#Teething problems in babies

[moongothic]

Madoka is the promise you won't turn from a child, full of hopes and dreams and the wish to save the world, into a bitter adult who just wants to hurt others and ruin people's lives

Madoka promised to be there for you to remind you of the person you wanted to be and to stop you from becoming what you sought to destroy

Madoka made that promise and became the very embodiment of it

[sluggoonthestreet]

Another terrible lizard thwarted by the Teething of the Shrew.

[hezuart]

Sorry to disturb you but

I still find hilarious that your LN au got an person so butthurt that they're still ranting about it even till this day

The audacity of you to not include THEIR favorite characters on YOUR OWN AU, completely unforgivable.

Jokes aside, take care and keep up your awesome works!

YEAH,,,,,,, yeah,,,,,,,, I'm - it's a big wow for sur,e ...

Something that bugs me is that, they were complaining that the fandom, outside of drawing Mono and Six, only ever draws Mono and Seven and like.... WHERE!!!SHOW ME!!! that's the entire point I made the comic! There was no art of Seven and Mono!!! They're characters who never meet, so no one ever really drew them together back then, at least, not so thoroughly to explore a dynamic with them. Granted Five / Raincoat girl isn't given the same treatment, but that's because she's from the inferior mobile game! And you couldn't get a read on her personality because there was a lack of cutscenes for her!

They're complaining about a fandom making content that isn't catered towards them, and that's just ridiculous!

Anyway, thank you!!! Almost done lining the backgrounds for the next part of the AU.

[dramatic-dolphin]

okay the weirdest thing. in middle school my dentist showed me the xrays of my teeth and told me that i was missing one adult tooth (it's just not there) so i will have to get dentist help to make sure there's no gap between my adult teeth when it falls out

except. i'm 23 and it has not been a problem. did. did that tooth just never fall out. do i still have one (1) baby tooth. what.

[lolottes-pad]

if i think hard enough then perhaps i can manifest my comfort character and get him to Kill my mother

[sabka-dentist07]

Common Teething problems in babies and its solutions

Half a year through, and that is when the actual problem begins. Or should I say, the actual dental problem begins? It is stressful, not just for them, but for everybody around them. Confused as to what I mean? Well, if you’re a parent, I think you know what this is about. The most problematic period for a baby as well as the family, teething. Teething problems in babies is a slow process; a process wherein the teeth start to come out, rather erupt out, slowly and steadily. Easier way to explain it? See a baby taking its thumb, or any other object in its mouth? Yes, that’s when you know teething and its problems are approaching. This is where the teething problems in babies begin. Teething problems in babies usually start at the ages of six months to two years. The baby is cranky because the teeth are coming in, the parents are irritable and everything is chaotic. The baby only aims to relieve pain when it puts any object or finger in its mouth. Swollen gums in a baby’s mouth are also a very common sign if you’re still confused as to what teething is. The baby’s discomfort results from a new part forming in its body. The teeth, take their own time to form, depending on their shape, largely. This is because the larger molars, cannot easily pop up or cut through the gums, whereas sharp teeth like incisors, treat this like a piece of cake. These are the common teething problems that occur in babies. Patience is the real test for the baby. And that level is simply at its lowest and worst state because babies are easily irritable while teething. And if that isn’t enough, they still have to deal with the terrors of drooling, fussy eating habits, constant thumb-sucking, and whatnot. So, this concludes with the babies being the hero. The teeth eruption seems like a nightmare for the baby. But alright parents, we got a way out of this for you too, so let me take the liberty to provide some helpful tips and solutions to this problem of teething. No, but really, this is an all-in-one solution, for you as well as the baby. These are the solutions to baby teeth problems.

Anything cold, literally anything cold will do. No, this does not call for ice cream. Not for you, or the baby! A refrigerated fruit, or even a chilled metal spoon, will soothe the baby, putting him or her at ease.

Being a parent means doing things that you’ve never done before, or no one has done before. And hence, this calls for the massaging of the gums. Slowly and gently, massage your baby’s gums, with clean hands, and watch them fall into a state of relaxation that you’re both happy to see.

Clean your baby now and then. This does not only involve the dirty nappy but also the baby’s mouth because teething pretty much covers a baby in their drool. Keep wiping it off because it may only drag the irritability.

Ask the baby’s dentist, or pedodontist, for any medical suggestions. Any medicines, or any gel, to relieve the baby of pain, will be helpful.

Last but not least, keep your baby close to you, at all times. Hug them, even when it seems enough. They need all the cuddles in the world and have to be aware that they are not alone in this.

Teething devices such as chewing rings exist so that the baby can chew on them and feel relieved. Teething devices are not so much devices as they are toys, so they are fancy and colorful. Children enjoy these teeth devices, and they not only help relieve pain but also distract them as they start playing with them.

Another tip is applying a little pressure to the area in pain with a hardened object like a hardened slice of bread, or pacifier.

Email — info@sabkadentist.com

Phone number — 9222233111

Address — Ahmedabad, Bangalore, Mumbai, Nagpur, Nashik, Pune, Surat, Satara, Vadodara

[crayonurchin]

You ever have a therapy session so insanely intense that you get to unlock 'Movie Moment' as a mood after a massive revelation that your therapist has clearly known about for like 5 years but you're only just figuring out?

[little-mimikyuwu]

.

[smilesrobotlover]

Sorry about my panic, I always had terrible looking teeth as a kid, and dentists would harangue me about not taking care of my teeth. I brushed my teeth regularly, I used to good toothpaste, I flossed, I did everything I could to take care of my teeth and the doctors and family members who only looked at my teeth would say I didn't brush my teeth at all. I got bullied about it to the point where I never smiled with my teeth showing, and I vividly remember being told in high school by a girl I thought was a friend that she didn't want to take me to her place because she didn't want her mom thinking she was friends with crackheads. All of this to say, I have A LOT of trauma regarding my teeth, and I'm still struggling with my dental health. None of it was my fault, I understand having teeth that naturally need more care than the average person. Im sorry for spazzing on you. Teeth aren't something normally talked much about.

You’re fine, it sounds rough. Again I appreciate the concern and advice and it’s always good to know if something is actually damaging for your teeth (people don’t realize how important oral health is I’m afraid).

[andromedasummer]

opal was so well behaved (mostly because they had blankets scented with this drug that calms down cats we put it over her and she just became so eepy. it worked so well that a giant samoyed barking non-stop no breaks out of pure excitement for 5 minutes straight while bolting around in the same room as us didnt perturb her)

i pet her as she got her vaccination and she didnt even open her eyes when the needle was in. she let the. blanket cover her (she HATED being covered normally) because it made her feel so chilled. she only hissed when she got scooped. and the one time she did get agitated, when the vet was listening to her heartbeat, i started running my finger up her nose (have done so since she was a kitten 13/14 years ago) and the vet said her heart rate dropped immediately 🥺

[lakesbian]

while we're on aishalec break from the torture chamber i'd like to inform everyone that the aisha song of the day is baby blackout by daisy grenade

[sugarbabenicki]

Finding out he’s a weird kisser <<<<<<<<

[dragpinkman]

my 14 year old dog will live to be 80, i know this in my heart

[korattata]

.....i may have accidentally trained Stella to not eat her food unless i say its okay

Even if i'm not home

Oops.

[fucktoru]

satoru playing into the whole super dad role, wearing a baby carrier everywhere and mindlessly letting your teething baby chew and slobber all over the tip of his finger to soothe her itty bitty aches. unable to keep his precious baby girl out of sight for a second, barely allowing you to lift a damn finger in the middle of the night as your daughter’s cries rouse the both of you from slumber. sure, satoru slacked off on plenty of things but never when it came to his princess. her diapers full? he was already changing it. breast milk was taking some time to come in? not a problem, he’ll feed her using formula. a sudden sneeze? she must have caught a cold. needless to say, he would do anything for his little girl. he was always on alert, having conditioned himself to sleep only a few hours even before the baby was born due to his demanding work schedule. and although you appreciated his consistent efforts and the lengths at which he was willing to go to prove himself a good father — though you knew he would be from the start and he’d done just about enough even while you were pregnant — you would like to spend at least an hour with your baby before she inevitably got whisked away by your husband. but no matter how many times you tried to reason with him that you were completely capable of taking care of the child you birthed for just one night, he’d readily refuse. you’d spent nine months nourishing and caring for his little one in your tummy, and now it was his turn.

[yeyinde]

You want a baby. Simon can't get over his hangups to give you one. The solution to both problems? Johnny.

18+ SMUT. breeding. mildly dubious consent. Johnny feasts on your pussy and then does his best to knock you up while Simon watches. slight body worship. bastardization of religious imagery. Mean!Dom Simon. rough, messy sex.

He's not the type to saw off his own hand to feed you, but would rather find a third man to satiate you both. The only one who can care for you, he said. Can't do that when he's dead, can he?

Maybe that's why he calls for Johnny.

down boy. eager mutt. lil' pyedogs got himself all twisted up in a rutt. help him, won't you, pet?

Johnny's softer than Simon but only just. This margin of distance, however, could be the gaping maw of a canyon for how wide it really is when scaled down to fit. Boxed inside a narrow bed—on your belly, cheek on Simon's knee; ass up, legs spread. Johnny behind you—colluvium to Simon's mountainside, but still so broad, so thick, your hips twinge with the effort of keeping your knees so wide apart.

You feel it whistling through the chasm when he licks his lips behind you—a loud, lascivious smack, a wet suckle—and feel the burn of his stare riveted on the split of your flesh. This bare seam Simon swears he found nirvana tucked deep inside of. A buried ravine. Aquifer he quenches himself on.

A pilgrimage Johnny has been aching to take.

And that's what this is, isn't it? Yatra to the hidden piscina. A procession to pollute the tarn—something Simon can't bring himself to do.

Bad genes. Trauma—sticky, noxious tar that oozes from the rotting filaments; festering deep inside. Cancerous: a mass you long to cleave from bone but know it's not cosmetic. Not just the ball joints, or the studs, but the foundation itself. If you start tearing up pieces now you'll have nothing but an empty plot and a pile of damaged debris.

So:

Enter the third man.

A tool. Vassel. Pays fealty by fucking a baby into your womb.

It's what you wanted, isn't it?

(yes, but—)

It happens faster than you can keep up with. Hands on your hips. Coarse hair tickling the back of your thigh. Warm breath against sticky, wet flesh. A broad nose parting your folds. Inhale. Exhale on a deep, reedy groan.

"fuck, ye smell heavenly, doe."

Simon hums before you can peel your tongue from the roof of your mouth, answering for you with a brassy invitation: tastes even better, Johnny.

It's all the permission he needs before he pushes his head closer to your bare cunt, groaning as his tongue cleaves a silky, thick line between your folds. Gorging himself without much preamble. Hands curled around your hips like expensive silverware, pulling you back into the wanting, eager suck of his mouth.

All at once, it's too much. Your hips shift, squirming away from his tongue, the too-sharp press of his teeth against soft, sensitive flesh. Mewling, whimpering into the rain-wet fabric of Simon's jeans.

His hand falls on your head. A gentle tap. Behave, it says, but you can't.

Johnny tramples over that thin line between pleasure and ecstasy, blurring them both until it becomes pain. Overwhelming. Shoving you towards the edge before you've readied yourself for the fall.

"Can't, Simon, can't—"

The words elide, slurring into a high-pitched whine as Johnny feasts on your cunt. Devours you from the inside out—all teeth and tongue, sucking your clit until your thighs cramp from how tight your muscles tense, bleeding lactic acid over sore flesh. The scrape of his stubble over your folds, chafing them until they are raw. Swollen. Drenched hole fucked with the spear of his tongue, digging so deep you begin to fear that he's trying to crawl inside of you. Salt your womb with his own two hands—

"Can take it, birdie," is all Simon says before his hand slides down your arched, trembling spine. Fingers digging into the meat of your cheek, spreading you wider for Johnny to eat. "Look how eager he is. Can't get enough of that sweet cunt."

"It's—it's too much—"

You don't feel him move. Can't see much from the blurry tears in your eyes. But his other hand whips out, cracking over your untouched cheek in a firm, burning smack. One that makes Johnny moan when it lands. Cruel. Open palm. Hard enough to leave a welt in the shape of his hand—something that makes him groan when he sees it.

"fuckin' hell—" his fingers dig into the aching flesh, grip bruising.

Johnny peels his wet, open mouth away long enough to pant into the slick spread of your cunt, resting his cheek on the swell of your ass. "Bit rough wit' 'er, Lt."

Simon considers it. Body shaking the bed when he shrugs, leaning back to trail his hand back up your spine, curling over the arch of your nape. Keeping you still as you sob into his knee. "She likes it."

"know she does. Fuck, Lt. Can feel 'er little pussy twitching. Tryin' tae suck me in."

Another hum. The grip on your asscheek eases as his hand peels away, sliding over swell before notching a finger between your cleft. Dry. Rough. It drags down your seam until it brushes over your fluttering hole, calloused tip digging in.

"soft, too, ain't it?" He asks, words mockingly cruel in their conversational tone. Nonchalant. But Johnny's hands tighten on your waist, palms slick with sweat. Glueing to your flesh. You can tell he likes that. Likes the way Simon talks about you. Demeaning and brutish. Butcher selling a piece of meat. "Bit of a tight fit at first—" he curls his finger inside of you, stretching your sore walls with the width of his knuckle. Sinking in deep. Another follows before you can remember how to breathe around the sting. "But swallows you up like a goddamn dream, Johnny."

His breaths grow ragged. "Fuck, Lt. Look at th'."

It makes you clench up around Simon's fingers, embarrassment scorching through your chest. "Please—"

Neither of them acknowledge you. Simon's fingers split, spreading wide apart as Johnny shuffles forward for a closer look, and nearly choking on his next inhale when he does.

"such a pretty fuckin' pussy—" he says it like a curse. Spitting the words out on a snarl. Angry, now, for reasons you can't discern slobbering over Simon's leg. "God, Lt. ah cannae—"

Johnny shifts back. You hear the clink of a belt. The rip of a zipper. Choked groans barely swallowed down as Simon buries his fingers inside of your weeping cunt over and over again, blunt tips cruelly skating over a spot inside, just behind your navel, that makes you feel liquid and loose between your hips. Debris floating down a whiteriver.

Pleasure peaks with each brutal thrust until you're howling into his leg, unable to move with their hands on your body, holding you down. Making you take it. Making you come undone as Johnny watches.

"fuck, fuck, Lt—she's gonna cum, ain't she?"

"Wanna feel it, Johnny?"

Simon's name falls out of his mouth on a whispered prayer. Drenched in thick reverence. Arched in need.

"aye, sir—" there's something about the hush of his voice, the way it slurs into putty. Enshrining his need in a halo of gold. It sends shivers down your spine. Heats you up fast like a fever. Sends you screaming over the edge—

"gonna miss it, Johnny. She's squeezin' me so fuckin' tight—"

Whatever else they say is swallowed by the keen clawing at the hollow of your throat when you feel the blunt, fat press of his cock knocking against your swollen, stuffed rim.

It's a burning thing—a sharp, heavy ache. Knock, knock. Simon spreads his fingers again, forcing you open. Pulling your hole wide apart for Johnny's engorged head to push up against.

It feels like being split down the middle. Ripped apart. Simon's fingers flex around your nape, thumb brushing soothingly against the knob of your spine.

Can take it, he mutters, brassy and low. A rumble just for you. Gotta take it, birdie.

You forget why. Why you need Johnny's too big, too fat cock inside of your cunt until the head bullies through, scissoring Simon's fingers apart until they're pressed tight on either side of the flared glands. Squeezed between your taut rim and Johnny's cock.

Johnny makes a noise like you've gutted him. A gutwrenching sob. "Oh, shite, Lt. M'—m'nae gonnae last—"

"gonna cum inside 'er, Johnny? Knock my pretty birdie up?"

Right. Right. A baby.

There's a heavy push. Your flesh wrenched apart to fit the fat, throbbing length of his cock—

(the cock that's gonna knock you up—)

Simon's fingers slip out of you as Johnny bucks forward, burying himself deep inside with a long, throaty groan. It's a horrible sensation—a bellyache. Without the splint of Simon's fingers forcing you open wide to near numbness, you're forced to feel the thick girth of his cock. Rim fluttering, spasming over the flared base. Too much, and somehow, not enough.

You sob through it. Each one ripples through your chest until it feels like it will collapse. Every inch of your body burns, throbbing. You don't think you'll survive this ache—

Johnny sets a brutal pace. Likes pistoning into you in quick succession until you're nearly howling into Simon's thigh before slowing to a crawl. Force-feeding you every inch. Making you feel every single one. Long strokes that batter the plug of your womb, bullying against the aching seal of your cervix until the flashes of pain, the savagery of this pleasure, makes you feel sick.

Getting fucked by Johnny like this is both a punishment and a reward. Baptism in hellfire.

Be careful what you wish for—

"gonnae fuck ye 'til it takes, doe. Knock ye up. Want th', don't ye? Aye. Can feel it. Feel this little cunt beggin' fer ma cum. Dinnae worry. Ahm gonnae give it tae ye. A' o' it, doe. Every—fuckin'—drop—"

Each awful word lands like acid on your spine. Chewing through flesh, tissue, until it melts bone below. Liquified. Helpless.

And with Johnny's hands on your hips, anchoring you in place as he hammers into your sore, abused pussy, possessed with the need to carve a space inside of your flesh where only he fits, rots, and Simon's hand on the scruff of your neck, holding you down, there's nowhere to run. Nowhere to escape the ragged breaths that spill from Johnny's slick mouth, the desperate way he pumps into you—thrusts growing sloppy as he stretches towards the precipice they dangle you off of, kicking and screaming as the scent of iron fills your nose, as his flared cockhead scrapes over that place you thought only Simon would ever know. Bluntly battering into the altar that sits, nestled behind your navel, like he's allowed.

Holy offering in a handful of seeds he'll sow over fecund land until something grows.

"Look at you take it," Simon coos, sticky, damp fingers petting over your tear-stained cheeks. It smells of loam. Salt. Iron and ozone. "So pretty when you're gettin' bred, ain't you, birdie?"

It rips a mournful keen from your chest, a feverish moan following on its heels when the lewd squelch, the echoing slapslapslap of Johnny driving into your cunt fills your ears. So wet, so messy, you can feel the slick drying, tacky and thick, on the inner crease of your bent knee.

"He's gonna put our baby in you, ain't he, birdie? Like a good mutt—"

The hands holding you over the precipice let go. Johnny's answering moan spears into your head, fluttering around the pulsing heartbeat of liquid bliss frothing in the pit of your belly. Overflowing over the rim.

Too much, you think, but that's not quite right because you can't feel anything at all except the length of his thick cock lodged deep inside you. Throbbing in tandem with your second pulse.

"gonnae cum, Lt. Gonnae—oh, fuck, Lt—"

His voice is a warm river washing over your spine. Pooling ecstacy. Something heavenly. Divine—

Molten gold blooms in the pit of your belly. Cockhead spitting against the seal of your womb as he cums, filling you to the brim. Fucking it into you even as his cock softens, unable to pull out he says.

Feels like fuckin' heaven, Lt.

"ain't she just?" Simon volleys back, sounding oddly dissonant. Off-key. "Pretty little birdie got what she wanted, huh?"

The drawl of his tone—acid-scorched, electric—forces you to blink through the tears, lifting your aching, wet eyes upwards at him. Searching.

He has the eyes of a predator. Leonine. The gaze of a beast after it's devoured something whole. His touch is as gentle as he can be—a rough, cracked scratch over your blistered cheeks—and when he meets your divining stare, he coos.

"Maybe I'll 'ave a go next time."

In the pounding, soporific slurry of your mind, you can't wrap your head around the words. Can't make sense of them. Struggling to keep your burning eyes open, even.

Not that it matters.

Johnny huffs a scorching breath of laughter over your sweat-slicked spine before wedging his forearm under your belly. Keeping your hips tipped up as he falls into you, resting his broad chest against your back and smothering you into the damp mattress.

"Yer cruel, Lt," he rasps, chin nuzzling over the arch of your shoulder, cock giving a feeble twitch inside of you at something you can't seem to piece together.

"m'jus' givin' my pretty bird exactly what she asked for." Huh? He prods, fingers tapping over your cheek when your swollen eyes slide shut. "Forgettin' y'manners, ain't you? Say thank you, pet."

With Johnny's half-formed chuckle echoing in your head, you mumble the words out on an exhausted sigh.

"an' say thank you to this mutt f'knockin' you up."

It comes out slower this time. Sluggish. His cock gives another twitch as he buries his face between your shoulder blades, smothering a groan.

"Sweetest thing, Lt. Christ—"

"more where that came from, Johnny. Jus' you wait an' see." Another tap. You mewl in response, feeling war-torn and achy. Unable to open your eyes for a second time, all you can do is whimper, burying yourself into his thigh. Pleading, silently, for clemency. Later, you think. Later—

But Simon has other plans.

"Fallin' asleep on me, birdie? Ain't even gonna give me a chance to put my baby in you? Greedy little thing, ain't she?"

Buried under the weight of Johnny as he peppers sucking, open mouth kisses over the width of your shoulder, cum leaking out around the softening plug of his cock, all you can do is snuff out the sob on the arch of his knee, resisting the urge to bite instead.

"Maybe next time then, eh, birdie?" Since you've been so good for this mutt, huh? Maybe I'll give you a reward.

Just be careful what you wish for, huh, birdie.