. Yearning for more of his rugged fingers, you spread your legs a little wider. You moaned in unison. Your soft whine was drowned out by his deeper moan. 

“Shouto, you’re being too loud,” you giggled. 

“I’m not that loud.”

He huffed lightly, and you don’t think he realized he was actually making heavy groans even as he trembled. You twisted your hands around him. It was sort of slick from his precum and balmy, and you couldn’t stop watching the yielding of his cock in your hand, the foreskin stretching along his shaft with the pull of your palm.

Wanting to touch his muscles, your other hand rested on his chest and lightly stroked his body from his pecs to the bulging muscles of his arm, squeezing the springy muscle every so often. His breath fanned warmly over your face, and you could tell yours was on his as you both panted. “I’m going to cum,” he shortly rasped.

You nodded, holding in a whimper as his fingers twitched inside of your warmth, desperately stroking away as he held back. “W-Wanna do it together?”

“I want to do more than that. I want to feel you around me,” he said, blushing darker. 

“I want that too…” 

The two of you kissed again, stopping your petting to wrap your arms around each other before slowly moving away from one another. Shouto was on top of you. Only hesitating when he saw how vulnerable you looked under him. “Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh,” you said, and he cleared his mind of any remaining nervousness with a deep breath. Slowly, he guided himself inside of you. You squeaked as it stretched delicate layers. 

“Are you in pain?”

“I’m in a little pain,” you admitted, sniffling slightly behind your hands as you hid your fluster. He petted headed your head comfortingly. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled. Gently, he grasped your wrist and cleared a path to kiss your lips. Your eyelashes fluttered lightly before you closed your eyes and melted into his kiss. 

“I’m going to start moving,” he warned as he worked his kisses across your jaw. You sighed as he rolled his hips into you, pulling out then returning with an effortless thrust into gooey warmth. You felt his head stretch you again, your body wrapping around the round tip before sinking straight down on his smooth shaft.

It was strange. You felt like he was still inside you even when he pulled out, like your pussy was conforming more to his cock with each thrust. It left you full and whining with each back-arching pump.

“You’re making a really sensual face right now. I wish you could see how cute you look with my cock inside of you,” Todoroki said, smiling at you as he watched himself disappear inside of your folds again, the curly tufts of red and white hair lining his pelvis meeting with yours as he sunk himself entirely inside of you. You gasped, choking up as his chubby member ravaged you. 

“It keeps rubbing all inside me.” you moaned, grasping onto his shoulders for leverage. “It’s, It’s like it’s all the way through my stomach.”

Todoroki smiled and sloppily kissed your mouth as you ran your fingers along his back. You rolled your hips to meet his, and the rush of fluids squelched around him, earning a grunt as you slid around him like silk glove over his skin. 

“Shouto,” you tenderly mewled, and he held onto you tighter, keeping your body against his fully. Your hands cupped his face gingerly as you rested your cheek against his and softly panted in his ear. “I love you. I love you,” you chanted between light moans. 

He swallowed thickly. He could burst with emotion from that exact same feeling. Your touch was so gentle, your smell light and flowery, and your eyes always tender and caring when you looked at him. You were all too perfect. “I love you too,” he returned in a whisper. “ I really love you ,” he thought. 

With a hard thrust, he flooded inside of you with a throaty groan, continuing to pump, milking himself inside you until he couldn’t anymore. “It’s really hot,” you quietly mentioned, once again marveling at how wonderfully full he had left you. 

Todoroki laid down beside you, gently trailing his fingers across your rising and falling chest before sliding his hand to rest on your stomach. “(Name)…is your body okay?”

“A bit tingly and it aches a little…but in a good way. I’m really happy,” you admitted with a smile, placing a hand over your chest to feel your own rhythm. “My heart won’t stop beating.”

Todoroki smiled. “Can I hear?”

“Yes, but—” you answered, but you wanted to be able to get covered up first rather than have him place his head against your bare chest. 

“It is loud,” he said happily. “I’m glad.”

“You are?”

“It’s soothing. It reminds me that you’re here with me. I don’t want to lose anyone else.” 

“Is that what’s been troubling you? Because of your dad’s fight? Everything’s worked out. It’s okay now.”

“I know that. It’s still fresh, that’s all,” he explained. 

You hugged him, making him into your little spoon. You caressed his body. “I’ll always be here.” When you felt him relax against you, you had to admit it wasn’t so embarrassing anymore to have him rest on your chest. 

Shouto sighed softly and cuddled you. “Can you write me a sick note? I want to stay like this a little longer.”

“All right, but it’s your fault if we get in trouble.”

Todoroki smiled. “It’d be worth it.”