#improve baby weight

[rahulvermatech]

Guide to Baby Massage with Virgin Coconut Oil: Benefits and Techniques

Benefits of using virgin coconut oil for baby massage, how it can help with weight gain, and my personal experience with using it on baby. Some tips on how to use it effectively and safely.

[spindle-and-nima]

Have you ever seen those comparisons of two plushies, one kept brand new and safe and one well loved for a whole childhood? Spindle kinda looks like the well loved ones sometimes

Honestly he's really just built like that but I argue he was way more skrunkly as a kid. like here's a baby pic of him at 4 months old when I had just gotten him.

He definitely is well loved! Hes just stuck looking like a toddler decided to get some kid scissors and give him the barber special

[raksh-writes]

Welp, today's the day I finally stepped on a scale after, like, I dunno, years probably? Aaaanndd well... that was a number I haven’t seen there before xd Which is both good and bad.

Bad because I gained a few kgs since the last time and apparently went over the healthy bmi and body fat amount (not by a lot, but like around 1,5 each), if the online calculators are to be believed, but it's also good in the sense this might finally give me enough motivation to kick myself in the ass and start moving goddammit.

I've already been trying to do some light exercises a couple times a week but maybe this will help me up the ante + I have, for the first time in my life, decided to try and count my calories intake. Which is... weird, lmao, but also interesting? I haven’t been eating a lot, tbh, and pretty much no sweets or snacking, I kinda grew out of it? So I guess most of my added weight comes from lack of exercise and maaaybe hormone changes. Ive been on and off the pill several times during the last year-two, currently off for a couple of months, so I think that could’ve thrown my body into alarm mode of gathering fat "just in case".

With the calories intake counting, Im mainly curious to see how much I get in the day when I eat as I normally do and if there's a reason for the weight gain somewhere in there. Like today Im already after dinner and I'll probably only make myself a light supper and won’t even meet the amount the app Im using calculated for me to lose the weight I want (5 kg for now to get back to the healthy bmi scale), so that's very interesting and Im wondering if maybe Im eating less on some days but more on others and that's also making my body "put away" the extra? I don’t actually know how all of this works, so Im just making guesses right now.

And the exercise part, ooof. It didn’t use to be so hard, goodness grace, Im Really out of shape. Tho, I guess the added kgs are impacting me too. Im starting slow, mostly stretching + some squats, some shorter video exercises, the kind. I know it'd probably help to make a regime, but that's only gonna make me miserable, so for now Im setting myself a goal of just Doing Something everyday and whenever I feel stronger, I'll just do more on the day. Otherwise the pressure I put on myself might kill any fun or motivation Id have.

This is pretty much just my personal rambling, which I might turn into a bit of a diary to help myself keep track and all (its weirdly easier to just type up a tumblr post than open up a notebook and write it down? Huh...), so like if anyone got through this whole post, damn, thank you, I guess, hah. If you have any tips, I'd be glad to read them! ^^

Let's see how long this bout of motivation lasts me 😂🙈

[bamgeut]

yeonjun 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[spingu]

bit of a struggle but managed an upper body session

[fuzzyballblog]

I'm Fuzzy (32)

It's getting harder to be consistent. But I'm staying social! And I'm spending my money wisely. Just actually got a new toaster! I'm maintaining, but idk tbh.

Maybe after my period I'll leap the hurdle! God knows dripping blood should count to lose some weight lmao.

I did smoke last night, to help with the period cramps, but that was after I bought a whole duffel bag of yarn for 20$!! Crocheting is for sure, a newfound passion of mine but, I can't wait to be done this blanket, and to start knitting baby clothes.

I'm not pregnant or anything! Just, to have ready, when I need them I guess. Or maybe some plushies, who knows. I hope y'all have a good day too though 💕

🐄 0 hours drawing 🐄 312.4lbs (-10.6) 🐄 180$ (-20$) Saved 🐄 0 Days Sober 🐄 April 19th 2024

[noor678]

Hello stop please help us

I am Nour, a Palestinian girl from Gaza. I am 5 years old. We were displaced from our home after the occupation bombed. We were displaced to southern Gaza. I, my father, my mother, and my grandmother, who also lives with us.

I saw the ravages of death on the way to the south, where I had to walk long distances on my feet .....

After arriving in southern Gaza, we saw all forms of suffering. After living in a tent for 8 months, we do not have any necessities for life. My sisters and I suffer from illness and weight loss due to malnutrition and lack of it. There is no source of livelihood for my father, who lost his job there in Gaza.

We need your help and support to provide a better life for me and my family🍉🍉

Please share and donate to improve the future of our children

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Please stop, please help us before it's too late. We were bombed two days ago in the tents of the displaced in Mawasi Khan Yunis, which led to the burning of our tent. We are now homeless and fled to a place farther from the bombing. Every day we are exposed to bombing from warplanes that have not stopped, and we flee from place to place. Please help us with your donations so that we can leave when the crossing is opened for us.

@apol @appsa @buttercuparry @malcriada @palestinegenocide @akajustmerry @sar-soor @akajustmerry @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @feluka @tortiefrancis @sayruq @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @palestinegenocide @ear-motif @communistcinema @belleandsaintsebastian @kordeliiius @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @northgazaupdates2 @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi27

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: postpartum depression, 18+ brief sexual content

"Okay, Ry ry, come on. Work with me. You're alright, baby, it's okay."

You're pacing back and forth across the living room in only a nursing bra and Simon's favorite pair of your shorts, the ones that barely cover the soft pleat where the tops of your thighs meet your cheeks. The coverage of your ass is just barely there, crescent moons creased in invitation for his tongue- willing him, tempting him to lick long lines from outside to inside until you’re spread wide over his face.

Now is not the time, however.

He watches you carefully, analyzing, cataloging, categorizing. Looking for a sign, a symptom, a warning that you might not be feeling as good as you let on. Tough little kitten. Stronger than you think.

The doctor told you to get better rest, eat more nutritionally dense foods, and hydrate. If the dizziness and fainting doesn’t improve, you’ll have to see a specialist.

He’s been breathing through his nose a lot, since you told him. Willing his heart rate to slow, urging himself to be calm.

Still-

His nightmares are no longer made up of his past, but his future. Sequences of you, unconscious on the floor, baby screaming in his crib. Simon nowhere to be found, hundreds of miles away with his finger on a trigger.

You slump in defeat. Orion screams at the top of his lungs, angry at what, you’re not sure. He's tried not to hover, opting to cook dinner instead, but when your voice cracks on your next plea for Orion to stop crying, he breaks away from the kitchen and settles behind you, firm hand rubbing circles into your hip. "Let's give you a break, mama."

You sniffle. "I don't know what's up with him tonight. He won't latch, but he has to be hungry. I don't know what to do." Simon slides a forearm under yours, supporting the baby’s weight, the other one palming your belly. Your head tips back against his chest, heat radiating from your body like a furnace, and he sways you side to side, careful and slow, rocking the two of you in a gentle rhythm. You're both overheated, and you've long stripped Ry down to a diaper, hoping it would alleviate some of his misery.

"Let me take over. You're exhausted." He kisses your neck, using the light shiver shuddering over your skin to his advantage. His touch gentles you, reins in the stubborn streak that keeps surfacing, and he carries no weight of regret when he twists you up with it a little bit. He’s been standing at the bottom of the well, waiting to catch you when you break. "Go get in the shower, and I'll try a bottle in a bit. See if I can't get him calmed down." He presses his lips to your shoulder.

"But... dinner..."

"It can wait. Go on." He lifts Orion, sitting him upright on his chest, and then gives you a gentle swat on your ass.

It doesn't take much convincing after that.

He tries to get Orion to take the plastic nipple of the bottle, tries rubbing on his cheek to trigger the rooting reflex, like you've taught him, to no avail. "Alright, little man. Let's give it a try, c'mon." He doesn't, but the vibration in Simon's chest when he speaks seems to distract him momentarily, enough that his crying stops for a split second, before returning to its high pitched wail. It’s a shocking sentiment. A startling discovery, one that burrows deep, slides under his skin, slicing him open. Could his son really be soothed by his own voice?

“I wasn’t there when you were born.” He smoothes a hand over the top of Orion’s head. “I didn’t know about you, but that’s not mama’s fault, daddy kind of… disappeared, and she didn’t deserve that. I should’ve been there. I know it was probably scary, for both of you.” The wailing and shrieking turns into a mewl. “I’m gonna make it up to you, and her, everyday, I swear. ‘m gonna keep you safe, you and mama, watch you grow, go to school, lose your first tooth. I’m gonna be there for your birthday parties and holidays, as much as I can.” Orion stares at him with wet, tearful eyes, cries turned to quiet whimpers. “Daddy doesn’t have a… normal job, but we’ll make it work, won’t we? You’ll see. I’ll always be here for you, bub.” The broken cries and whimpers almost stop all together, and Simon’s heart glows with pride. He did that. “That’s better, huh? Let’s go see if we can get you to eat something before bed, alright?” He keeps up a steady murmur, pushing open the door to your room, expecting to see- hoping, to see you just out of the shower, but instead-

he finds you in an oversized t shirt and panties, curled up on top of your blankets in bed. A wet towel sits crumpled on the floor, a pair of pajama pants lying on the bed frame by your feet. It looks like you did plan on making it out of the bedroom, but succumbed to your exhaustion instead, and he doesn’t blame you. Today was hard.

“Sweetheart.” He rubs your shoulder, mattress dipping with his weight. Your eyes open, bleary and confused, a question etched across your brow. “Hey, you fell asleep.” You nod, still not with it, lashes fluttering.

“‘m sorry. Baby?”

“He’s right here. Got him calmed down, think he’s ready to eat though.” You yawn, pawing at your shirt, trying to tug it up over your head, eyes closed again. “Alright, I’ve got it, here-“

“Did I miss dinner?”

“No honey. I put it in the oven to keep warm. When you’re ready I’ll bring a plate in f’you, alright?” You sigh, sleep drenched like your lungs are wet, ponderosity sunken in across your body. He thumbs your temple, trying to rouse you a bit more, urging you to roll onto your side, tucking Orion in next to your breast. It must be instinct, the way he finds you in the dark, and you breathe deep once he settles.

“Sorry I fell asleep.”

“You’re exhausted, mama.” Ry makes a little ‘k-ahh’ sound, like a soft puff of air, and you tug at your shirt half heartedly, trying to shuck it upward again. “Do you want this off?” He fingers the hem, and you nod, lifting an arm as he maneuvers around you and the baby.

Bloody hell. You’re a sight, only in your underwear, Orion at your chest. The hall light dips and drags over your body, painting you in yellows and shadow, broad brushstrokes of a goddess splayed out in front of him, feeding his baby.

He can’t tear his eyes away.

“What is it?” You croak, his fingers tracing the valley of your hip and stomach in an answer.

“You’re stunning.” He cradles the back of Ry’s head, leaning close, brushing his nose against yours before kissing you slow, letting it linger, losing himself in the moment.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” You hum into his mouth, still dewy from the shower, fresh spring rain falling from your lips. You’re more awake now, unhurried and sweet, and he slips to his knees at the edge of the bed, smoothing his hand over your shoulder and down your waist. The rolling meadow of goosebumps chasing his fingertips heats his blood-

Until your stomach rumbles. He chuckles. “Hungry?”

“A little.” You cup the back of Ry’s head and nod sheepishly.

“Okay.” He kisses you again because he can’t help it, can’t stop himself or hold back, the physical ache of being so close, yet so far away drives him to touch you, feel you, as much as he can. Before he’s gone. “Sit tight. I’ll get your dinner.”

Later, after he’s fed you (by hand, lifting a fork to your lips over and over as you sat like a perfect little kitten, propped up on a pile of pillows) while Ry nursed, and then put him down, cleaned up the dishes, and placed the baby monitor in its usual spot, he leans over you in bed, where you’re nestled under the blankets, sleepy and sweet. “Hey sleepy girl.”

“Hi.” You whisper, snuggling farther into the covers. “He go down okay?”

“Like a champ. Think he tired himself out with all the yelling earlier.” He presses a thumb to your bottom lip, sliding it back and forth before cupping your cheek. “Get some rest, I’ll get him when he gets up in a few hours.” He jerks his head towards the living room, where he usually takes his post before heading back, a block over, and then anxiously tosses and turns in bed until he hears from you in the morning.

He shifts closer to press his lips to your forehead, but you grab his wrist, grip tight, and there’s a hitch in your breath, a reedy, fragile thing that strikes his heart with bullets. “It’s supposed to get easier.” A tear tracks down your cheek, and he wipes it with his thumb.

“Oh sweetheart, it will. I promise it will.” He tries to soothe you, taking the hand that’s cemented to his wrist and interlacing his fingers with yours. “Postpartum is hard. You have to give yourself a break.”

“I know, it’s just… sometimes I feel like someone else should have been his mum,” your voice breaks, his stomach pitches, heart pounding in his ears. He could drown in the guilt, slip beneath the swell and fill his lungs with it, sink to the bottom with its weight. “Like he was meant for someone else, like someone else would be better. I was so sick when I was pregnant, and when he was born it was… traumatic…” you trail off, desperate, glassy look falling over your eyes before you close them, hand shaking in Simon’s grasp. He wants to wipe it all away, wipe it clean and fix it, patch the gaping wound he left. “Sometimes all he does is look at me and scream, like I’m a stranger. Like he doesn’t… love me, know me. Why aren’t I good at this?” Your chest is stuttering now, short breaths being choked off with sobs, and pulls you into his chest.

“You are good at this, mama.” He kisses your temple. “It doesn’t feel like it, because your head is a little… messed up with all the hormones and changes, but our son is healthy, and happy. He’s safe. You did that. You took care of him all on your own.” You’re still crying, tears spilling over your cheeks, and Simon cradles your face. “I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t here sweet girl. I’ll never forgive myself.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is. I’m the one who left you like a… like a ghost. I’m the one who didn’t care about the consequences and left you to face it on your own. You didn’t deserve that, and I don’t deserve you or that boy… but I’m going to try to do everything I can to make it up to you. I’m here, okay? You’re not doing this alone anymore. I’m here.” And you’re never getting rid of me. He doesn’t say it, not willing to disrupt the clearly fragile equilibrium of your emotions, but he feels it all the same. “Orion was meant to be yours, ours. No one else’s. You understand?” You nod, lower lip trembling. “Tell me, mama. Tell me you know our baby loves you like you hung the moon in the sky.”

“I- I know.”

“Come here.” He keeps you in his arms, settling back on your mountain of pillows, keeping a palm at the back of your head, other one rubbing up and down your spine. “That’s what you are. The moon. You and Orion, moon and stars. My moon and stars.” You manage a watery sigh, and then burrow your face into his chest, finally calm enough to take some long breaths, seconds turning to minutes as he holds you in the dark.

“Stay.” You whisper against him, nearly asleep again, and he answers with a kiss to the top of your head.

“I will. I promise.”

[firewasabeast]

The Fight

Tommy calmed himself before he walked into the station. Closed his eyes and did the breathing technique he'd learned in therapy years ago.

They needed to talk about this. He couldn't handle it if something happened during Buck's shift and the last words they had spoken to each other were in anger.

He spotted Buck fairly quickly. He was in the middle of a workout, sitting on a bench and lifting weights. Although it looked like he was mostly talking to Eddie.

Eddie, who was standing in front of him, nodding his head as Buck spoke.

Eddie eyed Tommy first. “Buck,” he said in the middle of Buck's rant.

“-and I- I don't think that's fair, Eddie. It's not fair of him to- to treat me like I'm a child-”

“Buck,” Eddie repeated, louder this time.

Buck groaned. “What?”

Eddie pointed behind him. “Tommy.”

Buck froze, then slowly turned to see Tommy standing behind him, staring at him. After a brief glance, Buck cast his eyes downward.

“Hey, man,” Eddie greeted. Buck rolled his eyes.

“Hey, Eddie,” Tommy replied. “Mind if I talk to Evan for a second?”

“Nope. I'll be upstairs.”

Tommy watched as Eddie headed upstairs, waiting until he was out of earshot to turn back to Buck. “What are you doing here, Evan?” he asked.

Buck placed the weights he had resting on his thighs down on the ground. “Working.”

“Your shift doesn't even start for another twelve hours.”

Buck got up and began placing weight plates on the barbell. “I asked Bobby if I could do a twenty-four instead. He said yes.”

“You literally told me two days ago that they weren't allowing overtime right now.”

“Did you really come all the way here to keep fighting with me?”

“First of all, I'm not the one who started the fight,” Tommy said, stepping closer, “and I'm not the one who can't look their boyfriend in the eyes.”

Buck stopped messing with the barbell and glared up at Tommy. His eyes were red, although Tommy couldn't tell if it was from crying or rage. “Better?” he asked bitingly.

“Yeah, actually, it is. It's a great improvement from you walking out on me this morning.”

Buck crossed his arms defensively. “There wasn't anything left to say.”

“I strongly disagree. We've both talked about this before, Evan. How you don't like the feeling of people walking out on you. How it scares you, makes you worry. Did you forget I told you the same thing? How it reminds me of what my dad did to my mom and me over and over again?”

Tommy swore he could see a twinge of guilt flash through Buck's eyes, but it was quickly replaced with more anger.

He moved closer to Tommy. “I wasn't going to sit at your place and be berated for however long you decided to yell at me-”

“I was not yelling.”

“-for doing my job.”

Now it was Tommy's turn to fill with a new wave of rage. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it back, pursing his lips as he thought over his words. “You were not doing your job, Evan,” Tommy spoke slowly, carefully. “You made a bad decision that could have gotten you killed.”

Buck scoffed. “Danger is part of the job, Tommy. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Tommy felt like pulling his hair out. They'd had this whole argument a few hours earlier. No matter what he said, he couldn't seem to get through to Buck. “You ran into a burning building without your gear, Evan! There were other firefighters there, but you just ran in! You could have died!”

“But I didn't! God, Tommy, you're acting like I'm a baby! I've been doing this for years; I know what I'm capable of!”

Tommy brought a hand to his forehead, pressing against his temple. This was pointless. “I don't even know why I came here,” he said with a shrug. He gave Buck one last glance before turning to leave.

“Still don't know why you're angry at me for saving someone's life!” Buck called out to him as he headed for the door.

The words made Tommy turn on his heels. “You really don't know why I'm angry with you?!” he asked. The question came out harsher than he intended.

Buck stood his ground. “No, I don't!”

“Unbelievable!” Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Because I love you, Evan!” he exclaimed. “I love you so damn much! So, yeah, it makes me a little angry when I see that you aren't in this as much as I am. That you don't love yourself enough to care if you come back home!”

Buck felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. It took him a second to find his voice again. “You... You love me?”

“Of course I do, Evan.” Tommy spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Have for quite a while now.”

Buck moved closer to him. “You don't think I- I'm in it as much as you?”

Tommy let out a deep breath. “I didn't mean it like that,” he said, his voice calmer now. “I just meant... I always try my damndest to make it back to you, every shift. Every call I go on, you're in the front of my mind. Be safe for Evan, stay focused for Evan, make it home because Evan will be there waiting. And I don't expect you to love me back or anything like that, but it would be nice to know that you try to make it home to me too.”

“I do,” Buck replied earnestly. “I do try, Tommy. I- I, when I was on that call, I ran back in because of you.”

Any anger left in Tommy's body was replaced with confusion. “What?”

“The guy I went in for, his- his boyfriend was yelling for him. He was panicked, like he- he would go insane if something had happened to him. All I could think about was you. How I'd go crazy if you were in a burning building and I- I couldn't get to you. I couldn't think of doing this life without you, Tommy. So, I ran in. And, I mean, you can ask Bobby, I'm not careless like that anymore, not like I used to be. And I do love you, Tommy. I love you so much it scares me. I promise I'm in this with yo-”

Before Buck could even process it, Tommy had cleared the space between them. He brought his hands to Buck's face pulled him in for a kiss.

Buck couldn't help the surprised moan that escaped him as Tommy pressed himself even closer. Buck grabbed onto Tommy's shirt, tugging on it like he was desperate for more.

It wasn't until tongues got involved that there was the sound of a throat being cleared behind them.

They stopped, both breathing heavily, then turned back to see the rest of the team watching them from upstairs.

“I knew you two lovebirds would work it out," Eddie said with a smirk on his face.

Chimney sniffed, earning him looks from the others. “I'm a sucker for romance,” he explained.

“I tried to get them to back off,” Hen defended. “I mean, not very hard, but I did try.”

Bobby simply smiled down at them. “Buck, your shift doesn't start until tonight. Go home.”

And well, they weren't gonna argue with that.

[lightsoutletsgo]

girl dad — mv.1

pairing: dad!max verstappen x mom!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, obvs mentions of babies and kids, fluff, the briefest flash of angst and nostalgia hi loves! so this is the result of the absolute brainrot me and @verstappen-cult got stuck in yesterday discussing how max is such a girl dad. I actually really like this one so I hope you like it too! as always please leave any feedback, I always love reading the tags to find out how I can improve my work and what you want to see more of! happy reading! mimi 🤍

Max groaned softly as a heavy weight suddenly landed on his chest. He opened his eyes and saw a perfect reflection of them staring back at him. He couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as his arms wrapped around his daughter and he cuddled her close to him, “Good morning little flower,” his voice was gentle and low so as to not wake you up, “did you have exciting dreams last night?” His hand smoothed over Esmee’s hair as she nodded, arm wrapping round her soft plush bunny even tighter as she curled up on his chest. “Well I’m glad to hear that…” They were both still and silent for a moment and Max thought she may have even drifted back off, until she popped up, sitting on his tummy, her hand bringing her bunny’s ear up to her face to gently rub it across her cheek in a soothing motion. Max’s heart clenched as he stared at his baby girl, where was the time going? Just yesterday it seemed like she was still a tiny newborn that he cradled so carefully yet awkwardly. 

“Mama sleep?” The two year old pointed to you lying next to him, your head resting against his shoulder as your chest rose and fell steadily. Max nodded and over exaggerated placing a finger to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion. The toddler giggled, a sweet sound that made Max smile. Max looked at the clock that sat on his bedside table and noticed how early it was and how dark it still was outside, “It’s so early flower! The sun is still sleeping.” Esmee pouted in that sweet funny way only toddlers can and pointed to her tummy, “Hungry papa!” Max made a noise of understanding and scooped her up in his arms, standing and silently padding across the room to leave you sleep. He carried her through the hallways of your family home in Monaco and he relished in the way Esmee snuggled into his neck, finding comfort and warmth in the way he felt each of her short little breaths against his neck. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and slowed his pace down a little, enjoying the time he had. It was quiet, barely five in the morning, the sun only just beginning to creep up in the sky. The traffic was still light outside, just the hiss of the garbage truck and the occasional siren in the distance. He softly strolled down the hallway, hand rubbing and down Esmee’s back in the way he’d done ever since the first time he held her.

As he got to the kitchen, he placed Esmee down in her chair, not a baby high chair anymore but taller than the rest of your chairs to accommodate her short body. She let out a whine at losing his body heat and attention and he turned back to see her holding her arms out to him, begging to be picked back up. ‘Like mother like daughter’ Max thought, knowing full well he was unable to say no to either of you. He picked her up and placed her over one arm, tickling her tummy with his free hand when her gleeful giggle sounded around the room knowing she’d gotten her own way. Max knew that anyone who looked at him for just a few seconds would see that he was completely wrapped around his daughter’s tiny finger. Just as Mama and Papa were her whole world, she was theirs. 

“What should we have for breakfast Es hm?” Max opened the fridge and looked at the contents, thinking what he could make for all of you, “should we make some for Mama too?” Esmee nodded, excited as Max mentions you. “Panpan papa!” Max laughed as she did her best to say the word ‘pancake’, “Okay then flower, pancakes it is!” Max had watched you make them so many times he was pretty confident in the recipe, knowing it would be in your recipe book on the island if he really needed guidance. Esmee clapped her hands and Max sat her on the counter next to where he was standing, “You want to help?” She nodded and a serious expression took over her face, Max smiled and kissed her forehead before he gathered the ingredients he needed from various cupboards and the fridge. “Okay then flower, let’s do this!” Max pulled the measuring cups from the drawer in front of him and held the correct one out to Esmee. She took it, her pudgy little legs kicking in excitement as her face lit up in glee. Max held out the bag of flour and wrapped his hand around hers to help her dig the right amount out of the bag. He let her tip it into the bowl on her own, her tongue poking out in concentration. Once she was finished, she beamed up at him and he gave a cheer, encouraging her for her efforts, “Good job flower!” She practically bounced on the counter, excited to be making pancakes with her Papa and for a moment Max almost wished you were awake to take a picture of this moment, so that even when he was old and his memory started fading, he would still be able to remember.

He pulled himself back to the present, not wanting to miss looking at her for a second. He was unable to help the way yet another fond smile creeps across his face as he watched  her gasp as she spilt some of the sugar on the counter top but he was quick to reassure her, “It’s okay flower! Mess is okay sometimes.” Her worried expression fell and she was back to staring at the bowl intently as she added the next ingredient. Max handed Esmee an egg, “You’ve done this bit with Mama before, haven’t you flower?” Esmee nodded but still looked at him and held the egg back out to him, “Papa help please?” He leaned down to rub his nose against hers and she giggled trying to push his face away, “Papa tickles!” Max relented and placed his hands over hers to gently tap the egg against the counter and add it to the bowl. He disposed of the shell before helping Esmee lift the milk carton to tip it into the bowl. When they’d added all the ingredients, Max grabbed a whisk and turns to the toddler, “Should Papa do this part?” Esmee nods, “Papa strong!” “Mhmm, Papa is suuuuper strong!” Esmee shrieked with delight as Max threw her into the air once to prove his point before placing her back down, hand ruffling her hair before he began to mix the ingredients together.

Esmee grabbed her bunny and Max gave a fond smile, remembering how it was one of the first things you’d picked out together when you were expecting her. Max allowed himself to reminisce as he remembered how he had been so desperate to have a son, he’d been so sure Esmee would be a boy. He had even told you that he hoped it wasn’t a girl, a point you hadn’t taken too kindly to and had quickly shut down. Max could still remember the conversation like it was yesterday… “Max you cannot be serious.” Your hands were planted firmly on your hips as you shot a cold glare at him and he cowered ever so slightly, “Schat I just meant that-” “No no, Max. I understood what you meant perfectly.” Max was silent, knowing he had no defence against you, “You want a boy to carry on the Verstappen name? You think a daughter can’t go into Formula One? You think a daughter won’t do great things and make you proud just because she’s a woman? What about me? Do you think less of me because I’m a woman?” Max sighed as your ranting stopped. 

“I’m worried about what the world of F1 would do to her…” You pulled back, having never heard him speak so quietly or softly before, he sank down onto the couch, “You know how horrible it can be…” You nodded understandingly, “I do, yes…” “Then you know what kind of things she will have to face.” You took a seat next to him and rubbed his back soothingly, “But she will have you to have her back and protect her from as much of it as you can…” You did your best to calm his mind and he took a deep breath, “I know schat… but also… I don’t know how to be a girl dad! I don’t know how to do hair or how to play with barbies or how to teach her about…” his voice quietened, “periods…” You couldn’t help the way a laugh left you and Max whined at you, “Stop laughing! I’m serious!” 

You planted a kiss against his cheek and sat back against the couch, inviting him to lay his head in your lap near your tummy, something that had become your new routine every evening. Max plopped down and your hand immediately started playing with his hair as he rested one hand on your bump. “I know it’s scary… but you have plenty of time to learn as you go! You’re bound to make mistakes love, we both are… she’ll teach you how she wants to play with you and hey, maybe she’ll be into cars more than barbies!” Max kissed your bump and smiled, “And I think you should probably leave the period talk to me…” He laughed heartily and nodded before turning to your bump once more,  “Hi baby… It’s me… your Papa… W-we don’t know what you are yet,” He looked up at you and you nodded at him reassuringly, “but whether you turn out to be a boy or girl we’ll love you so so much. We already love you so much.” You hand continued through his hair as his eyes closed, “You’re going to love being a girl dad…” One eye cracked open as he stared at you, “You sound sure it’s a girl?” “Call it pregnant woman intuition…” 

“Mama!” A call of your name and Esmee’s hand patting his arm pulled him from his memories and he turned to see you watching in the doorway, the most peaceful and loving expression on your face, you crossed the kitchen having been caught and swept your toddler up in your arms, blowing raspberries on her tummy and feeling your heart squeeze at her little giggles, “Good morning flower!” You sat her up in your arms and her little hands held your face as she gave you a sloppy kiss on the cheek, you laughed and walked back to the counter, gently placing her back down, “What are you doing with Papa hmm?” Esmee pointed at the bowl with wide eyes, “Panpan Mama!” You gasped and widened your own eyes, mimicking her excitement, “You’re making pancakes? Mama’s favourite?” Esmee nodded and her little legs started kicking again. You turned to Max and placed your chin on his shoulder, “Good morning handsome.” he turned his head to kiss your forehead, “Good morning schat.” He put the whisk down and turned to pull you into his arms, “What time did she wake up?” You pulled away from him and headed to the fridge to get some milk for her sippy cup, “Around five…” Max winced and you smiled, “Sorry I stayed asleep,” Max waved your apology away, “Don’t apologise, you need the sleep schatje.” 

His eyes fell to the slight swell of your stomach and thanked every star above that he was lucky enough to have a beautiful wife, a sweet toddler and one more on the way. You bustled around the kitchen, tidying here and there as Max started cooking breakfast. You crossed back to Esmee to give her her sippy cup and she patted your tummy gently as you stood in front of her, “A’morning baby!” You felt a small flutter in your tummy and you booped her nose, “Baby says ‘good morning Esmee!’”

Max felt a huge smile fill his face as he took in the interaction next to him, he turned to you, crossing his arms as he waited for the next pancake to cook before he flipped it over, “You know… I really won’t mind if this one is a girl too…” You looked at him from where you stood and raised one eyebrow with a smirk, “Oh no?” Max let out a breath of laughter, flippin the pancake in the pan, “Yeah yeah, go ahead and laugh…” You shook your head, “Told you you’d love being a girl dad…” Max tipped the cooked pancake on the plate, turned the stove off and crossed the kitchen to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder so he could watch Esmee tucking into her pancakes with all the vigour a hungry two year old could muster, his voice was quiet, “And what’s your pregnant woman's intuition saying about this one then hmm?” he kissed your neck softly and your head tipped back with a happy hum, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you are destined to be a girl dad…” He laughed and kissed your neck once more.

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And five months later when Anneleise is born, Max stares at her in awe with tears in his eyes as this tiny precious bundle is carefully placed into his arms, “Hi baby girl, I’m your Papa…” Her only response is a big yawn for such a small person and an even bigger stretch as she nestles into his chest, recognising his voice. He isn’t sure why you’re suddenly chuckling to yourself but when he looks up, you’ve got tears in your own eyes as you film him sitting in the hospital chair doing skin to skin with your new daughter. It’s only then that he realises he’s crying. He can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed, instead, looking back down at Anneleise and softly tracing her tiny features. You watch on and smile, noting how he’s much more assured in how he holds this baby, how he talks to her and you know that just like when Esmee was born, he is instantly wrapped around her finger. You know that just like the promises he made about protecting Esmee and always being there for her, ring true for this daughter as well. You know you’re looking at a man who will attend tea parties, drive his girls to the karting track and to ballet lessons, will do his best to braid their hair, will sing disney songs in the car and paint their nails to the best of his abilities. You know that when your girls get older he will buy them ice cream after a breakup, teach them how to drive, help them revise for exams, support them in their dreams and cry when he watches them get married. Because forever and always, Max is a girl dad.  And later on when Max watches the video you had filmed earlier - and every time after that -  he hears your voice, making him smile,

“Max Verstappen, you are such a girl dad.”

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[alastors-wife]

Dysphoria is such a painful and life-consuming thing but personally? I feel like it also makes the positives of transitioning stand out that much more.

I love being able to hear my own voice and see myself in the mirror and see that I'm slowly starting to become the person I actually am and have always wanted to be.

[yopossum]

JOEL SAT ON ME AND I CONSIDERED IT AN HONOR AND A PRIVILEGE

My contribution for @beefrobeefcal’s Married Joel Sits On You challenge is complete!!

Main Masterlist

Married!Joel x wife reader - M - 18+ only, weight gain talk and appreciation, drunkenness, Joel is a big ol love bug who wants to squish his perfect wife (you)

Snug

You were curled up in your old green tufted armchair, had just finished a chapter of your book, and were debating making another cup of tea when the tell-tale squeak of the front steps accompanied by heavy footsteps and drunken muttering alerted you to your husband’s return.

“Mmm, gotta… fix… ‘s not safe… gonna… gonna get hurt… not my baby…. Ah shit… where’s my…. ‘S still unlocked?”

With an aggressive jiggle of the knob, Joel came crashing into the house, stumbling over the toes of his boots and looking up bashfully.

“Hey handsome,” you smirked. “Have fun with Tommy?”

“Not ‘s much fun as I have with my beautiful wife,” he slurred, pointing a wobbling finger your direction. “Thas you, baby.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Joel,” you laughed. “You two had a bit to drink, it sounds like.” You set your book down on the coffee table alongside your empty mug and stretched your arms up to the ceiling, yawning.

“Jus’ a few, darlin’. Missed you too much, had to come home t’ ya. Need t’ see you. Alllllllll the time. Thas how much I wanna look atcha.” The booze stretched his twang out, slowed his speech, words sloshing and swinging from his lazy tongue like it was a porch rocker on a hot summer day. It wasn’t often Joel let himself relax, and it was a treat when he got loose like this.

God, you adored him.

“You hungry, babe?” you asked your bumbling hunk. “I left you a plate in the microwave in case all you two had was whiskey and peanuts.”

Joel groaned appreciatively. “Fuuuck, honey. How d’ya always know jus’ what I need? What’d I ever do t’ deserve you, hm? Funny, so damn smart, so kind, you’re gorgeous. Smell good. Perfect fuckin’ pussy…”

“Go get your dinner, Romeo,” you cut him off with a snort. With an over-the-top wink, Joel sauntered into the kitchen. You watched him go with a grin, admiring (honestly, ogling) the delicious way his jeans hugged him and the flex of his broad back under the snug green plaid shirt he favored.

A few years in, and marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed over all a happier person. The only drawback, to him, seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. Regular meals, fewer hours out at the job site, more time spent enjoying life’s small pleasures. Add in plain old aging, and some body changes were inevitable. God knows you’d had plenty of them yourself.

You knew Joel was a little sensitive about his pants fitting a bit tighter, the buttons of his ancient flannels straining slightly more than they used to over the swell of his belly. But where these changes made Joel frown at his reflection when he caught himself in the mirror before a shower, or sigh when he had to punch a new hole in his single belt, they had no negative effect on you whatsoever.

To your husband’s surprise, you were ravenous for his softening body. Your hands often found their way to his pockets to palm his plump ass through the denim, to the hem of his shirt to stroke the round warm underside of his stomach, to pat and squeeze his thick thighs. When he came inside you each night (and most mornings) and tried to hover over himself your body to kiss you after finishing, you often yanked him down on top of you, relishing the crushing weight of your husband enveloping your form like the world’s sexiest, most affectionate weighted blanket.

You couldn’t get enough of him, so having more Joel to love? A blessing. And when he loped back into the living room, his plate heaped with the dinner you’d made earlier, wearing a smile wide and dopey, you were happy that the most hardworking, self-sacrificing man you’d ever known entrusted you with his comfort.

He plopped onto the sofa, a little harder than he probably meant to, and sat his plate on the end of the coffee table nearest to you.

“Looks so good, sugar, you’re amazin’. Fuckin’ girl of my dreams. And you *married me*! Wow. Wowwwww.” The tips of Joel’s ears and the rounds of his cheeks were peony pink, his eyes glassy with both drink and adoration. He took a forkful of the pasta and vegetables from his plate and opened his mouth around it with a moan. “Baby, mmmmfff, Jesus,” he mumbled through chews, eyes closing in ecstasy as he ate.

“Sober Joel is going to be mortified when I tell him about Drunk Joel’s table manners,” you snickered. You unfolded your legs and reached a foot towards the couch, poking at him in the side with your pointed toes.

“Naw,” he said with a dramatic shake of his head, swallowing his bite. You couldn’t help but track the way his Adam’s apple slid along his tan, taut throat, and despite his hazy state, he clocked it immediately. “Y’aren’t gonna tell that asshole anythin’. Jus’ our little secret, sweetheart.” He licked his lips, tongue poking into the corner to catch a spot of sauce that lingered in his mustache. “I’ll make it worth your while, promise this Joel knows ‘xactly whatcha like,” he hummed, eyes gleaming and dimple pitting deep in his rosy cheek.

“I’m not gonna fuck you when you’re drunk, Miller, if that’s what you’re getting at.” You cackled when he scowled, sticking out his lower lip in a nearly-irresistible pout.

“But what if I want to real bad, Miller?” he huffed, crossing his arms over his wide chest. “I’ll letcha have your way with me any damn day, honey, please. I’m achin’ for ya.” His eyebrows curled up in a pitiful plea, his big brown sad puppy dog eyes in full force.

You leaned forward in your chair, planting your feet on the ground. “I’ll have my way with you when you’re not plastered, I swear.” Joel dropped his head in disappointment, whining.

“Jus’ love you so much…” he murmured at the floor. “Wanna show you… take such good care ‘a me, make me feel so good… best wife of every wife, give me the best life…”

Your heart was full to burst. “Come here, you big sentimental sap,” you said, sitting back and opening your arms to your pathetically endearing enormous drunken husband.

Rather than walk, Joel slid from the couch cushions to the floor with a thud and proceeded to crawl on his hands and knees across the rug, stopping at your feet and looking up at you sheepishly through long dark lashes.

You gestured to your lap. “Up.”

Joel clambered from the ground, dropping himself solidly into the cradle of your body (eliciting a breathy OOF as he knocked the wind from your lungs) and curling up like a pillbug against your chest. The chair creaked in fruitless protest. You struggled to catch your breath and adjust your legs underneath him, but managed to encourage his head into the crook of your neck so you could nuzzle into his soft silvered curls, press kisses to the lines across his forehead. Your arms didn’t fit all the way around him, but you snuck them in at his waist and ran your thumbs back and forth along the meat of his hips.

Joel burrowed his face into the space above your collarbone, nudging his nose up against your throat and humming softly, pressing a sweet kiss to the dip there. “Thas’ real nice. Love you s‘much,” he buzzed into your warm skin. Your ribs couldn’t quite expand enough to take your regular breaths without effort, and numbness was prickling your thighs and asscheeks, but you made no effort to move.

“‘M not hurtin’ you, honey, am I?” Joel’s quiet voice was already honeying over with the pull of slumber. His breath slowed and evened, inching its way toward soft snores.

“Not at all, sleepyhead,” you assured him, whispering warmly into the smooth shell of his ear, giving it a gentle nibble before laying your cheek against the top of his head. “You’re perfect.”

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Poolside

Husband Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: You and Joel take your first vacation together, all you want to do is read your book... and all your husband wants is your attention... and a seat. Warnings: Fluff, Joel Miller greatest husband award, smut allusions, trashy romance novel, chocolate chip cookies, use of a "Birds Of A Feather" lyric, no use of y/n, not beta read. Words: 900

A/N: This was written for @beefrobeefcal's Married Joel Sits On You Prompt Challenge and woooooo beefy! This was very fun and cute to write.

Masterlist

___

Immelda tells Berlioz she’ll never love him, not in a million years, not if he was the last standing man on God’s green earth. Your eyes fight to stay open, you’re sun drunk and satiated luxuriating in the bright rays of the afternoon light. 

You’re savoring every minute of this vacation, the first you and Joel have ever taken without Sarah, the two of you didn’t even have time for a honeymoon between your busy schedules and parenting responsibilities. A full week in a vacation home on the coast, complete with a beautiful swimming pool and gigantic kitchen. Just you, your husband, and a couple of trashy romance novels you’ve been meaning to read. 

It feels good to celebrate, Joel just finished his biggest job yet, one of those sprawling developments full of gaudy McMansions. Miller Construction is booming, much like Joel’s stomach. Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline.

You love your husband, no matter what he weighs, and if you’re being honest, you love knowing how happy and plump he is. He just can’t get enough of your baked goods, maybe it wasn’t a good idea that the man with the insatiable sweet tooth married a baker. Sure, you’re probably a little to blame, since you are the one that packs his lunch every morning, always making sure to include his favorite snack– your famous homemade chocolate chip cookies with dark, semi-sweet, and white chips. He can’t get enough of them, you can always tell when he’s snuck his hand into the cookie jar; the dusting of crumbs across his beard and shirt always gives him away. 

Each vacation day has been lazy– waking up around noon, drinking mimosas and eating flaky croissants on the patio, discovering a new position on the chaise lounge by the pool, never having a schedule that you both have to answer to– this is the good life. 

Joel swims and floats the day away, the water feels good on his often aching back. “You gonna join me baby?” he swims towards the edge of the pool with a wide smile across his face. You love all interations of your husband, but vacation Joel Miller might just be your favorite. The waves of his hair sit slicked back by the pool water, the water glints and glimmers across his body turned more bronze under the sunlight, a smile stays planted across his face miles and miles away from any responsibilities and stress.

“Maybe later,” you look up from your trashy romance novel, “Immelda just accepted Sir Sterling’s hand in marriage.”

—

Berlioz cages Immelda against the bruising stones of her garden wall, far away from the onlookers attending the regal party being thrown in honor of her engagement to Sir Sterling. He thrusts his tongue into her eager mouth, tasting the forbidden fruit of her. Finally, the story’s getting good.

The book drops out of your hands thumping onto your bare chest at the shock of Joel’s wet, warm body against your stomach, smushing your internal organs.

“This seat taken?” his Texas drawl drips with the sarcasm you’re always a sucker for.

“WHAT THE HELL?” you labor out, struggling under the full weight of Joel’s body.

“Figured since you weren’t answerin’ me, I’d get your attention somehow,” he adjusts his weight on top of you, giving you a bit of a reprieve from his full heft. You’d be a fool if you didn’t admit that you love the crushing sensation of your husband’s weight on you. “You’re quite comfy.”

“I’m glad I can be of service, even if you’re flattening my intestines.”

Joel moves to get up, but you reach an arm around him, pushing all of him back on top of you.

“Actually,” you gulp a breath in, “feels kinda good.” 

He turns to you, removing your sunglasses to look into your eyes, reaching his hand down and placing it against your cheek. “I don’t think I could love you more.” 

Everyone knows your husband as the often grumpy, direct, and intimidating force of a man. His workers dread him, the hardware store employees cower in fear at his knowledge, hell, even the oil change clerks hate to see him approach. What those outsiders don’t see is the softness in his eyes when he watches you and Sarah dance along to your favorite song, the hand he holds out to help you step down from his truck, the gentle touch of his lips against your skin when he gets out of bed to start his day. Joel Miller is a soft man underneath that gruff often flannel covered exterior. Now, all of his softness sits atop your body, dripping big droplets of water all over you. 

“I feel the same way honey, but could you please stop sitting on me now?” 

He chuckles as he stands, the shadow of your husband eclipses the sunlight before he lays his whole body on top of you; the chaise lounge groans at the weight of the both of you. He places his head in the crook between your shoulder and neck, sighing against your skin, soaking it with his wet body. 

“Ow,” you whimper, when the spine of your book pushes into the soft swell of your breast. 

Joel leans up, grabs your now soaked book and tosses it aside.

“Sorry ‘bout that, lemme kiss it better,” he says, angling his head down to place wet, sloppy kisses across your chest. “Hope you didn’t want to finish your book."

“I kinda did, it was getting to the good… smutty part.”

“Oh darlin’, I think you and I can make our own happy ending,” he says before taking your breast into his mouth. 

[astrotruther]

Astro Observations

misc. (i)

⛔️ TW: mention of anorexia and drugging❗️

♡ Venus Square Mars may attract obsessive people. In particular, people who obsess over their looks or fetishize them in some way. Brooke Shields had a whole nation obsessed with her at the mere age of 12. Eugenia Cooney has infamously attracted hoards of anorexia fetishists with her content. People with this placement may have a higher risk of drastic weight loss or gain.

♡ Either I meet too many Capricorn Suns by coincidence or it's a rather common placement. One reasoning could be that April is an ideal month for marriage in many places, especially ones where it gets unbearably hot in June. Spring adds to April's allure. Traditional couples often conceive right after tying the knot, making the pregnancy due in Capricorn season.

♡ Lilith is associated with sexuality but people focus too much ONLY on that facet of it. Lilith is associated with many other things like power, revenge and how one becomes a social pariah.

♡ Planets at 0° may symbolize struggle. Lana Del Rey has Sun at 0°. The Sun represents our ego. She had many controversies in 2020 including the mesh mask and her Instagram rant undermining POC artists. Even after criticism, instead of apologizing, she remained defensive. I believe that planets at 0° provide a lot of room for growth if the individual is genuinely interested in self-improvement.

♡ Aries Moon (ruled by Mars) and Scorpio Moon (ruled by Pluto, traditionally by Mars) despite being similar are perceived quite differently by people. The sign of Aries gives child-like quality to the native. They come off as cute and their sarcastic remarks are perceived as good humor. E.g. Rihanna roasting Helena Bonham Carter's sense of fashion. Meanwhile, one eyeroll from a Scorpio Moon, and they may come off as hateful and jealous. My advice to Scorpio Moons who want to be in the public eye, please never put on the mean girl persona. Tap into your kind side, it'll be received in a positive way and you'll attract genuine support.

♡ Venus-Mars aspects symbolize beauty; the difference may lie in how people perceive it. Venus Trine Mars are often called cute. People with this aspect are well-liked and have a good reputation. These are the people who may never be cancelled due to the halo effect they have. No matter how massively popular they are, people won't be digging up dirt on them, which is also why very little is known about these people's personal lives. These people often become a household name due to that one iconic thing they did, even if they decide to adapt a lowkey presence afterwards. Let me emphasize this with an extensive list of examples:

✧ Nina Dobrev (The Vampire Diaries), Zayn, Leighton Meester (Gossip Girl), Adele, Kit Harington (Game of Thrones), Sabrina Carpenter, Tobey Maguire (Spider-Man), Kate Middleton, Mandy Moore (A Walk to Remember), Jackie Chan, Jenna Fischer (The Office), Ana de Armas, Josh Hutcherson (The Hunger Games), Constance Wu (Crazy Rich Asians), Rowan Atkinson (Mr. Bean) and Alan Rickman (Harry Potter) have this aspect.

✧ Taeyang being the only member of former K-pop group BIGBANG who's had no controversies (also managed to keep his relationship hidden for a long time before revealing it with a wedding announcement), Khloé Kardashian being the least disliked Kardashian/Jenner sister, Cardi B admitting to drugging and robbing men, starring in Hustlers that glamorized it, hitting her career peak with WAP the very next year really drives the point home.

✧ I've also noticed this aspect in almost all Bollywood IT girls of their time: Priyanka Chopra, Aishwarya Rai, Anushka Sharma, Ayesha Takia, Dia Mirza, Divya Bharti, Parveen Babi - all loved by the general public despite the media scrutiny and misogyny that prevails within the industry.

Click daily to help Palestinians🍉🙏🏽: https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

[mellowsadistic]

Birthday Party - Part 3

One Year Later

Sarah’s soaking wet diaper squelched between her thighs as she toddled into the kitchen where her aunt was making breakfast.

“Good morning, baby girl,” Helen cooed at her twenty-one-year-old niece, reaching out to cup a hand to the front of Sarah’s nappy through her baby duck patterned onesie. “What a soggy girl! But I don’t smell any poo-poos just yet. Go take a seat, little one. Auntie will have your num-nums ready in just a second.”

Sarah blushed furiously, but even though much of the hypnotist’s conditioning had been undone and control of her body had been returned, her resistance had long since disappeared. She clambered obediently into to her highchair, her breasts wobbling freely in her loose onesie, and sat down on her pissy diapered bottom, wrinkling her nose in disgust as her bum pressed heavily against the sodden padding.

A few moments later, the microwave tinged, and her aunt took out an enormous bottle of warm milk and plonked it down in front of her. Sarah looked at it with distaste. It was breastmilk, she knew. One of Helen’s friends was producing too much of it for her own baby to take, but she was more than happy to deliver a regular supply of bottles to Helen’s house to make sure it didn’t go to waste.

Fighting her revulsion, Sarah took the bottle with both hands and lifted the rubber nipple to her lips. Her mouth latched on instinctively and she began to suckle, feeling the warm, creamy breastmilk squirt across her tongue and flow down her throat. She sucked quickly, but the bottle seemed endless – even after fifteen minutes, she was barely halfway through the enormous thing, and she already felt full to bursting!

Sarah let out a feeble whimper as she thought about her once-tight, sexy tummy. Her mother and aunt were careful not to make her gain too much weight, but her formerly trim stomach was gone. Her belly had a cute layer of what Helen called her ‘baby fat’, perfect for tickles and tummy raspberries. Even her face had a slightly rounder, ‘cuter’ look to it. But Sarah knew better than to throw a fit over her baba. Her aunt was quick with a spanking, and looming over everything was the threat of being reduced back to being a helpless prisoner inside a baby-brained body.

After a few more minutes of mindless suckling, Penny joined Sarah at the table, flashing her babified older cousin a bright smile before tucking into a bowl of cereal with milk.

Sarah couldn’t help but notice how her little cousin’s table manners had improved. It wasn’t long ago that she’d ended every breakfast with soggy cornflakes and milk on her chin, but now she didn’t spill a drop. Straight away, Sarah felt something clunk into place inside her head. She let out a quiet little moan around her bottle, but there was nothing she could do – not all of the hypnosis had been removed, and when a compulsion hit her, she was powerless to stop it. Penny had done something mature, and that meant Sarah had to do something immature.

Immediately, she popped the bottle out of her mouth, blew a spit bubble, and dribbled breastmilk down her chin. She could feel it soaking into the collar of her onesie. Messy girl, a voice echoed in her head. Mucky tot. Dribbly, soggy, wet little baby. Penny giggled at her, and Sarah shoved her bottle back into her mouth to resume her sucking, her face as red as a tomato. No matter how much time passed, it never got less humiliating. She was a grown woman for goodness sake! She didn’t deserve this! Just because she’d been a little rude one time, it wasn’t fair to turn her into some kind of overgrown baby! She’d been taken out of university of course, and there was no chance of going back – her auntie said that if she was lucky, maybe one day she’d be allowed to grow up a little bit more and get a job pushing shopping trolleys at the local discount supermarket. But that was it. No more ambitions. No more dreams. Just minimum wage, and well-used nappies hanging off her hips.

Tears started welling up in Sarah’s eyes, but before a tantrum could really get started, she was distracted by another feeling. There was a sudden fullness in her bottom. Her bladder control was totally gone, and Sarah found herself helplessly dribbling pee-pee into her diapers on a near constant basis, but even after months as little more than an adult-sized toddler, she still had at least some control over her bowels.

With a hiss of air, she finished her bottle. Feeling almost nauseous at the amount of breastmilk now sloshing about in her tummy, Sarah gently lowered herself out of her highchair, clenching her bottom tightly.

“Um… Auntie…” she said, waddling up to Helen and putting on her best pleading look, “I really need to go poo-poo. Do you think maybe I could use the potty?”

“Sarah,” Helen said sternly, turning to look at her niece, “you know the rules. You get to have control over your body again, but you are not an adult anymore. Your mother convinced me not to make you act like a total baby all the time, but when it comes to your potty training, I’m putting my foot down. You will never use a toilet again, young lady. You wear nappies now, and nappies are for pooping in. Now squat down and make a messy in your pants right this instant, or I’ll call the hypnotist and have you cooing and gurgling in your crib by tomorrow!”

Her lower lib trembling pathetically, Sarah fell into a squat, all traces of the formerly proud, snarky young woman gone for good. With a loud fart, she started pooping her diaper. She could sense the smiles of her aunt and cousin above her as she grunted and strained to make yuck-yuck in her pants right in front of them. As the heavy, disgusting load dropped into the back of her nappy, Sarah burst into tears.

“That’s a good girl,” Helen cooed, her face alive with malicious delight, savouring the sight of her niece packing her adult Pampers like the ridiculous baby-woman she’d been turned into. “Get it all out. Right in your pants like a silly little baby.”

Sarah’s vision was blurred by her tears, but she felt her aunt take hold of her hand once she’d finished pooping. Helen led her into the living room and positioned her in front of the television, where some inane children’s program was showing.

“Be a good girl and watch your kiddie shows, Sarah,” said Helen, smirking. “I need to take your older cousin to kindergarten now, so I want you to stay right here. I’ll change your diaper when I get back.”

Sarah only sobbed.

“And your baby monitor will be recording,” Helen went on. Sarah felt her stomach plummet. “I’ll be reviewing the footage later,” her aunt continued warningly, “and if I don’t see a happy big baby girl dancing along to her silly programs, you’ll be getting a very nasty spanking when I get back. Is that clear, little miss?”

“Yes, auntie Helen,” Sarah whimpered, as the embarrassing, babyish music began to play. Helen and her daughter turned to leave, and Sarah started to dance. This was her life now, and she had no choice but to get used to it.

The End

***

If you want to read more evil stories about women being transformed into overgrown babies, I also post on SubscribeStar.

[wintfleur]

ꔫ my girl

°. — pairings ( Oscar piastri x fem! reader )

°. - summary ( it’s late and Oscar just wants to make his girl feel good )

°. - details ( g; fluff, smut. w; smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, kissing. wc; 2.8k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( hello everyone! I was really nervous about posting this since it’s my first time ever writing smut…please feel free to comment and tell me your thoughts or tips on how I can improve, you can even send in asks. Also feel free to msg or send in asks, I would love to make some f1 friends! I hope you enjoy! Please be kind )

“Oscar it's late” you whisper breathlessly, biting down on your lip to stop involuntary moans from spilling out into your quiet room. You felt a little overwhelmed by your boyfriend's set attack on your neck, his lips were relentless. You were laid out in the middle of your bed, your head resting on the soft pillows. While Oscar laid between your legs, one of his hands on your hip, caressing the skin under your tank top, his other hand stopping himself from putting all his body weight on you. 

“It’s okay love, just close your eyes…I’ll do all the work” Oscar whispered against your neck, his tone teasing as his gaze averted to you, wanting to see your reaction. He was pleased when he noticed the sharp intake of breath you took and the way your eyes fluttered close, your pretty lips parting. Oscar desperately wanted to lean over and capture your lips in a kiss, but he didn't want to give in too quickly, he wanted you to beg for more. 

Oscar dipped his face back down in your neck and peppered a soft trail of kisses from your jaw and down your neck, leaving a wet trail in its wake. He couldn't help but smile when he hears the gasp you let out when he blows on your neck. He trails his lips across your collarbone and to your shoulder, his eyes look to you and he's not surprised when the two of you lock eyes. 

Oscar doesn't look away from your wanting eyes as he softly bites onto the strap of your tank top and slowly pulls it down. He was relishing in the slow teasing, while you just wanted him to go fast, the slow and soft touch of his lips on you was torturous. You wanted more.

“Oscar please” you begged, your tone coming out whinier than you expected it to. You slightly arch your back, your chest coming up to touch his. The flimsy fabric of your tank top and his hoodie was the only thing between the two of you, and you desperately wanted them both off. It wasn't fair how fast he would make you crack; little did you know that you had the same power over him too. 

“Is my girl getting greedy now?” Oscar smirked after he pulled your strap all the way down, he placed another kiss on your shoulder before leaving a quick kiss to your jaw. Oscar slowly trails his hand down from your waist and stopping at the lace trim of your panties, his finger teasingly dipped under the lace waistband as he leaned down to whisper in your ear “Don't worry, I'll give you what you want.” 

Before you could comprehend your boyfriend's words, a surprised gasp was escaping your lips when Oscar brought both of his hands up and softly yanks down your tank top. A cheeky smile appears on his face at the sight. Oscar keeps his eyes on your chest, and he bites his lip to stop himself from groaning, when his thumb grazes over your nipple and feels it harden under his touch. You look down at Oscar watching how captivated he was with your boobs, both of his hands now on your chest, his touch slow and soft as he rolled your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger, heavy breaths coming from you. You needed more. 

Oscar looks up at you when you let out a small whimper, your hips rising; hoping to get some friction, hoping to get more. Oscar chuckles and he sits up sitting back on his knees, his eyes on you and he watches how your chest rises with your heavy breaths. Your eyes silently pleading for more of your love's touch. 

“You are so impatient baby, what am I going to do with you?” Oscar winks at you before his hands move to the bottom of his hoodie and taking it off in one fluid movement, you didn't understand why you found that so hot. You watch as he tosses his hoodie to the side, your eyes following the hoodies movement, making sure it didn't land on your desk by your lit candles, before looking back at him. You couldn't take your eyes off of him, your eyes raked all over his bare chest and his strong arms. Your thoughts were all but innocent. 

Your eyes lingered on his v-line, and you were so lost in your impure thoughts that you didn't even notice that he leaned back down until you felt his big hand softly grip your chin and tilt your face up towards him. Oscar's eyes are focused on your lips as he has his thumb softly brush over your bottom lip, your lips were like the sweetest heaven and God did he want a taste. Your boyfriend wasted no more time before capturing your lips in his. 

Your eyes fluttered close and you let yourself get lost in the hungry but sensual kiss. You felt Oscar run his tongue along your bottom lip before gently biting on it, causing a moan to escape your lips. Oscar took the opportunity to slip his tongue through your parted lips, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he didn't have it memorized already. 

His hand gripping your chin moves down to your chest, fondling with your nipples. The kiss only got more heated when you moved your hands down his bare sides and stopped at his hips, pulling him closer to you. A grunt escaped Oscar's lips at the feeling of his hips being pulled down against you, Oscar didn't stop from there and he moved his other hand to hold your waist, rolling his hips against yours. A satisfied smirk decorating his lips when you pull away from the kiss to let out a breathy moan. 

Oscar dipped his face in your neck, and your fingers found their way into his hair, softly tugging on what you could, which just seemed to motivate him more. He started his assault on your neck, sucking and nipping at every inch of your skin he could reach. His lips left a trail of love bites down to your chest, you let out a whine when you felt his hot breath on your nipple, arching your back when his tongue swirled around your nipple. 

“Arms up pretty girl” Oscar whispers and you are quick to follow his words. You lift your arms up and lean up a little so Oscar can fully pull your tank top off your body, leaving you in just a pair of white lace panties. In the beginning of you and Oscars relationship you would have been shied to be so bare in front of him, but now being shy was the last thing on your mind. Oscar placed a soft kiss on one of the love bites on your chest before kissing down your stomach, resituating himself so he was laying on his stomach in between your thighs. 

You sit up on your elbows and look down at your boyfriend, no matter how many times you see him between your thighs, the sight never gets old. Oscar looks up at you and he gives you a sweet smile before placing a soft kiss on your abdomen, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties. He looks back up at you and takes in the sight of you biting your lip, before he can go further, he needs to know it's okay. “Are you okay with this?” 

You give him a nod, eager to have his face between your thighs. 

“I need words love, I need to know if it's okay if I can eat this pretty pussy” Oscar smirked as he rubbed your hips with his thumbs, his eyes not leaving yours, he knew what kind of effect his words had on you. And by the way you absentmindedly lifted your hips off the bed, he knew his words affected you. Oscar just pushed your hips back down and placed a few kisses on your hip. 

“Please Oscar, it hurts” you couldn't help but whine, the ache in between your thighs was becoming unbearable. You squeeze onto the duvet and spread your legs wider, Oscar just chuckles at the sight of you being so eager…so desperate for him. 

“Awe, is my baby all worked up?” Oscar teasingly purred as he softly rubbed the pad of his finger on the visible wet spot of your panties. The pretty moans escaping your parted lips only makes hum rub harder, his other hand pushing down on your abdomen to keep you still. Smiling to himself when you say between your moans “It's your fault.” 

Oscar rubs his hands over the soft skin of your thighs before leaning down and littering the inside of your thighs with soft kisses. He would have given your thighs more attention; knowing how much you love it, but he couldn't wait any longer, he needed to taste you. Oscar's fingers go to your lace waistband, and in one quick movement and with the help of your lifting your hips up; he pulls them off, tossing them behind him. 

When you feel his hot breath over your center, your head drops against your soft pillow and your eyes flutter close in anticipation. You can't face him, not yet the sight alone would make you orgasm. Oscar lowers his face, his eyes hypnotized at the sight of your sopping pussy. Oscar places a gentle kiss on your clit before pulling back, admiring your pretty pussy one more time. He licks his lips almost moaning aloud when he tastes your juices on his lips, he lowers his face again and slowly but boldly licks you from hole to clit. 

You moan loudly and feel your muscles clench as he dips down and repeats the motion, licking through your folds and slowly circling your clit a few times. Your head was spinning at the feeling, and you were finding it hard to stay still under him. 

“Fuck darling, tastes so good” Oscar grunted against your pussy, his licks were getting faster, and he went from flatting his tongue to make sure he got every drop from you. With desire in his eyes, he looks up at you to watch your reaction as he tongues your entrance. You whine loudly and you couldn't help but arch your back. He grips your hips firmly. Oscar buries his tongue inside you, fucking you with it. 

“Oscar” You cried out as you felt him lap at your folds, nose pressing against your clit. Your hands moved to his shoulders where you squeezed onto, your fingers digging into his skin, but Oscar didn't mind the sting. He just moaned against you, alternating from sucking your clit into his mouth and moving his tongue back down to fuck you with it. You’re panting, finding it hard to breathe as he speeds up.

The wet, lewd noises your cunt was making as he eats you vigorously was making you moan louder, practically chanting his name. He just presses his mouth more into you, not minding at all when your juices drip down his chin. Grunting when you roll your hips into his mouth, his grip on your thighs tightening. Oscar teasingly brought one of his fingers up to trace your hole, smirking when your pussy clenches around nothing. 

He slowly eases his thick finger into your desperate hole, he fucked his finger into you at a slow pace, letting you get used to the feeling before he added a second. One of your hands found its way tangled into his hair, softly tugging on it as you begged him to go faster. 

Oscar couldn't deny his girl such a request, especially when it sounded so pretty coming from your lips. 

Your thighs start to tremble as he sucks harder on your clit and his fingers scissor inside you faster. He moaned against your cunt, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure throughout your entire body, causing you to unconsciously grind against his fingers, his fingers buried knuckle deep. His eyes were trained up at you, relishing in your facial expressions. 

You didn't even notice your thighs were trembling so much until you felt his hand rub up and down your thigh soothingly. His soft touches on your thigh didn't stop his relentless fingers and tongue, he was determined to watch you fall apart. 

“Oscar please” you pleaded desperately, rolling your hips against his mouth and fingers, needing your release more than anything. You were tired, your body aching. You feel it building in pressure, piece by piece you were slowly falling apart. 

“Yeah?” Oscar smirks, pulling his mouth from you, his fingers still playing with your hole. His mouth and chin glistened with your juices and his eyes filled with desire. “Gonna cum for me?” 

You're nodding helplessly, sweet and loud moans escaping your lips as he thrusted his fingers into your faster, his tongue softly playing with your clit. You feel your stomach begin to tighten, your heartbeat pounding through your ears. So close. 

“Come on then pretty girl” he cooed as your fingers tugged onto his hair harder as your hips twisted in pleasure, only for your thighs to be held harder by Oscar to keep you still. He brings his mouth back down, keeping his eyes on you as he lavishes you with his tongue and fingers. Only moving his mouth from you for a second to whisper breathlessly “Cum for me” 

“Fuck Oscar” You cried out as you squeezed your eyes shut and arched your back. You feel the tight feeling inside of you burst, for a moment you couldn't breathe. Your thighs clench and you grip his hair tighter, making him moan into you. The vibration from his moan only makes your high more intense, your toes curl and for a moment there is no sound but the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears. You collapse back onto the bed, a choked sob slipping past your lips as you feel him guide you through your orgasm “Oscar!” 

You panted as you tilted your head to the side, your chest heaving with heavy breaths as you tried to recover from your intense high. Oscar, your sweet and loving boyfriend licks you through your orgasm, not wasting a drop. You whine when you feel his tongue circle your sensitive clit and he laughs, pulling his face away from your core and placing soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. 

“You did so good baby” Oscar smiles as he leaves a trail of kisses up your leg as he sits up on his knees. He looked down at your body in awe, you were still panting from your orgasm and your hand that were tangled in his hair were now reaching for his, you always did get so clingy after your high. Oscar smiles and takes your small hand in his, intertwining your fingers. He looked so attractive, his lips were reddish from all the kissing and sucking. 

Oscar notices the tired look in your eyes and uses his other hand to brush your hair out of your face and tuck it behind your hair. His hand lingering on your cheek to caress it, you lean your face against his palm. Oscar smiles and leans down to softly peck your lips, you quietly whimpering at the taste of you on his lips. You smile tiredly and pull him closer to you, just wanting to feel him close to you. He lets himself lay on you but not putting his full weight on you, he didn't want to crush you. 

Oscar whispers in your ear “are you okay?” 

You hummed as your answer, your throat horse from all the moaning. Oscar was quick to notice your discomfort and despite the small whine you let out and you trying to pull him back, he lets go of your hand and sits up and reaches for your water bottle on your side table. You slowly sit up as well, rolling your shoulders as you watch your boyfriend grab the water and open it before handing it to you. You offer him a small smile before taking a big gulp of the water, your boyfriend setting the bottle back when you are done. 

“Thank you, Oscar” You smile, your throat feeling much better. He smiles at your cuteness and softly bumps his nose against yours. Oscar pulls you to his chest, his arms around your waist. You were too tired to really think about how good it felt when your nude chests touched. You felt your boyfriend bring his hand up to your hair, and the soothing feeling of him playing with it causes you to close your eyes and lay your head on his shoulder, too tired to fully sit up. Oscar kisses the top of your head before whispering. 

“Anything for my girl”