#babbling bibs.

[khaopybara]

i might not remember why i blocked certain people, but from previous experiences, i have to believe that if my past self did that, it was for a good reason

[birdo-is-here]

kind of insane to remember many other people probably did not grow up with a subjectively unnecessary amount of bible knowledge shoved into their brains

[seiwas]

papa nanami and how he can't decide which fleece jacket he should buy for his little girl—

they’re tiny, the length of the fabric spanning his two palms and a half. he’s thinking hard on this one—tan or pink? tan or pink… tan or pink.

the store is closing soon; the only free time he had was after work, now, half an hour before dinner. he should hurry so he can go home already—to his little girl and you.

he sighs, holding the jackets up again. tan or pink...

hm.

he makes his choice.

.

when he arrives home, crouching low as his little girl comes crashing into him—the shopping bag falls to his side, hands holding her close. you peek from the kitchen, smile warm and in love.

kento always makes it in time for dinner, no matter what.

after tickles and giggles and a big munching on her cheek, your little girl pulls her papa by his pinky, dragging him over to you.

you always give him a kiss on the cheek.

“welcome home, my love.” you whisper by his ear, setting the last bowl of food down on the dining table.

you spot the shopping bag by the foyer, sneaking him a look, “did some early gift shopping?”

he follows your eyes, picking up your little girl as he sets her down on her seat.

“bought some fleece jackets for her, before it gets too cold.”

your lips curl up, knowing you chose the right man; his foresight, the way he looks after you both—it makes your heart swell as you walk to pick up the shopping bag.

when you pry it open, you’re met with fuzzy bundles of tan and pink. you snort, “couldn’t pick?”

he flushes, cheeks turning the same shade as the fabric in front of you—he points to his suit, “she said she wanted to match with me.”

your mouth forms an ‘ah’, still smiling, “and the pink?”

“i thought it’d look cute on her.”

he turns to your little girl, grip tight on her silicon utensils as she stabs around her food. she’s almost on her way to full sentences now and it shouldn’t make him this sentimental, but it does.

he wants her to stay this tiny forever.

his little girl.

“what do you think, baby?” you hold up the pink jacket beside you, speaking to your daughter.

she giggles, silicon fork in hand as her bib bounces; her eyes, the same brown as her papa’s but shaped like yours, sparkles, “pwitty! pwitty on!”

“papa always has good taste doesn’t he?” you look at your husband fondly.

your little girl babbles, giggling.

and nanami doesn’t know what he did to deserve this—your little family, but if he has to buy every fleece jacket in the world to keep you both warm and toasty, he will.

he’ll even make you all matchy.

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

@kentoangel @em1e @augustinewrites @crysugu @soumies @itadorey @mididoodles thought about u all while writing this 🥹

[wittlesissyb4by]

He is insatiable today. I've counted at least 7 orgasms in his diapers already, and it's not even noon. Even a very poopy diaper didn't stop him.

He used to go berserk when he was left in his mess, but now it doesn't seem to bother him. In fact, it seems like he's starting to enjoy it.

The hypnosis must really be having an effect. He won't take his eyes off of it. The only time he cries is when he's hungry or his headphones fall off. I have to change his onesie and bib often because it is absolutely soaked in drool.

His speech is getting more lispy and babbly. I can hardly understand him sometimes. Sometimes I worry I've gone too far and melted his mind.

Oh! There he goes again. Look at the little guy go! Let's time him and see if he can finally last more than a min--ohp! I guess not. 37 seconds. He's actually getting faster at cumming in his poopy diapers!

[izurou]

every morning, and often throughout the night, you’ll stretch a foot over to satoru’s side of the bed and make contact with him.

what comes across as a simple desire for physical touch, is actually a habit of yours—one born from both fear and experience. it’d be far from the first time you woke up and he wasn’t there, but things are different now, and you need him to be there.

but this morning, all you feel is cold sheets.

you sit up and rub at your eyes before looking out the window—finding your usual view blurred with rain. you shiver a little at the sight, or maybe—at the foreign emptiness of the room.

and that’s when you realize that, not only is satoru missing from your bed—the small white crib off to your right is also missing your daughter.

you think the worst on instinct. irrational, you’re well aware—there’s no reason for such thoughts anymore, but they still manage to penetrate your freshly conscious mind nonetheless.

that is, until a pair of giggles sneak past the little crack in your bedroom door, acting as the perfect antidote to your conclusion jumping.

now, you find yourself getting out of bed just a bit too eagerly for a gloomy sunday morning—sliding into your slippers before shuffling towards the door and down the hallway. you wrap your arms around yourself as you walk, both hoping for and needing a little extra love from at least one, but preferably both of your babies.

satoru’s voice becomes clearer as you near, and you’re just around the corner when you hear him ask your daughter, who can’t talk yet, a question.

“yeah? you like the rain?”

an odd thing to ask a seven month old, though it makes a little more sense when you actually see them.

the two are in the kitchen, and your daughter—strapped into her high chair, is staring out the large window with her big blue eyes, completely mesmerized. satoru sits hunched over in a dining room chair, watching her with the exact same expression while he holds a plastic green spoon up to her mouth, like he’s interviewing her.

“satoru?” in unison, the duo turn their heads at the sound of your voice. “what are you doing?”

“killing time,” he smiles at you before turning to your baby, who now has her chubby little hands wrapped around a couple of his fingers. “we were starting to think you’d never come to. isn’t that right sweetheart?”

she babbles excitedly in response, seemingly agreeing.

the transition from bassinet to crib hasn’t been an easy one, and last night was probably one of her worst so far. you’ll always rock her, and while she falls asleep easy enough—the second she’s put down, she’ll wake up and cry.

“sorry,” you sigh, padding over to the two. “she was up most of the night, i—”

“needed the rest,” he finishes for you—wiggling his fingers around and earning himself a few more precious baby giggles. “we know.”

you give him a smile, and he returns it in a much more devious fashion—as if he’s saying you owe me for this. on any other day, you’d roll your eyes at something like that, but it’s almost nine am, and you crawled out of bed just moments ago—there isn’t much you wouldn’t do for him at this point.

satoru wraps an arm around one of your thighs as you stand next to him, and he pockets your grin—knowing it holds all the gratitude in the world, and a little something more.

though, you just end up batting him away when you notice the empty bowl sitting on the tray of your daughter’s high chair.

“she ate all her breakfast?” you ask, peering over to see if he hid any of her yogurt in the pouch of her silicone bib. “why don’t you ever do that for me?”

you lean down to boop a finger on her nose, and she kicks her feet in excitement—letting out something between a squeal and a laugh.

“‘cause you like me better, right?” satoru chimes in, holding his makeshift microphone in front of her with a toothy grin—which gets her to babble, for some reason. “oh? what’s that? i’m the best? your favourite?”

you bring a hand up to flick the back of his head—even though sometimes you think he’s right with the way she’s always smiling at him, but you just chalk it up to his high contrast, baby friendly look instead.

“think you misheard,” you point out, “sounded like ew dad, you stink to me.”

your husband—dramatic, and a sucker for your baby girl, flops down onto her little plastic tray in defeat.

“say it’s not true,” he whines, sneakily tickling one of her feet to get her to laugh but, consequently causing her to smack her hands on his head. “hey, hey!”

“that’s my girl,” you snort, and she babbles some more—loving the attention she’s getting from the two of you.

“hmm?” satoru leans in closer to her, as if she’s about to tell him a secret, and then he shields his mouth with his hand to respond. “yeah i know, i think that smell’s coming from over there too.”

the two smile at each other, and while it might be at your expense, you find yourself smiling too.

because you can see it now—satoru picking your daughter up from her first day of kindergarten, begging for the scoop on all her new classmates. he’d listen attentively, and pry just a little further every time she mentions a more masculine name—selfishly wanting to ensure that he’s still her favourite boy.

it’s just a thought of course, but you’ll definitely be holding him a little closer tonight.

“look, she’s doing it!” satoru pulls you back to the present moment, nudging your leg with his elbow. he’s given your baby her little silicone cup—the one she’s learning to drink from. she has it tilted back, spilling milk half into her mouth, and half into her bib. “kind of.”

once she’s quenched her thirst, she haphazardly tosses the cup onto her tray, and you note the white residue that sits on her top lip.

“well, satoru?” you grin at him, grabbing the long forgotten plastic green spoon—microphone, and holding it up to your husband’s mouth.

he furrows his brows and opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“how does it feel knowing your daughter has more of a stache right now than you ever will?”

he grins, at you and then her. “that’s my girl.”

[uc1wa]

tags: fem reader, is called ‘mama’, you ‘n tsumu have a baby, fluff, suggestive, self indulgent i am having atsumu withdrawals

"who’s home?" you exclaim in a whisper to your wide-eyed baby who’s sat in your kitchen in front of you. her brows raise at the changed tone in your voice and the sound of the door. though she’s not of the age where words can fully be formulated, her eyes form small crescents as she reads over your face. small eyes matching your own and tiny baby teeth smiling as wide as yours.

the door opens and you hear a rustle of a backpack and coat, shoes making their way in before the door is locked with a click.

atsumu knew he wanted to have a baby with you. agreed to start trying after he’d won his first olympics, and a swollen belly became visible the first time you’d set down the pill and welcomed him with open legs.

"mmm," the blonde walks into the kitchen that’s lit up, smelling the food that you’d made and humming a satisfied moan. but he dramatically pauses in his tracks the second his daughter makes eye contact with him.

"who’s that?" he asks, face feigning innocence and curiosity. the same routine occurs every day, your baby knows it just as well. little legs flying to kick, accidentally hitting your arm, and small arms doing the same. a mixture of babbles following.

"is that…" he starts slowly, making his way to the high chair she’s sat at, arms extending towards his baby with a bib latched around her neck. "…my baby girl?" he finally exclaims, hands finding the underneath of her own, lifting her and bringing her to his broad chest—ignorant, or… he just doesn’t care about the baby food that smears from her bib to his practice jersey.

it’ll be washed anyways.

"you’re gonna make her throw up," you amuse, watching the way he holds her with a wide smile. the way he bounces her around when she hasn’t finished half of her food yet.

"‘s okay, mama. i’ll wash clothes tonight," he finally rests her against his chest, peering over her shoulder to you with a grin. "dinner smells good, what’d ya cook me, hm?" atsumu winks, taking a few steps to where you’re sat in front of a high chair, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

and then he stays there another beat. "give mama a kiss," he says in a silly baby voice, widening his eyes once more to match your baby’s. and maybe she understood those words, but it made you laugh the way her arms reached to grab either side of your head. pulling hair as he pushed her messy lips to your cheek.

"ya love mama? mhm, me too," atsumu chimes, standing back up with your baby, finding a chair that was sat beside you and taking a seat.

he sets her tiny form on the table for a few seconds, knowing that if she did make any quick movements, you’d grab her while he slung his msby backpack over his shoulder and to the floor. then his big hands found her again, tickling her belly while holding his hand out for you to place her food for him to feed her.

"gonna make our plates," you smile at the two of them and their interactions.

and just like every night, you both finish eating sitting side by side. atsumu throws some clothes into the wash as he lays your baby down to sleep. and somehow, some way, he’s pulling you into the shower with him, like always.

because he knows you take the best care of your sweet baby while he’s away at games and practice and work. "mama deserves to be taken care of too," he reminds you, hot water dripping from his lips to yours.

[mistress-riddle]

‘𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐘!

request. Can u do a father's Day with Tom riddle of how he spends time with his child?

cw. tom riddle x wife! afab reader, use of she/her pronouns, a changed riddle who let fatherhood make him become a better person.

a sigh escapes tom’s lips and he doesn’t even bother to contain it. returning home and being met with the sight of toys scattered on the floor and the smell of milk permeating through the air revokes an odd feeling of nostalgia through tom as he avoids the obstacles on the floor and beelines straight to the dark grey sofa occupied by 2 individuals.

.

tom places his briefcase on the coffee table and takes a good look at the mother and child snoozing together, soft breaths escaping their lips as they cling to one another in a quiet slumber. this time tom releases a softer sigh and easily drapes a random blanket on his family and retreats to his room for a quick shower, he decides to join them once he’s finished. it doesn’t take long for the man to wash up and get changed, a quick flick of his wrist and his wet hair is dried and styled in its normal wear and he’s by their side, slowly and gently scooping the sleepy child into his hold. the mother stirs, eyes fluttering open and a yawn escapes her as she rubs at her eye, using the other open eye to scan the room. it rests on the standing figure of tom who’s patting the baby’s back as softly as he can.

“oh honey, you’re back?” [name] asks, fixing the baby bib on her shoulder and placing the baby bottle on the table, which was previously clutched in her palm to feed their baby before the two decided to take a much needed nap.

“i wasn’t required at work today so i came home early.” he shrugs, not too strongly of course since the baby’s cheek is smushed against his shoulder and he didn’t want to wake him up.

“that’s wonderful.” [name] claims, getting up from the couch to pat his free shoulder and places a hand over her mouth to cover the yawn “you want something to eat? we had a late lunch around half an hour ago, or maybe it was 2 hours?” by the dazed look in her eyes tom wouldn’t doubt it being over 2 hours ago.

“it’s fine, i ate before coming here.” he lifts a hand and places it on his wife’s flushed cheek, using a thumb to caress it “how was the little one when i was gone? didn’t bother you much?” 

[name] raises a brow at him and allows a smirk to extend across her lips. tom seems to think that he’s a baby whisperer. he used to brag about how every time he was left to deal with one of the younger orphans back at wool’s, they’d fall silent in his presence. [name] doesn’t have the heart to tell him that the children were just scared of his glares. although, their little baby seems to actually enjoy his company, if the cutest little smile that lift his baby cheeks and incoherent babbling are anything to go by.

“he was fine, didn’t make a fuss, thank merlin.” the teething phase is a pain but little leo was being better than others his age. [name] lifts toms hand off her cheek and enters the kitchen, a few waves of her hand and she has the teapot hovering over 2 mugs. 

tom takes a seat on the couch and shits the baby to rest on his lap, hands grasping two little ones as he fondly looks at the infant. he looks like a perfect mix between tom and [name], has tom’s black hair that shows the softest wave, [name]’s nose and lips and tom’s eyes. it’s a weird position tom finds himself in as he stares at their child. he thought it was foolish of people to settle down and procreate, thought it was weak and if you were to ask him 10 years ago if he was going to start a family of his own, he would have laughed in your face and walked away. now, however, tom finds himself cringing at his foolish 17 year old self, so self-absorbed and driven by all the wrong things. 

“sickle for your thoughts?” [name] interrupts tom. he startles and presses rather harshly into tiny leo’s hand. a grimace overtakes the two as they fear the wailing that might follow but the baby merely peeks 2 eyes open and sends them a dissatisfied look “woah, tommy, it’s like looking at a carbon copy of you.” [name] snorts as she scratches a finger against the puffy cheeks of the baby, hoping to placate him in some way.

“very funny.” tom dryly replies and sends her a similar expression which does nothing to cease her amusement.

“strong genes you got there.” the husband just rolls his eyes before looking back at his baby and smiling down at him.

“had a good sleep, huh?” he asks his son who reaches up and tom holds him up allowing the boy to grasp the satin material of tom’s pajamas in his clutch, resting his cheek against toms chest.

“leo,” [name] calls softly from beside tom as she rubs the baby’s head affectionately “wanna tell daddy what we prepared for him?” tom raises one brow in curiosity as his baby stirs happily in place and mumbles something much like the word “cake” into toms neck.

“you baked me a cake?” he asks and is momentarily met with a chocolate covered cake with the words ‘happy father’s day’ iced on top of it with what he presumes to be white chocolate. a shoddy art piece can be located towards the bottom of the cake and tom feels confident enough to credit little leo as the artist. something swells in toms heart as he receives a kiss on both cheeks from his two beloveds.

“happy father’s day, love.” [name] whispers softly into his ear and tom picks up on the babble from leo “ ‘appy papa day!”

with [name] feeding all 3 of them the cake and tom entertaining the baby, they sit together in perfect harmony. plans of revenge, destruction and war long discarded and forgotten in favour of this. tom quite liked the feeling that came with receiving kisses from his family as opposed to the splitting of one’s soul.

[pinkrelish]

this is so eddie and adrie coded

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8YGbXB6/

okay, but lets make it sad | wc: 555 | angst warning

this is him while he's still living at steve's in a long effort to recover from the panic attack that led to his ultimate breakdown after trying to feed adrie with cold, shaky hands, so unsteady from sleep deprivation and trembling from constant spikes of fear, attempting to survive on his own and keep his newborn alive, but couldn't get her to take her bottle.

nancy took a lot of his stress on herself, but it only made him feel worse leaving his baby with another family to go into work every morning, and coming back to a house that wasn't his. guilt and shame ate away at him when he asked for updates he should've been there for, normal things he should've been able to do himself, but couldn't.

nancy and steve gave him room, gave him space, told him he's a good dad, suggested he try bonding with her.

eddie tried. he loved adrie with his whole heart—so much so it felt like he grew a second heart just for loving her, that must've been the constant pressure suffocating his chest—but he didn't feel the bond, the connection. he felt empty, he felt full. he felt nothing, he felt everything. he felt like a failure when his best friends did everything for him, including raise his baby alongside their own, taking on his burdens and giving him a place to stay, a place at their table, a place to sleep.

the first few bonding sessions were quiet, silent tears rolling streaks through the dirt on his cheeks. he laid next to his newborn on her tiny hand-me-down quilt and cried. this small, innocent person was his, and besides sharing a last name, she didn't feel like his. no, not her. she was so smiley for the man who had nothing, was nothing, was another face in the confusion of people who doted on her. someone who was nauseous with dread at the thought of her calling someone else daddy because he was bad at being one.

with time, eddie opened up to adrienne. he didn't just stare at her, he held her up to his shoulder while telling her about his day. he rocked her while talking through his thoughts about a truck that came into the shop. he muttered about life while she slept on his chest, ear to his hummingbird heart.

over months he learned to play with her. she was a little thing. dainty, fragile, giggly, ten teensy toes he liked to count and wiggle. he told jokes—bad ones, but when he smiled, she smiled even bigger. "yeah, you like that one?" he asked, and she babbled into a hiccup, then a laugh. he didn't know why, but that one got him, seeing her so overwhelmed with joy she had to laugh about it. a wet, raspy laugh. his breath emptied from his lungs in a stutter and water clung to his lashes. "yeah?" he asked again, throat closing tight. his voice pitched high, forcing out the question he never wanted to ask, afraid of the answer, "are you happy to see me?" she squeezed his finger with all her might and tugged on his hair even mightier, back to babbling smiley nonsense, drooling on the bib he dabbed at the corner of her mouth, so happy to see him.

[khaopybara]

to make it up for all the distress vi put mook through, she should just fuck mook real good for a long ass time like mut did so rak wouldn't think about eating other men. i think it's only fair.

[answer2jeff]

when it rolls in like thunder: teaser.

dad!carmy x hispanic mom!reader series teaser!

warnings : dad!carmy x mom!reader, reader is implied female and hispanic, tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of childbirth. obviously.

authors note : guys i know i'm late to the dad!carmy train.. but give me a chance!!! i tried so hard to not absolutely love the idea of carmen being a dad and i failed miserably. take this as an apology. and shout out to my hispanic girlies bc we deserve some fics made specifically for us !

"Levántate, princessa mia," you gently raised her chubby arms and sat Valeria up in her barred crib, the golden finish complimenting her collection of hand-me-down stuffed animals from your childhood.

You reached for her soft beige pants that rested on her little dresser next to her crib. She'd only recently grown into it, going up a size or two now that she finally turned 8 months old. You and Carmen saw them at a thrift shop in Chicago during your, although beautiful, excruciatingly long pregnancy.

He knew he had to see his little girl in them, rocking them beautifully just like her stylish and tasteful mother.

—

"What do y'think, honey? I like 'em. I think she'll look so cute. Cheap for the quality, too. Damn."

Carmen felt the thickness of the fabric with his finger tips, rubbing them together through the cloth. He nodded his head in approval. He raised them up to let you get a closer look as he beamed with a grin.

"Oh, these are adorable! They're gonna take a little while for her to grow into 'em, though, no? Parasen un poco grande, amor."

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if an article of clothing that you weren't even sure would fit would be worth 8 precious dollars in your joint bank account.

"Well, we don't know how big she's gonna be. She'll grow into 'em."

Carmen was pretty convincing. His voice soft and persuasive and his pure excitement for fatherhood was enough to reel you in to every proposal he made. How could you say no when he was just so enthusiastic?

"What about you, sweet girl? Huh? What do y'think?"

Carmen set the pants back down on the clothing rack, kneeling down just to slightest bit as he raised a hand to your belly. You peered down at him in awe, the sight of him already bursting with love for your child making you go weak.

And as if you couldn't be more angelic, Carmen thought you were more beautiful than ever carrying his child. He moved the palm of his hand into a slow and gentle circle.

The kick of your soon to be newborn daughter against his hand was reassuring. The two of you nearly gasped, laughing in unison at her comedic timing.

—

Valeria let out squeals and babbles of impatience as you rolled her little lace socks over her small feet. The hassle of getting dressed in the morning, even after she got the leverage to make an absolute mess of her onesie while she ate breakfast in her high-chair.

Even bibs couldn't catch the sloppy mush of crushed strawberries before she'd wash it down with the liquid gold that was your breast milk. Valeria had a tendency to try and bite down during feeding when her mouth was all gums. But now that her teeth were nearly done coming in, it was an even more frequent offense. It startled you every time.

You tried switching to bottles: the ones with realistically covered and textured silicone nipples with a stopper to avoid the possible spills of milk, but they never sufficed. Valeria had to have the 'real thing,' or she was hardly ever satisfied. Carmen wondered how you did it. Well, he knew how, logistically, but he knew that it had to be emotionally and physically exhausting.

"Yes, yes, I know. I'm tryin' to hurry. Geez, you've been spoiled since birth, mija," you sighed dramatically, nodding your head and placing a kiss on Valeria's forehead, her hair tickling your philtrum.

Suddenly, you could hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. Valeria immediately squirmed vigorously and smiled ear to ear as you scooped her into your tired arms. It was like she could smell him, the way she knew immediately that it was her dad.

"Who's that? Is that Daddy?" you turned to Valeria and bounced her up and down, her little hands already flaying around as giggle after giggle escaped her mouth. Your beloved husband called out for you once or twice, quickly realizing you'd been in the nursery when he heard the sound of his girls.

"Hi, hone—Oh my goodness!" Carmen gasped, peeking his head into the heaven-like bedroom. It seemed like he was immediately drawn to Valeria like a magnet. His white t-shirt stuck to his skin from the summer heat, his baseball cap casting a shadow on his face. He almost looked a little out of breath.

He walked in while gushing at the sight of Valeria all dressed in her mothers arms. The off-white, soft lettuce-cut top paired perfectly with her socks. The white ribbon in her hair literally tying the look together.

"Dada!" Valeria pointed her little finger to him, trying to escape your embrace and jump into Carmen's arms if she truly could. She'd become especially talkative lately. But she hadn't quite figured out to greet you with a sickly sweet 'mama' whenever you came around to pepper smooches on her head and smooth, chubby cheeks. You rolled your eyes playfully as you stood beside him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Did mommy get you all dressed up this morning? Hm?" Carmen smiled sweetly at his daughter and scrunched up his nose, just to hear her laugh at his expressions. He held her close against him with his right arm so that Valeria could rest her little head against his shoulder.

"Yep, I sure did," you chuckled, letting Carmen wrap his arm around your waist and draw you in for a quick kiss. Your hand lied on top of Carmen's. Every vein and knuckle was caressed by the pad of your thumb.

"Sorry I took a while. Jus' wanted to pick up some groceries down the street,'" Carmen mumbled into your hair before planting a kiss on the top of your head. "Thank you for bein' with 'er, baby."

You only nodded your head, leaning into his touch as your eyes fluttered shut. Last night was quite a riot. But Carmy, being the gracious hero he often was, arose the moment he heard sweet Valeria crying out for touch and attention from her crib. That baby monitor was the only thing that could help Carmen's anxieties calm and let him sleep at night, but was also the only thing waking him up nowadays.

"We got a real princess on our hands, huh?" you smiled at Valeria, her head rested on Carmen's chest and her hand pressed against his peck. She looked just as content. Her curly hair was thick and full of life. Those Italian genes ran strong. With the face of her mothers, friends and family raved about your resemblance everywhere you went with her. But those bright blue eyes and small smile of hers? All Carmy.

"Two princesses on our hands," Carmen corrected you.

With the angelic face of her mothers and fierce, yet tender eyes of her father, she'd be unstoppable.

"My princesses. My girls."

She already was, actually.

[floatingtomarsinmylittleboat]

This is a little fic from one of my asks/prompts on @ghostbite0 page about their tiny 21 trio au, such a good au I literally bawl every time... anyways tadaaaaa (I will be posting more trust gang)

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Sanemi could feel something felt off when he woke up. Like a little pulling In the the back of the head. He sat up and pushed away the little puppy dog he'd been sleeping with (someone keeps putting it in his arms he swears). Sanemi looks around the room he and the other babies had been staying in trying to wake himself up. He realized they weren't here in the crib with him, he was confused but he preferred it that way (no matter what the little voice in the back of his head said).

He pushed himself up and got up holding the bars of his crib getting ready to yell at someone to get him out of this thing before he hears it. He knows that laugh. The tugging in the back of his mind overtakes his whole little baby brain. An excited scream breaks out of Sanemi's mouth when he sees a flash of purple go by. 

Genya freezes, was that Sanemi? He froze thinking he heard wrong but he knew he was right. Obanai was with Mitsuri who was trying to give him a bottle and Giyuu was with Tanjiro. Sanemi got put down for a nap after he dumped his food onto the floor. Genya's nervous, ever since his brother got turned into a baby his behavior toward him totally flipped. Sanemi used to avoid Genya like a plague and now its like the two are the best of friends. It was overwhelming for the poor teen. His big adult angsty older brother who acted like Genya didn't mean anything to him was now a little baby who wanted nothing more than to hang out with him (when he's in baby mode again). A whine breaks him out of this thoughts. 

Genya hesitates for a bit longer until the whining because sobbing. He rushes into the room, almost tripping on a stuffed animal (Mitsuri swears it's to keep the babies entertained but everyone knows it's all for Obanai). Sanemi giggles through his tears and bounces in his place. Genya pauses and tries to think of the last time his brother looked even remotely happy to see him. He guessed he took too long because Sanemi throws his stuffed dog at his face and whines with as much anger his baby body can muster (he looks like a kicked puppy with his watery eyes, chubby cheeks and tiny bit of drool on the right corner of his mouth).

“Alright Nemi I'm right here, it's okay”. Genya reaches over the crib bars and picks Sanemi up. A happy coo comes out of the baby and his brother wipes his snot covered face with a blue rag. Rags and bibs were an absolute necessity when the trio was in baby mode or eating. Sanemi has a bit of a dribble problem, Obanai is always suckling on his pacifier or little mittens, and Giyuu… he's something else. Sanemi squeals and shoves his face in his brother's neck, smelling the smallest hint of gun powder and mint. Genya chuckles, “You're such a little dweeb” and bends over to pick up the stuffed animal his baby brother chucked at him. His brother babbles out what sounds like “You're a dweeb”.

Genya tucks the toy in Sanemi's arms and the boy screams in delight and babbles random unintelligible words. Genya caught maybe the word puppy and his name but you couldn't tell with the way Sanemi was shaking his head back and forth. Genya tickles his brother's side and soaks in all the happy laughter he gets as a response. The teen looks around the room for something to do before deciding to go to the comfy corner covered in pillows and blankets. It was made after Giyuu smacked his head on the floor trying to find a comfy spot to lay down. It also doubles as a playpen and calm down corner/time out corner which was very effective for the baby Genya was holding who was prone to meltdowns for whatever reason.  

Genya steps over the makeshift gate and settles in between the pillows and blankets with his brother on his lap. The babbles continued with Sanemi smacking the puppy on his big brothers tummy. Genya smiled softly at Sanemi smiling little face and sparkling eyes. “Be gentle Nemi, don't be mean to your puppy okay?” Sanemi crawled off Genya with a little pat to his puppy and picked up a dragon plush for Genya. Genya chuckled as he realized his brother wanted to play with stuffed animals. When his brother got like this he especially enjoyed playing pretend, it was really cute. “Alright Nemi, whats our little story?” Genya smiled as he sat up across from his brother with the dragon in his hand. 

The two played for what felt like hours and Sanemi began to yawn again. Genya wiped his mouth again and laid down with him. His baby brother laid on his chest sniffling softly with one arm curled around his puppy and a hand clutching his brother's clothes. Genya rubbed up and down Sanemi's back until his breathing slowed. “Goodnight Nemi, I love you so much…” Genya pressed a kiss to his brother's forehead before laying down to think about how his life had totally flipped on him.

Genya woke up to angry babbling and things being thrown at him. “Nemi what are you doing? Come here let's get you dressed and fed”. He stood up and cracked his back before turning towards a pouty and red faced Sanemi in the corner of the room, the puppy laid nearby. When Genya tried to pick Sanemi up, the boy exploded into angry babbles with hateful eyes. Genya sighed and left to go get Gyomei to calm his chihuahua of a baby brother. So much for bonding time. 

[wittlesissyb4by]

It was such a pathetic sight. Ryan was squishing in his chair, crinkling in his ridiculous diaper, and blowing raspberries between bites of mushy carrots.

I can’t believe how far he’s come, or, rather, how far he’s fallen. Ryan used to be a pompous, chauvinistic asshole who got a little too big for his own britches. If he wasn’t trying to  impress his holier than thou attitude upon anyone he could in public, he was doing it at home with me. I was beneath him. I was nothing but a 50’s housewife expected to cook, clean, and pick-up after him. Oh, and to be there to please his tiny dick for almost a full 30-seconds…

I was tired of it, sick of being nothing but a vending machine for him to call on, only to be left thankless and underappreciated. Things had to change.

So, I started off small, slipping various hormones and chemicals into the food I was ordered to cook for him every night. When he was sleeping, I’d put on a little hypnosis for him to listen to after I popped my earmuffs in. 

The effects were gradual at first. He started complaining about his nipples hurting. I’d find wet stains in his underwear, and he’d whimper and whine about the tiniest things (okay, maybe that wasn’t much different than before…). Soon I noticed him constantly needing to have something in his mouth. It started out with just his fingernails, then a toothpick, a plastic cap, and–when I started taking those away and he’d (literally) cry–he would resort to sucking his thumb.

He was actually giggling with delight when I brought home a pacifier. That was when things really started kicking in. He’d come home from work with wet underpants, and would wake up in soaking sheets. So, obviously, it was time for diapers. He protested at first, but soon I’d come into the living room to find him humping and crinkling on the floor, drooling all over his thumb. Where he used to bark at me to bring him a beer when he got home, he was now begging and pleading for a bottle of ‘milkies’ with his wittle baby voice.

He learned to address me as Mommy, to say ‘pweez’ and thank you for every little thing. He even agreed to let me bring home other guys. Real men for me to play with. There was a time where he’d try to act all macho in front of other men, now he’d get on his knees and suck their dick if I told him it was his ‘ba ba’ for the day.

He has no problem dressing like a girl, in fact, he kind of throws a fit if all his pink tutu’s and rompers are dirty and he has to wear a blue onesie. I used to let him hump his huggies as much as his little heart desired, I’d rather him pump his pitiful load into pampers instead of my pussy while I pretend to enjoy it–but then I took that away as well. He still whines and cries sometimes for me to let him out of his chastity cage for ‘cum cums’, but those are a thing of the past now.

It’s funny, he used to think he was so smart, he’d belittle everyone around him for not knowing the most random of facts. Now? He’s practically a braindead, bimbo baby. I mean, look at him. He’s blowing raspberries with muck in his mouth and drooling down his bib, smiling the whole time. He doesn’t seem to mind that he’s sitting in a heavily soiled diaper, in fact, he’s mushing around in it like a happy piggie playing in the mud.

I wonder if he understands that all of his money is now in my account. Sure, I’ll drop the hypnosis and send him out to work, only to make him snap back into it as soon as he’s home so I can tape him back in a diaper. Ryan–or Rylie–as she’s now called, is not even close to a man anymore. Her little dick is caged and diapered, right where it belongs. Now excuse me while I shovel more slop into her babbling mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a custom caption I did for one of my lovely supporters on SubStar! If you would like one of your very own, consider subscribing to the Silver tier or higher!

[cherhys]

Kiss the Cook(s)

Dad!Cassian x Reader

Summary: You come home after a long day to find a mess in the kitchen, but the joyous laughter and babble coming from that direction make up for it. 

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, mention of sex (direct/indirect)

Notes: Easing my way back into the writing world with a short and disgustingly sweet (with a little teasing ofc) piece. I can’t just come out swinging after a month of nothing (eek) y’know? I’ve been into spontaneous baking now that I’m home from uni and thus this baby was whipped up. Hope you didn’t miss me too much! xx

You rolled your neck as you stepped into the House of Wind, hoping to loosen the tension you amassed throughout the day. Today had been abysmal on every front—the Autumn Court was rejecting new terms you proposed as advisor of the Night Court, Mor was unsuccessful in Vallahan again, and the stack of papers on your desk seemed to grow taller regardless of how many you reviewed. A dull pain was beginning to throb behind your eyes. A nice, long soak with some lavender bath salts should do the—

A happy squeal punctured through the haze of your never-ending frustration. Had you imagined the sound? After the day you’ve had, hallucinations wouldn’t be so shocking, however, another bubbly gurgle reached your ears. Your smile was nearly immediate. You should’ve noticed the happily glowing light in your chest was particularly bright today. Sugary-smelling goodness flooded your senses like a balm to your fraying nerves. 

Your feet can’t carry you to the kitchen fast enough, excitement coursing through your veins. However, upon entering the kitchen, you ground to a halt, failing to process the scene before you. Your eyes don’t know where to look first. The kitchen was an absolute mess. Utensils and bowls covered every surface that wasn’t already splattered with various questionable ingredients. Your eyebrows raised at the– were those mashed potatoes on the counter? Frankly, you couldn’t tell, but the bulk of the mess covered your mate and baby girl. 

Your little girl was sitting in her high chair so she could reach the tall counter and was unceremoniously stirring some batter of sorts, though a good chunk of it now splattered the countertop. Miraculously, your daughter looked better than your mate did—various stains of egg, batter, butter and other ingredients cover Cassian. You’re pretty sure those were eggshells in his hair. The two look so happy, making whatever concoction of ingredients they’ve lumped together, so how could you be upset, even if flour had somehow made it to your high ceilings? Neither one had noticed you yet, and you took in the sweet sight as they giggled and played together. 

Cassian had put your daughter in her “Kiss the Cook” bib, a twin to his own apron. You dimly wondered if he had a shirt underneath as you couldn’t see any sleeves or collar. Your heart clenched at the sweet gaze he reserved only for your baby girl, his sure hand lifting to rub some batter on her button nose. Cassian bent closer, and your daughter shoved her chubby fist into the batter and smooshed it onto his stubbled jaw. You burst out laughing as he caught her hand in his mouth, and she gave a giddy squeal. 

Two sets of wide hazel eyes turned to look at you, first in shock and then with uncontained glee. They let out chorused cheers that only further fuelled your laughter. Their twin grins (you’ve always loved that your daughter got Cassian’s beaming smile, but Cauldron, your genetics were null) somehow get all the brighter. 

Your daughter made grabby hands at you, and you couldn’t help but coo and kiss her batter-laden cheeks. 

“Hello, my darlings.” You nuzzle into your babe’s supple neck, her hands grabbing listlessly at your clothing. 

“And what about my kiss?” Cassian pouted, pointing to his lips. You rolled your eyes at his antics, only for his kiss to render you breathless. His strong arms circled around you, pulling you into his warm embrace—no shirt it was, then. No matter how long you’d been mated, he never ceases to make it special; as if it’s the first kiss all over again. Your shoulders relax, and your heart flutters at the creeping smile you feel growing on Cassian’s face. He deepens the kiss before your daughter’s bubbly gurgles pull you away from one another.  

You don’t get far as Cassian’s arms tighten around you reassuringly, his thumb rubbing a comforting pattern into the curve of your hip. 

“What are you making?” You rested your head on his chest, the beat of his heart chipping away at your weariness with every steady ba-dump. He kissed your temple, knowing you must be nursing your headache. 

“Chocolate chip cookies.” His proud proclamation was met with happy babbles from your babe, as if she were also excited about the cookies she certainly couldn’t eat. 

You surveyed the virtually destroyed kitchen once more, “And baking cookies involves making a large enough mess that Nuala and Ceridwen will curse you for the next decade?”

Cassian shook his head in mock despair, the corners of his lips twitching up, “I’m afraid there are always casualties in battle, sweetheart.”

You babe loudly burbled and waved her tiny fist as if in agreement with her father. The babe had yet to speak, and she was already conspiring with her father against you. You sighed and reluctantly pulled yourself from Cassian’s loving embrace, tugging at his apron, “Well then, you could use all the help you can get, right General?”

The tender smile on his face morphed into something devious, his eyes darkening with mischief, “Depends on what you’re offering, sweetheart.” 

You swatted at his shoulder, an offended whine leaving his lips at the hit, “Not in front of our daughter. She can hear you.”

He opened his mouth, ready to retort that your babe was preoccupied with further splattering the batter she had her hands on, but you pulled him tightly to you. You leaned onto your tiptoes, turning your head to his ear as you languorously raked your nails down his exposed side, “You’re welcome to find out how much help I can be later, hmm, General?” 

He let loose a slow breath at your whispered sultry tone, his warrior training and your daughter being the only things stopping him from taking you on the counter. A slow smile bloomed across your face at the heated flare of arousal he unconsciously sent down the bond. Before he could respond, you coyly pulled away as if nothing had happened. You turned to your daughter, pinching her sweet cheeks, “Let’s finish these cookies, okay? I think all we need is the chocolate chips.”

Grabbing the bowl with what was left of the batter, you yelped as a loud smack came down on your ass. 

“Cassian!” You gasped and rubbed at your sore bum, your cheeks burning as you turned to your mate. Cassian simply gave you a meaningful side-long look that promised more of that later, as he bent to open a cabinet, the timbre of his voice impeccably nonchalant,  “Just the chocolate chips, right?”

You stared at him a beat longer, your daughter flapping her little wings clumsily in the silence as you absently smoothed over your surely reddening ass. Cassian raised a brow at you in challenge, and you bit your lip with a nod, “Yes, please.”

His faux-serious look melted into the face of a cock-sure male who knew he’d won as he began to root around in the cabinet. You huffed at his low chuckle, sending enough abrasive feelings down the bond to let him know what an insufferable ass he is. 

Loud slapping against the counter broke through the heavy tension in the air, your daughter demanding attention with a wobbling pout. You cooed at her antics, grabbing a towelette to gently wipe her chubby cheeks. You suppressed a sigh at the batter dried to her curls, thinking of the bath that had to happen after the cookies were done. 

As if reading your mind, Cassian hummed in thought, “I’ll have to give the little bat a good scrubbing.”

“It is your fault.” 

He pleadingly put his hands out, “Look at her! Of course I gave her the batter; you can’t say no to those eyes!”

You both turned to look at your babe, her face lighting up with a gummy smile as she cooed, dark lashes framing her doe eyes. You imperceptibly softened, and Cassian gave a boisterous laugh, “That’s my girl.”

He loudly clapped his hands and placed them on his hips, drawing your attention back to his tanned waist and the muscles peaking from behind the apron, “Alright! Let’s get these done so I can take my girls to bed since it's getting late.” 

His wolfish grin only spread as he noticed where your gaze was fixed, “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” 

Cassian deviously winked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his persistent ridiculousness, your cheeks pinking at having been caught staring.

Cassian tore open the chocolate chips, and you handed a silicone spatula to your daughter for her to teethe on. You both quickly fell into step with one another, seamlessly weaving to mix the batter, line the pans, and finish the treats. The warm, content feeling in your chest further grew as Cassian talked about his day, your babe’s happy chatter in the background. No amount of weariness from the long day at work could take away from the special moments with your family.

Final Notes: Girl dad Cassian >>>> Ugh, I want him so bad. Hope you like it <3

[ayu-stuff]

Go on, honey, throw your little tantrum. No, I don't care that she's here! She replaced you in my bedroom, so she might as well see how low you can fall. What's the matuuuur, stinkerbell? You don't wanna go to bed at 7pm?? How cute. Go on then, stomp, cry, wail, babble through your pacifier that you're suuuch a big giwl and that you don't need a dumb toddler bedtime!!! Show us how pathetic you are. I love seeing you all red-faced, wearing just your pampers and your stained bib. You're such a grown-up!

What's that smell, honeybunch? Did someone make poopies while throwing her babyish tantrum? Uh-oh!

[butterfwiesndinorawrs]

Oh my eeeeeps!!! All da eeepies!! 😍🧜‍♀️💖😁

So I has watchies dis n I am in loves!!!! 😍😍 My only complaint is there is not enuffs!!! Dey only 10 episides n dey just a few minutes each but.... Ariel is adowable! Her tail shimmers wiff her emotions! N baby Flounder is da cutest ever!!! I giggled all through dis little series.

🧜‍♀️🐠🧜‍♀️🐠🧜‍♀️🐠🧜‍♀️🐠🧜‍♀️🐠🧜‍♀️🐠🧜‍♀️🐠🧜‍♀️🐠🧜‍♀️

If no wants mini spoiler no reads any further!

She puts little skirts on her fin when is a party!!! Eeeps imagine wearing a tail n a princess gown in one!!!!

N Flounder wearing a bib is da most precious of all da fishie things I has ever seen.. Must pwotect baby Floundie!

At one point baby Floundie gets even more baby... he gets guppi-fied n my heart bout burst!!! Den he gets balooga-fied... he big big Floundie.. Poor Floundie, he groots at finding da twoubles 😅

N I leave you wiff a laughs...

How do yous get an octopus to laughs? Yous give it ten-tickles.. hehe 🐙

Also... if yous made it dis far tank yous for listening to da baby babbles but also.. go watchies dis show! I pwomise is worths it! 😍🧜‍♀️💖🐠😁

[adultbabystories]

Daddy talks - Part E

Pleasure flows through your whole body, leaving you melted over Daddy’s lap. Your whole being is in his grace, having you leaking pre cum and saliva all over. Babbling funny words behind your pacifier while he hits your prostate repeatedly. You don’t have an orgasm in the traditional sense, but waves of sexual energy go through you. You are his boy, he is your daddy.

He stops and caries you to bed. He flops you to your stomach, giving you a giant plushie to hold.

“Hug him, he’s your friend now.” he says.

You hold the bear tight, his fur close to your skin, making you hot.

“Lift your head.” he says as he wraps a bib around your neck and leaves it under your chin like he was protecting the bed from something you might eat and spill.

Naked, just a bib around your neck, you are laying on the bed, holding a plushie. You don’t see daddy but you feel the bed rocking as he climbs on it. You hear lube pouring into his hands and feel it creeping into your hole. Again and again, he’s hitting your sweet spot, making you not only make the bedding sticky but also your new bib, dripping saliva from over-sucking the pacifier.

Daddy moves on the bed, and you suddenly see him just at your side, his knees towards your eyes, high as a mountain, naked. As he takes care of your hole, his huge cock became erected more and more. His right hand keeps going in your rear end, and his left plops out your pacifier. Your chin is dripping as you look up, looking into his eyes and his huge cock in between.

“Baby needs something new to suck on? SUCK!” he commands and inserts another finger into your warm hole.

You latch onto his hard dick, sucking it as hard as you can. Saliva and sweat drip on your colorful babyish bib.