#Baby Milk Bottle Sterilizer
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The Way For Hygienic Infant Care
Baby Milk Bottle Sterilizer emerges as a crucial component, providing parents with a practical and effective solution for ensuring the hygiene and safety of feeding equipment. From its role in preventing microbial contamination to its user-friendly design, and its impact on promoting a clean and healthy feeding environment for babies.
At the heart of the Baby Milk Bottle Sterilizer lies its core functionality in prioritizing the health of infants. This innovative device employs advanced sterilization methods, such as steam or UV light, to eliminate harmful bacteria, viruses, and other pathogens that may linger on baby bottles and accessories.
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Monitoring Your Baby's Bath Temperature: The Bath Thermometer
1. Comfort and Safety for Your Baby: The Wooden Cot NZ
When it comes to providing a safe and cozy sleeping space for your little one, the choice of a crib is paramount. The wooden cot nz offered by Baby By is a popular and reliable option for parents in New Zealand. Crafted from sturdy, sustainable wood, this cot ensures your baby's comfort while adhering to the highest safety standards. Let's explore the key features that make this wooden cot a top choice for parents.
One of the standout features of the Wooden Cot NZ is its durable construction. Made from high-quality wood sourced from sustainable forests, this cot is designed to withstand the test of time. The sturdy build ensures the cot remains stable and secure, providing a safe sleeping environment for your baby.
2. Monitoring Your Baby's Bath Temperature: The Bath Thermometer
Bathing a newborn can be nerve-wracking, especially for new parents concerned about getting the water temperature just right. The bath thermometer offered by Baby By takes away the guesswork, providing an easy and accurate way to monitor the water temperature during bath time.
The Bath Thermometer is designed with safety in mind. It features a user-friendly interface that displays the water temperature clearly, allowing you to adjust it to a comfortable and safe level for your baby. No more worrying about water that's too hot or too cold!
3. Supporting Mothers' Comfort: The diaper bag nz
Pregnancy can take a toll on a mother's body, particularly when it comes to getting a good night's sleep. The diaper bag nz by Baby By is specifically designed to provide much-needed support and comfort to baby.
The diaper bag nz is crafted with a unique shape that conforms to the contours of the baby body, providing support for the belly, back, and hips.
4. Embracing Parenthood with Baby By
Baby By is more than just a brand; it's a commitment to supporting parents throughout their journey into parenthood. From carefully crafted cribs and bath essentials to pregnancy comfort products, Baby By focuses on providing quality items that promote the well-being of both babies and parents.
What sets Baby By apart is its dedication to safety and sustainability. The wooden cot NZ is an embodiment of this commitment, ensuring that your baby sleeps in a secure and eco-friendly environment. The brand's bath thermometer offers peace of mind during bath time, and the maternity pillow NZ assists mothers in finding comfort during pregnancy and beyond.
In conclusion, Baby By's wooden cot NZ, bath thermometer, and maternity pillow NZ are essential products for new parents in New Zealand. With a focus on safety, comfort, and support, these items are thoughtfully designed to make the journey into parenthood smoother and more enjoyable for both parents and babies.
Visit our website for more beautiful and comforting baby products.
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Here is a wonderful little story A young cashier told an older woman that she should bring her grocery bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment. The woman apologized, "We didn't have this green thing back in my day." The young clerk said, "Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations." She gave him a firm stare and a hard grin and said “Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles, and beer bottles. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over. They were recycled. Grocery stores bagged our groceries in brown paper bags, which we reused for numerous things. We walked upstairs because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. Back then, we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throwaway kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy-gobbling machine burning up 220 volts -- wind and solar power did dry our clothes back in our day. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. The TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief, not a screen the size of the state of Montana. In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded-up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades with a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. Back then, people took a bus and kids rode their bikes instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 23,000 miles in space to find the nearest burger joint. But the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn't have the green thing.” The cashier stood there still and quiet as the old lady found her wallet to pay. Then lady turned to leave but stepped back and turned toward the cashier. She said “You have a world of knowledge in that little device in your hand. Pity you just use it to gossip, take pictures, and waste time. It would do you good to search a bit of history before you embarrass yourself like this again. Forward this to another selfish old person who needs a lesson in conservation from a smart-ass young person.
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Back in the day!
Anyone age approx 35 or over should read this - copied from a friend ... Checking out at the supermarket recently, the young cashier suggested I should bring my own bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment. I apologised and explained, "We didn't have this green thing back in my earlier days". the cashier responded, "That's our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations".
She was right about one thing--our generation didn't have the green thing in “Our” day. So what did we have back then? After some reflection and soul-searching on "Our" day here's what I remembered we did have.... Back then, we returned milk bottles, pop bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles repeatedly. So they really were recycled. But we didn't have the green thing back in our day.
We walked up stairs, because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. But she was right. We didn't have the green thing in our day.
Back then, we washed the baby's nappies because we didn't have the throw-away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 240 volts -- wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. But that young lady is right. We didn't have the green thing back in our day.
Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Wales. In the kitchen, we blended & stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn petrol just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. But she's right. We didn't have the green thing back then.
We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. But we didn't have the green thing back then.
Back then, people took the bus, and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their mums into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 2,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest pizza joint. But isn't it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we older folks were just because we didn't have the green thing back then?
Please post this on your blog so another selfish old person who needs a lesson in conservation from a smarty-pants young person can read this!
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Lancaster Labor IX
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII
Ruby: So I know I kinda made it seem like breastfeeding was going smoother a while ago, and for a while, it did. I mean, my nipples got tougher, and I started falling into a routine, but to be honest, it still wasn't going really great. I still had to breastfeed every three hours, and then I had to measure her, and then I had to make up for the weight with formula. Then I had to wash the bottles, sterilize them, do my chores and then, ONLY THEN, could I find the time to relax! Finally get some rest...
Ruby: (Baby crying) WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S BEEN THREE HOURS ALREADY?!
Ruby: I get anemic from the feeding because my body produces the milk, my joints hurt because of my mommy hormones, and my vagina STILL hasn't fully healed yet! It's starting to feel like I got the raw end of the deal!
Ruby: I remember thinking motherhood would feel like a dream. Like, I'd be the picture-perfect image of a mother, with beautiful, almost angelic hair as my baby laid calmly against my breast. Instead, I look like something Zwei pulled out from the garden and my baby is sucking on my boob like she's a vacuum nozzle!
Ruby: At least I have Jaune here to help me out. I couldn't imagine going it alone like some mothers out there! They're way stronger than I ever could be!
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Jaune: I'm gonna get started on dinner, so why don't you take a break?
Ruby: Thank you~! (Flops onto the bed) Finally... Rest...
Ruby: Hm?
Ruby: (Looks in the mirror, Robe open)
Ruby: (Thinking) When did I start looking like a mammal?.
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Ruby: It only got worse, too. At some point, she started getting fussy about feeding, and she'd only drink from one nipple! But things really changed when I started feeling sick. Jaune said,
Jaune: Maybe you should take a break until you feel better.
Ruby: And so I did, and I was out for, like two whole weeks! Two weeks without my baby latching onto me and suddenly, she's too used to drinking from the bottle now! I mean, I was already going halfway with how little I was making myself, but to think that all my hard work would be for nothing!
Ruby: But she'd have to start nursery school soon, so it was time for us to start weaning. We gave it one last try on me, and then we were done. And I'd just gotten used to the feeling of breastfeeding, too.
Ruby: A huge part of me started to break. It really felt like the two of us were really connecting, and now it's gone. It's so sad, that... I started crying. And I couldn't stop for a whole week. Until...
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Ruby: YAAAAAHOOOOOOOO~!
Ruby: I CAN GO OUT AGAIN~!
Ruby: I CAN SLEEP AGAIN~!
Ruby: MY BOOBIES AND MY JOINTS DON'T HURT ANYMORE~!
Ruby: I'M SO GLAD WE WEANED~! (Eating her weight in whatever she wants)
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BONUS!
Ruby was recommended by her friends to use nipple ointment containing lanolin, which is a fluid produced by sheep to condition their wool. Unfortunately, Ruby couldn't find any nearby, so she used horse oil instead.
Ruby's Nipple - Battered, Bruied, Licked by horse and not sheep
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SSR Lilia Vanrouge Dorm Uniform Personal Story: Part 2
"I'm a pro!"
(Part 1) Part 2 (Part 3)
[Diasomnia Dorm – Lounge]
Sebek: …I've finished tending to the bat's wings.
Silver: That's well done, Sebek. Next is… Feeding it? It's still a baby, should we lay it down?
Sebek: It would have been better if this were an animal that could bark or meow. I cannot hear the ultrasonic waves this one emits whatsoever.
Lilia: True if only it did what a human baby would do…
Lilia: It'd be easier to understand if it'd cry to drink some milk, or to change its diaper.
Lilia: But there's no need to worry. While I heal up its injuries, I'll also raise it up nice and proper.
Lilia: So, that means it's time to feed it! The more it eats, the quicker its injuries will heal.
Lilia: Sebek, prepare me some milk to feed it with.
Sebek: Yessir, I will do just that.
Malleus: Sebek sure is late. What could possibly be keeping him?
Silver: I shall go check on hi… Ah, he's just returned.
Sebek: Apologies for making everyone wait!
Sebek: I did not expect it to take this long… Those Heartslabyul students are so aggravating.
Silver: You went all the way to Heartslabyul? Why in the world…
Sebek: OBVIOUSLY TO GATHER POWDERED MILK FORMULA FOR SMALL CRITTERS!!
Malleus: Small critters… Ah, that's right, Heartslabyul keeps hedgehogs.
Sebek: That's precisely it, Malleus-sama.
Lilia: You're so meticulous, Sebek. All you had to do was microwave the milk in the microwave.
Sebek: Oh… Is that right?
Lilia: Well, Sebek's unexpectedly brought us a nice thing. Let's be grateful to him and use it.
Sebek: Y-Yessir. Please take this.
Sebek: I've already mixed together the powdered milk like the instructions on the box said to.
Sebek: Ordinarily, it seems a sterilized baby bottle should be leveraged here, but I wasn't able to procure one… For now, I made it in a mug.
Silver: This bat is still pretty small, even a bottle may be difficult for it. Perhaps we should use a dropper instead.
Sebek: Hm, that's not a terrible suggestion, coming from you. It cannot be helped. I'll go find some of those…
Lilia: Here, drink up ♪
Sebek/Silver: EH!?
Silver: He just used the mug…
Sebek: STRAIGHT FROM THE MUG!!!???
Lilia: Why are you so shocked? Neither of you use a straw when you drink from a mug, now do you?
Silver: No, that's not what I…! I just thought there would be an issue trying to feed a small animal milk like this…
Lilia: I guess you don't remember anything from when you were a wee babe.
Lilia: Actually, this is how you would drink your milk in the past, you know?
Sebek/Silver: HAH!?
Silver: Father... That was a joke just now, right?
Malleus: …No, it was no joke.
Malleus: It cannot be denied that Lilia would feed the newborn Silver milk from a mug.
Silver: I… I had no idea.
Lilia: Seeing this little guy ravenously gulp down the milk reminds me of when Silver was little…
Lilia: I could never get enough of seeing how adorably you'd guzzle down your milk into that tiny body.
Malleus: Although each time, his face would be completely covered in milk…
Sebek/Silver: Sigh…
Lilia: Oh, it drank all the milk. It must have been very hungry.
Sebek: I cannot believe it drank the milk directly from the mug like that… This bat is quite bold.
Malleus: Lilia, the bat is covered in milk. Its whole body is white now.
Lilia: Oh no. I should clean it off.
Silver: Sebek, is there still water remaining from when you made the milk earlier?
Sebek: Yes, although it's probably cooled down by now… Oh, you're thinking of using it to wipe down the bat's body.
Sebek: Then we'll need to use gauze or cotton swaps as…
Lilia: It's fine, it's fine! There's no need!
[wipe, wipe!]
Silver: F-Father! Are you wiping the spilled milk with your sleeve!?
Lilia: Yep. It just needs to be wiped up, right?
Sebek: But then your dorm uniform will become filthy!
Lilia: It's alright. I have plenty of sleeve-length to go around, so there's enough to use to wipe it off.
Sebek: That's not what I mean…
[wipe, wipe!]
Silver: Hm… Do you think that may be a little too forceful of a wipe?
Lilia: Is it? Well, at least it will warm its body up.
Lilia: This is better than leaving it cold! Think of it like I'm rubbing it with a dry towel or something. Though I can't say I'm that familiar with that either.
[wipe, wipe! wipe, wipe!!]
Malleus: This exact scene… It reminds me of whenever Lilia would bathe Silver back then.
Silver: So, what that means is… I was also…
Sebek: Silver… It's astounding you were raised to this point safely.
Silver: Right. I am deeply thankful that I am able to stand here now.
Lilia: …Alright, done. Well, when I take a look at you like this, little one, I can sense such a distinguished air about you.
Sebek/Silver: …
Lilia: Silver, Sebek. You two look like you want to say something.
Silver: Ah, no… Only, well, the bat is still just a child. I was thinking it may be better to take a little better care of it…
Lilia: Hm… I get where you're coming from. However, it's not good to be overprotective, either.
Sebek/Silver: ?
Lilia: When it comes to raising a child, you have to be a little easygoing, too.
(Part 1) Part 2 (Part 3)
#twisted wonderland#twst#lilia vanrouge#malleus draconia#sebek zigvolt#twst lilia#twst malleus#twst sebek#twst silver#twst translation
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I just wish the “Breast is best!!!” “Fed is bare minimum!!!” “You’re lazy if you don’t breastfeed!!!” lactivists would realize four things:
1. Studies that show breastfed babies grow up to be smarter and healthier than formula babies are biased and don’t account for other factors such as wealth, mother’s education level, hours the mother works or doesn’t work outside of the house per week, etc. Studies that compare between siblings who are exclusively breastfed and exclusively formula-fed and thus growing up otherwise under the exact same conditions show there isn’t a developmental or health difference between the two. At most, formula babies are slightly more likely to get ear infections or rashes, but that’s nothing compared to some people’s fears of formula-fed babies getting deadly strains of the flu or whatever.
2. The whole idea that a “good mother” should be exclusively breastfeeding her baby is a very privileged take. Not every mom can produce enough milk supply no matter what she tries. A lot—if not most—moms these days can’t afford the luxury of staying home all day with the baby and offering the breast for feeds, and despite anti-discrimination laws surrounding the right to pump at work, many workplaces still don’t provide adequate accommodations for pumping, leading many working moms to feel there’s no choice but to just throw in the towel and switch to formula.
3. Baby formula—in the US, anyway, I don’t know about how it is in other countries—is tightly regulated, meaning every single brand sold on store shelves is required to provide specific nutrients in specific amounts, and the recipes are designed to nutritionally resemble breastmilk as closely as possible. Even the moms who decide to formula feed for no reason other than, “I just don’t feel like breastfeeding,” are ensuring their babies receive all the nutrients they need to grow. No one is neglecting their child solely based on how they choose to feed when the choice is between breast and formula.
4. A more minor point, but on the “Formula moms are lazy!!!” take, there ain’t no way you’re telling me a continuous cycle of feeding the baby and cleaning/sterilizing the bottles is “laziness,” nor is having to lug around formula and bottled water and bottles ready to use when you’re out and about with the baby. Just…get real for a second, lmao.
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Ostara Fairy Cakes with Pistachios & Rose Buttercream
These rose & pistachio mini Ostara fairy cakes give any Ostara tea party a fairytale vibe.
Serve these on your porch with some tea or take your cakes into the woodlands and make your Spring Equinox celebration magical with a picnic in a forest setting.
Tie on an apron, and let’s get started.
Ingredient Correspondences and Kitchen Witch Facts
The crucial ingredients in this recipe for Ostara fairy cakes symbolize key aspects of Ostara, the first spring holiday on the Wheel of the Year.
Pistachios
Ruled by Element of Earth, pistachios nourish life and ground us in the present moment.
Crack open a pistachio and peel back the paper-thin skin. Underneath it, the bright green color of a shelled pistachio resembles the bright green of tender grass shoots and baby leaves emerging from the trees.
This shade of green symbolizes new beginnings and the early spring awakening of growth and renewal.
Lemon
We use the fresh, cleansing scent and flavor of lemons in witchcraft to clear negative energy and refresh the mind.
In this recipe, the sunny yellow color of lemons is a sun symbol and represents the growing of the light into the spring and summer months.
Rosewater
Although we generally think of roses as a component of love spells, in this case they symbolize dreams and good luck.
Spring is a season for imagining what is possible.
Add roses to your Ostara fairy cakes to weave the magic of hope and inspiration into your kitchen witch spells.
Making Rosewater
If you don’t have any rosewater on hand, it’s extremely easy to make.
I used the following method.
Strip the petals from the stems of organic-grade roses. Rinse them under cool water to remove any dirt or debris.
Place roses in a pot of spring water.
Bring to a low simmer until rose petals lose most of their color.
Allow to cool completely. Strain the petals and store the extract in a sterilized glass jar in the refrigerator.
Pairings
Serve these delightful little Ostara fairy cakes with any of the following:
Purple Fairy Cocktail With Butterfly Peaflowers
Spring Fruit Salad
Pear Berry Goddess Bowls
Sweet & Spicy Roasted Nut Mix
Or keep it simple, and set these out with a bowl of strawberries, some nuts and a bottle of champagne.
Ingredients
For the cakes:
-1.5 cups flour
-3/4 cup pistachios, shelled
-1 teaspoon salt
-2 teaspoons baking powder
-1/2 tablespoon cinnamon
-2 eggs
-1 cup sugar
-1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
-3/4 cup milk
-1/4 cup rosewater
For the buttercream frosting:
-1/2 cup (1 stick) butter at room temp
-juice of 1/2 lemon
-1 tablespoon rosewater
-2 cups confectioners sugar
Step 1
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line muffin tins with paper liners.
In a blender or food processor, pulse shelled pistachios until they form a coarse powder.
Combine powder pistachios with flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt in a small bowl.
Step 2
In a separate bowl, mix eggs, sugar, butter, milk and 1/4 cup rosewater.
Stir together wet ingredients with dry until smooth.
Divide evenly among cupcake tins.
Bake for 14-18 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean.
Step 3
While cupcakes are baking, make the frosting.
Cream together butter and sugar.
Add rosewater and lemon juice.
Once cupcakes are completely cooled, frost cupcakes. Optionally, garnish with lemon zest, crushed pistachios and/or (affiliate link —–>) dried, edible tea roses.
Serve and enjoy! Happy Ostara!
Source: https://www.moodymoons.com/2021/03/20/ostara-fairy-cakes-with-pistachios-rose-buttercream/
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The worst Salesman
Steve's thumb lodged in his mouth—a feeble shield against the ridicule—muffled the sounds of his colleagues' stifled gasps and whispers. The white walls of the office seemed to close in on him as he stood swaddled in humiliation, the nappy crinkling with every slight movement. His mind raced with a silent plea for someone, anyone, to protest the absurdity of it all, but the threat hung heavy in the air; any act of defiance would only drag others into this infantile purgatory.
He'd never felt more childlike, nor more alone.
The Regression Room loomed ahead, its door ajar like the maw of some beast ready to swallow what little dignity he had left. He shuffled forward, led by the stern grip of protocol rather than choice, his bare feet cold against the linoleum floor, each step a stark reminder of his utter defeat by the quarterly performance metrics.
Inside, the room was furnished with objects that mocked adulthood—oversized building blocks, stuffed animals staring blankly from their perches, and in the center, a maternal figure seated with an expectancy that churned Steve's stomach. She patted her lap, beckoning him closer with a gesture both gentle and inevitable.
"Come here, Stevie," she cooed, her voice soothing yet laced with an authoritative edge that brokered no argument.
He approached, the gaze of his coworkers burning into his back, each of them silently grateful it wasn't them. The woman opened her arms, enveloping him in her embrace as he lowered himself onto her lap. The warmth of her body contrasted sharply with the cool touch of the nappy against his skin. She reached for a baby bottle filled with lukewarm milk, bringing it to his lips.
"Drink up," she whispered, tilting the bottle. "It's all part of the process."
Steve's eyes locked onto the fluorescent lights above, bright and sterile, as he tasted the sweetness of the milk. Swallowing his pride proved harder than swallowing the liquid, but as the warm draft filled his mouth, he realized resistance was futile. This was his reality now, his punishment for failure—an infantilization designed to ensure obedience through shame.
And so, under the watchful eyes of those he once considered peers, Steve suckled, each gulp a surrender to the bizarre theatre of corporate discipline.
The last drops of milk clung to Steve's lips as the woman set aside the bottle and rose from her seat, her hand gently guiding him to stand. His cheeks flamed hotter than the nappy chafing his waist, a stark reminder that he was exposed and vulnerable.
"Time for your next lesson," she announced, a gleam in her eye that foretold further humiliation.
Steve shuffled awkwardly on his feet, the nappy crinkling with each movement. The room hushed as though the air itself stilled in anticipation. From somewhere unseen, a tinny melody began to play—a nursery rhyme that mocked the seriousness of Steve's adult life.
"Sing along, Stevie," the woman encouraged, tapping a rhythm on her thigh.
His throat was dry, a desert compared to the sea of milk he'd just consumed. Yet, he felt compelled by some invisible force, a need to comply that overrode his inner protests. He opened his mouth, and out came the words, feeble and off-key, "Twinkle, twinkle, little star..."
Laughter rippled through the office like a wave crashing against the shore. But the woman's unyielding gaze held him in place, making clear that there would be no respite. As if possessed, Steve found himself swaying, arms flailing in an approximation of dance, while his colleagues looked on—some with smirks, others with eyes averted, all thankful it was not them in the spotlight of degradation.
"Very good, now let’s add some movement. More than just dancing," she pushed, her tone insistent yet bizarrely nurturing.
"Head, shoulders, knees, and toes," she sang, demonstrating each touch with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Join in, Stevie."
With limbs that felt like lead, Steve mirrored her actions, touching each body part as he named them. The nappy seemed to weigh him down, a physical representation of his shame, yet he persevered. "Head, shoulders, knees, and toes," he chanted, voice barely a whisper, focusing on the repetition as if it were a lifeline amidst a stormy sea.
"Knees and toes!" the woman sang louder, prompting him to bend lower, utterly infantilized before the collective gaze of the office.
"Again!" she commanded. And he complied, again and again, until his legs wobbled, and his spirit begged for reprieve. It was not the complexity of the task but the simplicity that cut deepest, reducing him to nothing more than a spectacle—a grown man, a professional, made to perform the rudimentary actions of a child.
Steve knew this was only the beginning, the opening act in a play designed to reshape and remind: here, in this corporate world, one's standing could be as fleeting as the innocence of youth.
The clatter of a plastic spoon against a bowl echoed mockingly in the sterile room as Steve was hoisted into the high chair. The straps cinched around his waist, a false sense of security as the tray clicked into place before him. A bib—garishly patterned with cartoon animals—was tied around his neck, the fabric chafing against his skin like a noose of humiliation.
"Open up for the airplane," cooed the woman, her voice dripping with feigned cheerfulness. She held a spoonful of mushy peas aloft, navigating it through an imaginary flight path. Steve's lips pressed tight, a futile barricade against the impending assault. But resistance only served to prolong the ordeal. With a firm grip on his chin, she pried his mouth open and deposited the pasty green slop onto his tongue.
Gag reflexes kicked in, but Steve forced himself to swallow, the bland puree coating his throat. Another spoonful approached, this time colliding messily with his cheek, smearing pea residue across his face. The air was thick with the scent of overcooked vegetables, each breath a reminder of his current state—an adult man reduced to an infant's feeding time spectacle.
"Isn't this fun?" she sang out, oblivious—or indifferent—to his discomfort.
Steve's eyes watered, not from the taste, but from the indignity. He had been many things in his life: an employee, a competitor, a peer. But now, he was nothing more than a messy toddler, smeared with food, his agency stripped as cleanly as his dignity.
The feeding continued, relentless. Peas painted his features, dribbles of orange carrot puree joining the verdant mess. With each spoonful, his will crumbled, leaving him hollow, a shell of the man who once walked confidently through the office doors.
Finally, the woman set aside the empty bowls, her maternal facade never slipping. "All done!" she declared, as if praising a child. Steve remained motionless, the remnants of the meal clinging to him like the shadows of his former self.
The transition from high chair to changing mat was swift, the woman's practiced hands stripping away the soiled nappy with an efficiency that belied the intimacy of the act. Steve laid bare, exposed in a way that transcended the physical; every inch of him scrutinized, not just by the woman but by the unseen audience beyond the walls. They were always there, he could feel them, their silent judgment weighing on him like the damp air of the room.
Warm water cascaded over him, a gentle touch amidst the harshness of his reality. The woman worked methodically, wiping away the layers of defilement—the food, the sweat, the visceral proof of his regression. As she cleaned, she hummed softly, a lullaby meant for the innocent, not for the shamed.
A fresh nappy enveloped him, the soft material a stark contrast to the hard truth of his situation. He was being reset, swaddled in synthetic cotton and secured with adhesive tabs, a parody of care and comfort.
"Shh, it's nap time," the woman whispered, her hands gently rocking his hips, mimicking the motions one might use to soothe a restless infant. Her voice rose and fell in lilting melodies, songs of simplicity and safety, a world away from boardrooms and balance sheets.
Steve closed his eyes, not in sleep but in resignation. The childish tunes enveloped him, a blanket woven from threads of mockery and disdain. Here he lay, a grown man lulled by nursery rhymes, his professional façade replaced with the most primal of human states: vulnerability.
He drifted, not into dreams, but into a void where his accomplishments, his ambitions, his very identity seemed distant memories, overshadowed by the stark, unyielding demands of the Regression Room.
The warmth spread beneath him, an undeniable signal of his loss of control. It seeped into the fabric of the nappy, a creeping dampness that clawed at what little dignity Steve had managed to cling to in his slumber. His eyelids fluttered open to a room blurred by the mortification of his condition. He rolled onto his side, gaze meeting the expanse of glass that revealed the bustling office beyond.
"Aw, did someone have an accident?" The voice, sickly sweet with false sympathy, cut through the thick air of humiliation as the woman approached from behind. Steve remained silent, feeling the cool rush of air as his soiled nappy was undone and peeled away from his skin, leaving him exposed and vulnerable before the window.
"Let's get you cleaned up," she cooed, her hands efficient and impersonal as they wiped him down. Each stroke of the cleansing wipe against his skin was a stark reminder of the infantile state he'd been reduced to. She lifted his legs, carelessly turning him so that his bareness faced the transparent barrier between him and his colleagues, who pretended not to notice while stealing furtive glances.
With practiced ease, she slid a fresh nappy under him, fastening it snugly around his waist. "All clean, baby," she pronounced with a pat on the padded exterior, signaling the end of his momentary reprieve from degradation.
"Time to show everyone what a good little boy you can be," she said, prompting Steve to lower himself onto his hands and knees. His movements were hesitant, the rustling of the nappy a constant reminder of his predicament. As he began to crawl across the carpeted floor of the office, the air filled with the soft, condescending sounds of his coworkers' coos and giggles.
"Isn't he just adorable?" one sneered as Steve approached. Another added mockingly, "Such a brave little man."
At each desk, Steve paused, the ritual humiliation etched into every line of his body. With a heavy heart, he performed the demeaning act expected of him, pressing his lips against the clothed sides of their hips, murmuring apologies that tasted bitter on his tongue. Their laughter followed him, a cacophony of mockery that underscored his shame.
"Sorry," he whispered over and over, the word stripped of meaning and filled instead with the weight of his disgrace. Each apology was met with pats on the head or a teasing pinch of his nappy, reinforcing his regression.
Steve felt his identity slipping further away with each submissive gesture, replaced by the persona of the chastised child they demanded he embody. The office became a theater, and he the unwilling performer upon its stage.
Forced to his feet, the nappy crinkling with each trembling step, Steve faced the corner of the office. The eyes of his colleagues bore into him like spotlights on a stage of humiliation. He began to twerk awkwardly, the movements foreign and exaggerated. Laughter erupted around him, a cruel symphony accompanying his forced dance.
"Keep going, Stevie," taunted a voice from behind. His muscles ached; he was not made for this juvenile display. But as soon as he hesitated, a sharp spank landed on the padded barrier of the nappy, reigniting his mortified jig. "Don't stop now," the same voice commanded, "bend lower."
Steve complied, his cheeks burning hotter than the sting on his behind. He bent his knees further, sticking out his rear in a caricature of the dance meant to amuse toddlers, not grown men. He could feel the heat of scrutiny as if it were the sun against his skin, every snicker a needle pricking at his dwindled pride.
"Enough," finally came the word, and Steve almost sagged with relief until he realized what was next. "Time to hop back, little froggy." The order was given with glee, and Steve's heart sank. Turning from the corner, he caught glimpses of smirks and barely-concealed laughter.
Each hop was a jolt of shame, the nappy chafing against his skin with every movement. He tried to focus on the soft carpet beneath him, the way it muffled his clumsy hops, but it offered no comfort. The room seemed to stretch on endlessly, each hop a leap through molasses as time slowed to a crawl. The mocking chorus of ribbits followed him, urging him forward, back to the regression room that had become his personal theater of absurdity.
"Look at him go, the stinky little froggy," someone jeered, and a chorus of others joined in, their words pushing him toward the inevitable conclusion of his journey across the office floor. With one final hop, Steve reached the door, his dignity left tattered in the wake of his puerile performance.
Steve's legs folded beneath him as he was unceremoniously plopped onto the carpeted floor of the regression room. Around him lay a scattered array of baby toys: glossy plastic dinosaurs, sparkling Barbie dolls with their hair in eternal disarray, and a set of musical instruments designed for the smallest of hands. He reached for a shaker, the hollow plastic sound it made echoing mockingly in the silence that had fallen over the onlookers. The manager, standing just outside the open door, wore a grin so wide it seemed to split his face in two.
"Music time for baby Steve!" the manager announced, clapping his hands in delight. Steve's fingers trembled around the shaker, each shake a jarring reminder of his infantilized state. He rattled the toy with forced vigor, trying to ignore the swell of humiliation that threatened to choke him. The irony of it all stung; once a respected colleague, now reduced to this charade, providing amusement like a court jester of old.
The din of plastic percussion filled the room as Steve added to the cacophony with a tinny tambourine, his motions robotic, his eyes downcast. Through the haze of his own degradation, Steve noticed the manager nodding approvingly, as if Steve were a toddler taking his first steps rather than a grown man stripped of his autonomy.
"Bravo, bravo!" the manager exclaimed, clapping again. The praise was a poison, corroding what little self-respect Steve had managed to cling onto. But the ordeal was far from over.
"Time to get creative, Stevie!" the manager chirped as he handed Steve a thick coloring book and a box of crayons. "Draw us a lovely picture of the office. Make it colorful!"
Obediently, Steve flipped open the coloring book to an empty page, the smell of wax filling his nostrils as he selected a crayon at random. His hand moved across the paper, the stick figure-like renditions of desks, computers, and filing cabinets taking form, a crude mockery of the corporate world he once navigated with ease. His once precise hands, accustomed to tapping out reports and crafting emails, now scribbled childishly within the lines.
"Isn't it beautiful?" someone cooed sarcastically as Steve put the finishing touches on his drawing—a bright yellow sun in the corner with a smiley face. The manager snatched the book away and held it up for all to see, the bright colors a stark contrast to the sterile office environment.
"Everyone, gather round!" the manager called out. Reluctant bodies shuffled closer, their faces etched with a mixture of pity and discomfort. Steve stood next to his artwork, which was now taped to the wall for all to view. Cameras flashed, capturing this moment of abject embarrassment for posterity.
"Smile, Steve!" they encouraged, and under the weight of their stares, he attempted a grimace that barely passed for a smile. Cheers erupted, not for a job well done, but for the spectacle he had become.
"Say 'regressed!'" a voice shouted from the back as another photo was snapped, immortalizing Steve's lowest point amidst laughter and jeering that would echo in his mind long after the day's performance concluded.
The manager's grip was firm on Steve's arm, guiding him inexorably toward the desk of the coworker he had once hoped to impress with a well-crafted report or a sharp insight during a meeting. Such aspirations seemed galaxies away now as he was laid down unceremoniously on her workspace, the soft crinkle of his nappy juxtaposed against the hard surface of the desk.
"Sorry about this, Janine," the manager said with mock sincerity as she peeled back the adhesive tabs of the nappy. Steve's cheeks flamed red, hotter than any blush he'd ever felt before. He couldn't meet Janine's eyes, instead focusing on a paperclip holder next to her keyboard.
"Ugh, eww stinky stinky baby!" Janine exclaimed, her voice laced with forced humor to mask her discomfort. She fanned her nose dramatically and pushed her chair back just enough to maintain the pretense of keeping her distance without actually leaving her post.
With practiced motions, the manager wiped Steve down, the cold touch of the baby wipes making him flinch. There was a clinical detachment to the way she handled the clean-up, dusting him with baby powder and applying sudocream with an efficiency that made it all the more humiliating for Steve.
"Almost done," the manager cooed, as if soothing a genuine infant rather than a grown man subjected to ritual humiliation. Janine kept her gaze on her computer monitor, typing furiously as if the clacking of keys could drown out the reality unfolding beside her.
Steve lay there, exposed and vulnerable, the scent of the baby products mingling with the sterile office air. He understood the unspoken threat – if Janine left her seat, she'd be next. It was this knowledge that kept her rooted in place, her occasional exaggerated grimaces and cries of "Stinky!" serving as her contribution to the spectacle.
Finally, the manager secured a fresh nappy around Steve, patting his hip with a finality that signaled the end of this particular act. "All clean," she declared, her voice too bright, too loud. Steve's skin crawled beneath the snug fit of the nappy, the powder's silkiness a taunting reminder of his abasement.
Janine's relief was palpable as the manager hoisted Steve off her desk, but her expression remained professionally neutral, save for the quick wrinkling of her nose as she swiveled back to face her computer screen fully. Steve couldn't help but notice the slight tremor in her fingers as they resumed their dance across the keys.
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The Changeling Chapter 2
AO3
She falls asleep by the fire, leaning against the strength of her husband. She wakes with a start at the feeling of the wee one’s mouth on her nipple. She had bundled him, against her bare skin, to give him more warmth.
“Oh Lord. I am so glad you are hungry but you won’t get any milk from there, I am afraid.”
Jamie sits up straighter. He had been dozing himself. “What?”
“He lives and is hungry.” He looks, seeing the lad, frowning in concentration as he tries to nurse. A wave of compassion rushes over him.
“Poor lad. He needs a wet nurse.”
“Yes. Someone who can be trusted.”
“I shall ask Mrs. Fitz. She will know of someone. Will fetch some goat’s milk in the meantime.”
She nods. He rises, stretching the tightness out of his body that came with seating all night by the fireplace.
“Hurry back.”
“Aye.”
She gently disengages his mouth from her nipple. He lets out a small cry. “I know. I am sorry. We are going to get you some milk, I promise. My little fighter. Let’s see how you are doing.” Unbundling him, she listens to his chest. The crackling sound is less. She gives him more ginger tea. He swallows eagerly before letting another cry out.
“Not enough, eye. I know.”
“Jamie lad, you and your lady missed breakfast. I can probably round you up something.” Mrs. Fitz greets him.
“I appreciate it,” he leads her away from the others, “I also need a wet nurse, one that can keep quiet.”
Now Mrs. Fitz has heard a lot. Many confessions of unintentional pregnancies, whispers of unnatural urges, and much more. But this. “Jamie, what are you going on about?”
He sighs and explains. After, she nods her head. “Can you help?”
“Aye, I know just the lass. Will gather some warm goat’s milk until she can be fetched.”
“Thank you.”
“I ken Claire is a fine healer with a touch straight from the Divine Himself. But…”
“I know. She is stubborn. The lad though, he is strong, a fighter. I cannot fault her for gifting him with a chance.”
“Nor can I Jamie. He will live, most likely. What then? Will you keep him?”
That was a good question. Should they try to find his parents, they who believed they were doing the best for him? Or, take him as theirs, raise him.
“Let us see him bawl then we will decide.”
“Aye.”
He returns to her with a tray of food for them and a bottle of warm milk for him. Mrs. Fitz placed a cloth teat on it so he could suck the milk through it.
“Perfect!” she exclaims at seeing it. She places it on his lips. When he tastes the warm milk, he starts to eagerly suckle.
He tells her all she has said.
“It is a good question. I have given it some thought,” She looks down at the baby. Confession time, “Maybe we should keep him. I don’t know that I can give you a child. My husband and I, we tried. I never conceived, not once. I don’t know that I can.”
He lifts her head with his finger. “I have seen the pain of childbirth. My dear mam died in child bed. I can bare pain myself but, I am not sure I can bare yours. If God has made you sterile, in His wisdom, then we will handle it together. Starting with seeing to William here.”
“William?” she is grinning.
“After my brother. He died of the pox when I was six. You don’t mind?”
“No. William he is. William Henry, after my father?”
“Aye,” He touches the lad’s soft dark hair, “Drink up, William Henry Fraser, get bawl.”
#my writing#outlander fanfic#the changeling#chapter 2#jamie and claire#outlander fandom#cannon divergence
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The Hills Final Chapter
pairings: fem reader x ran haitani
wordcount: 3.3k
twarnings: minor character (main character death),little fluff, babies, family stuff, breast milk mention, reader is lactating, breast milk ingestion,
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24
She was tiny. She was not as small as you thought she’d be, but she was smaller than the average newborn child. Obviously, she was “early”, but all that mattered was that she was safe and sound while she slept soundly against your bosom.
Kai had been sleeping since you arrived in the NICU and one of the nurses pulled her from the incubator so that you could get some skin-to-skin time with her. Being able to hold her in your arms soothed your fraying nerves.
You were in your own little world admiring the babe, picking out the different features on her tiny face that obviously belonged to you and then the ones that belonged to Ran. It was all surreal and it only caused a fluttering warmth to bloom in your chest making you feel... complete. As if everything would be alright.
It surprised you that the small baby was sleeping through the faint hum of the breast pump on the table beside you. One of the nurses had asked if you were interested in breastfeeding... and to be honest you had never given it a solid thought.
She suggested you try pumping to see if you were producing any milk at all. You were surprised to see that you were. Once you collected enough the nurse said that she’d put it in a small bottle and let you feed the baby.
Breastfeeding seemed to be a lot of work but for this little bean, for Kai, she was worth the effort.
“I’ll transfer the milk over for you and then we can wake her up to feed her,” One of the NICU nurses happily blurted as she maneuvered around the room. Asking questions here and there so early in the morning to make conversation as she continued through a few other tasks.
She showed you how to change the baby’s diaper and gave you some basic information that was routine for all parents to receive after giving birth.
“Will your husband be stopping by sometime this morning?”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise before you tore your eyes away from Kai repeating her question in your head. Ran. He was supposed to be here at some point this morning. You were so enthralled with Kai that it hadn’t even crossed your mind.
“He’s supposed to be here this morning, I’m sure he will show up soon,” you flashed her a smile as she pulled a sterile rubber nipple from its packaging and screwed it on the small bottle. She walked towards the sink and rinsed the nipple under a stream of distilled water before handing it over to you.
“Kai is probably too weak now to latch properly, but the longer she stays in the incubator she will become stronger, and she’ll be able to latch directly onto your nipple,” The nurse stated matter of factly before she stepped back to watch you nudge at Kai’s lips with the bottle.
She stirred subtly letting out a tiny yawn before fixing her lips around the tip of the bottle.
“Looks good Mrs. Haitani, I’ll give you some privacy, let me know if you need anything!”
“Thank you, Nora,” Nora, the NICU nurse left the room and left you alone with the baby, your eyes trained on her as she suckled sweetly at the bottle. She was eating hungrily, and you tipped the bottle up so that she wouldn’t swallow any air down.
Kai was beautiful and the very essence of her brought a sad smile to your face. You thought she was going back to sleep as she fed, those little eyelids of hers twitching as he guzzled down the milk from her bottle.
Nuzzling her closer to your bosom you began to talk to her quietly and idly wondering if she had heard you crying so often during your shortened pregnancy.
“Mommy is sorry if she startled you, I know she cried a lot... but I’m glad you’re here... safe and finally in my arms,”
You were relieved, you were happy, you really were. But again, you were on the verge of tears trying to understand what all of this meant. Your heart was full but felt empty at the same time.
“I’ll always be here to protect your little one...” Swallowing around the tightness that seemed to be forming in your throat, you mumbled once again. “I think your daddy will too,”
A few seconds of silence crept on until you heard the familiar drag of a tired voice behind you, one that you hadn’t expected right then.
“Daddy huh? I could get used to hearing that,”
Ran was standing in the doorway, dressed oddly casually in a pair of dark sweatpants and a matching jacket with a paper gown thrown over his clothes. He appeared to be freshly showered, his hair damp and combed back neatly with a flu mask tucked underneath his sharp jaw, and he was drying his hands off with a paper towel.
His sudden appearance startled you into silence. You almost didn’t recognize him. You parted your lips to say something but instead settled for giving him a soft smile. For once he looked refreshed and at ease, but you detected a bit of hesitance in his body language as he tossed the paper towel into an empty waste bin.
He remained standing near the door with his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweats. Ran’s bright eyes remained bolted on your face for a few moments before they settled on the tiny infant noisily suckling on the bottle that you held lightly at her mouth.
He appeared to be frozen and the uneasiness that he felt was apparent on his face.
“Ran...” you whispered, talking quietly as if your normal voice would wake to startle the child from her half-asleep half-awake state. “Do you want to see her?”
Ran seemed to relax if only minimally from his spot at the door and he hesitantly took a step towards you and baby Kai.
“Can I?”
You were blown away that he was even asking, asking if he could hold, let alone look at his own child.
“Of course, you can,” you blurted out, a surprised chortle following your words as he began to cross the room.
He knelt beside the chair you sat in and leaned towards you to hook his chin over your shoulder so his eyes fell on the baby.
3 AM
Naoto and his team waited patiently at a distance as they honed in on the docks in downtown Roppongi. The port had been under surveillance for hours and yet there had been no activity other than the movement of shipment containers.
There was no Bonten and there were no obvious movements that appeared to be gang-related. The tip that Ivy had given him had to be bullshit.
Naoto sucked in an annoyed groan lifting the binoculars back up to his eyes to see if anything had changed down below. Nothing, there was nothing. This circus, or lack thereof was going to get him taken off this case for good.
“ Fuck…” Naoto was becoming frazzled, his anger beginning to get the best of him. “She must have bailed too, Jesus, she played me.”
It was obvious. Naoto couldn’t even get Ivy on the line for the past couple of days. The signal on her burner phone was nonexistent and the phone itself didn’t even ring, nor go to voicemail. Now his informant was on the run and he had no idea where to look.
Agent Vancouver dialed into Naoto’s cell phone and his voice shot over the phone line abruptly.
“Tachibana, we’ve been surveying the area for over 24 hours, there’s nothing of substance here. If Bonten had something planned, they may have gotten wind of us being here, or your tip was a distraction, I’m calling this off.”
Hesitantly Naoto agreed. “I get it, I’ll have to regroup with my source… I had solid intel that they’d be here for that container,”
“That won’t be necessary, our office will be pulling out as far as any support. The head shed doesn’t want to waste any more resources on any of this Bonten crap until you have a solid lead,”
Naoto groaned inwardly, his attention still on the docks as Vancouver gave him the news.
“Understood,”
The FBI withdrew and the help that Naoto received from RPD also began to retreat. He was due back at the station first thing in the morning to debrief the commissioner of the failed attempt at capturing Bonten doing something illegal.
Naoto remained behind walking the docks when everyone left. Again, there were only dock workers around, no one suspicious or anyone doing anything shady. Turning a corner, Naoto came upon the shipment container with the serial number that Ivy had given him.
It was sitting on its own separated from all the other containers. Double-checking the serial number, he moved around to the front of it to examine it further. It wasn’t shackled with any chains, no padlocks, it was simply available for him to open and it examine if he wished to.
He didn’t have a search warrant or anything, but he wasn’t here as a cop, he was here as a curious civilian. Naoto hastily grabbed the handles of the shipping container and began to unlatch them and pried the doors open so he could peer inside the murkiness of the container.
It was pitch black, nothing out of the ordinary he could see. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he turned on the flashlight to illuminate the dense darkness of the can and set eyes on what appeared to be some sort of remote device at the back of the can.
It was a bomb, that was armed when he got closer to it. A blinking red light signaling that it had armed began to blink in rapid succession and Naoto nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise.
“Fuck”
The shipping container ignited into a large firestorm, blasting the metal from the inside into shrapnel.
Ran had stopped back at the home he shared with you before heading to the hospital. He showered and packed a bag of toiletries and clothes for you to bring to the hospital.
While he finished packing whatever he thought would be important, he received an incoming text on his burner phone.
UNKNOWN: It’s done, all clear.
Ran scoffed a bit, more to himself than anyone else. He didn’t think that Tachibana would go out so easily.
Months had come and gone, Kai was now at home with you and Ran and the pair of you were trying to find your own routine, getting used to being new parents.
You were exhausted, Ran was exhausted, but the two of you made it work. Kai was getting better about sleeping through the night in her crib and in her own room, which was directly next to the master room.
Things were quiet and semi-normal and you were grateful for that. Over the past year, this was as close to normal as your life had been and honestly, it was exciting. It was boring. You craved the normalcy that you were granted over time.
After putting Kai down for the night, it was only a few minutes after eight and you were exhausted. Ran wasn’t home yet, you figured he had gotten tied up with something at work as per usual.
Desperate for a shower, you brought the baby monitor next to your bed into the bathroom with you and quickly doused yourself under the shower head just in case the baby had woken up while you were bathing.
You were quick, and after checking the baby monitor upon stepping out of the shower relieved that Kai was still fast asleep in the other room. After sitting the baby monitor down on the nightstand you slipped on a silk chemise, one that had the extra support needed for your bosom, you slipped into bed nuzzling into your silk pillowcase.
You had no idea when you had fallen asleep but you were startled awake by the groaning of the springs in your mattress and the plush cushion of it dipping behind you. Ran’s arm wrapped around your middle to pull you flush against his abdomen.
He pressed a soft kiss against your temple, tickling your nape with his damp hair.
“You’re home...,” you breathed quietly, disoriented from being awoken so suddenly.
“I missed you,” he cooed, draping an arm across you to turn up the volume on the baby monitor. Kai’s quiet snores were audible across the device causing you to lift your head to observe the black-and-white screen. “She’s knocked out,”
You nodded tiredly, shifting in Ran’s hold so that you had an unobstructed view of his handsome face.
“She should be out for the night,” you yawned quietly, afterward leaning in to kiss Ran on the cheek. “She was good today,”
In response, he pulled you in even closer nosing his way to the column of your throat where he suckled at the skin there feverishly.
You tipped away from him flinching at the cackle of heat that seemed to shoot up your spine.
“Good as in I can finally indulge in my beautiful wife for a night?” He didn’t stop his ministrations, his rather large hands creeping toward the dip of your chemise tugging it down and away from you so one of your breasts popped free. “Even if it’s just a few minutes,”
You squealed underneath the assault your fingers twisting in the still-damp locks of Ran’s hair as you tried to pry him away from your overly sensitive and engorged breasts. Each languid lick of his tongue sent harsh shockwaves of heat right to your middle. It was so intense you were already on the verge of tears.
Motherhood was different. Your body had changed, you were curvier and softer in some places more than before and it drove Ran absolutely mad. It had been a while since the two of you had been together, you had just been so tired of being a full-time mom, Kai was put first at every waking moment.
You couldn’t avoid him forever. He wanted to touch you and your body ached to be touched, enveloped in your doting husband's arms, but this, this was different.
“R-Ran, don’t do that!” you muffled a squeal of discontent as he fixed his mouth around the sensitive nipple. The teat expressed a few dribbles of breast milk at the tip of Ran’s tongue and your face began to heat, mortified at what your husband was doing.
But Ran didn’t miss a beat. He kept his eyes on yours gauging your reaction while he pulled away from your breast. Slipping his tongue along his bottom lip thoughtfully, he tasted the remnants of the breast milk on his tongue as if savoring the subtle sweetness of it.
“So, this is what our little one gets to gorge herself on every day, not bad...” You could see the way his grin widened, almost predator like and it felt as if your face was on fire, that you’d die from shame and embarrassment. “Kai’s going to have to make room for daddy sometime-”
Regardless of whatever he was going to say, you didn’t want to hear it. The embarrassment was too much so you shoved your palm over Ran’s mouth to keep him from talking while using the other hand to cover what modesty you had left.
“You’re embarrassing me,” you admitted, allowing Ran to remove your hand from his mouth.
He looked puzzled, both of his fine brows knitting together in confusion while he inched closer resting his chin on your bosom.
“Out of all the nasty things I’ve done to you up until now, this is embarrassing you?” he asked incredulously.
Almost ashamed, you broke eye contact with him and attempted to put some space between your bodies, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“What’s wrong mama?” Ran asked, keeping you snugly in his arms and forcing you to make eye contact with him.
“It’s just that... my body is different... not what you’re used to and-”
Ran interrupted you kissing you firmly on the lips. “And I love every part of it,”
Letting out a surprised squeal, you ogled him, taking note of the seriousness in his expression. He was serious.
“You carried my child with this body of yours, and no matter what you feel about it, it's beautiful to me. I love every inch of it,” Ran brought the hand that was covering your chest to his lips and kissed the back of it. “If you’re uncomfortable I won’t force you to be with me, I can wait until you’re ready,”
Your vision had begun to blur and you knew you were going to cry before the tears began to fall down your cheeks. After all the shit that the two of you had been through, you lucked out. You ended up marrying possibly the gentlest gangster of them all.
“I love you, Ran,” Cradling him in your arms, you thought about how perfect the future was going to be for your little family. Things were going to be alright.
BONUS:
Two years later, things were great. Ran had fronted you the money to get your practice up and running, you had a small building located in downtown Roppongi and a small intimate staff to help you along including Yoko.
Everything was perfect. Now that things had calmed down and Kai was almost 2, the coming months were going to be filled with planning your official wedding. Ran promised that he would give you a real wedding and you were over the moon with planning everything.
Although the wedding was still months away, you were beyond ecstatic to finally be able to walk down the aisle with Ran Haitani.
Sealing the last invitation envelope on your desk, you began to place them in a decorated box so that you could mail them out later. A light knock at your office door caught you off guard, the door opening and Yoko sticking her head inside.
“Hey, what’s up?” You asked curiously.
“Your husband is on the line, he says its important, I patched him through… he seemed a bit agitated,”
Nodding in acknowledgment, you picked up the phone on your desk watching as Yoko stepped out closing the door behind her.
“Ran?” You breathed, waiting for his voice to come over the line.
“Detectives are on their way over to your office, they’re going to question you, I just wanted to give you a heads up,”
Baffled, you glanced out the glass windows of your office. As if on cue, two detectives stepped into the lobby, flashing their badges to the clerk.
“Ran, what’s going on?” Your aggravation was already overpowering your worry. You knew what you signed up for, but things have been quiet lately. What now?
“I can’t talk right now, I’m going to turn myself in tonight so I won’t be home for dinner, don’t worry about bail money, Mikey has everything taken care of.”
Your jaw dropped a bit, panic now flooding your voice.
“Ran, what fuck?” The words were whispered and Ran was quick to cut you off.
“I’ll be home by morning, I love you, and kiss the baby for me will ya?”
The call was terminated right after with you slamming the phone down onto its receiver. Worry, panic, agitation, your emotions were twisting around in your stomach making you sick. Before you could get a grip on it all there was another knock at your office door.
“Come in,” you sighed, now stone-faced as you stood before two unfamiliar detectives. One of them flashed a badge, ATF apparently.
“Mrs. Y/N Haitani?” The same one holding up the badge asked and you merely nodded crossing your arms across your midsection.
“I was wondering if we could ask you a few questions about your husband,” He stuffed his badge into his pocket before continuing. “I’m agent Vancouver and this is my colleague agent, Harrod, I hope we’re not intruding,”
What the fuck have they gotten into now?
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3, 17, and 27 for the fanfic ask game please :)
3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?
Challenging question. I'm very proud of that sin, through which I run, because I love how the reverse chronology adds to the feel of the fic. But that's not a happy fic, and I wouldn't say I enjoy rereading it. Perhaps Her Double Life? I played a bit with chronology and a lot with verb tense, in ways I think enhance the story and it's a fun reread because it's part of A Bliss Like This, which is a happy universe.
17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?
There's just so much. Half the fun of period fic is research.
Bottle feeding babies had long been a thing, but detachable rubber nipples that were simple to sterilize at home weren't really a thing until 1912. Baby formula wasn't popular in the 20s, but condensed milk, or evaporated milk with kayo syrup or sugar mixed in was used by people who couldn't nurse. Soy based baby formula started being sold in 1929.
KY jelly was invented in the 1910s and its sexual uses were known pretty shortly thereafter, but could only be bought with a prescription through the 1980s. Crisco, and other solid/semisolid shortenings were the go to lubes of nearly all of the 20th century.
27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?
I have never not been nervous to post a fic. Why would anyone like anything I wrote?
Most nervous might be in silence like to death, because it was based so heavily on someone else's post that I worried I was overstepping by publishing it (writing it was non-optional).
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Oh my god today has been so stressful and my bf has literally been a life saver. I was losing my shit crying hysterically over baby not latching and not knowing what to do bc he’s jaundiced and absolutely has to stay on this LED light pad thingy as much as possible so I can’t spend hours trying to breastfeed him and bf has just been amazing.
He helped me pump milk for the first time, he went to sooooo many different stores today getting bottles, a big sterilizer, milk storage bags, so many different things he’s literally been the best I’ve been a wreck all day I can’t even believe how much relief I feel rn I’m so lucky
Please pray for my little glow worm 😭😭😭
#on Tuesday we go back to the doctor to see if he’s better#I literally can’t wait.#he’s only 4 days old and I’ve barely been able to cuddle him and love on him#it fucking kills me#he’s so little he needs to be cuddled he needs skin to skin contact and I can’t hold him!#I’m so depressed ngl.#I can’t wait for this to be over
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Thyseed Baby Bottle Collection - A Closer Look
thyseed is an emblem known for its dedication to supplying incredible child bottles designed to ease the feeding process for each toddler and mother and father. Building on the logo's cognizance of innovation, protection, and comfort, this newsletter explores the exclusive products to be had in the Thyseed infant bottle collection. From silicone bottles to breastfeeding necessities, find out what units thy seed's merchandise aside and the way they could beautify your child's feeding experience.
Thy seed Baby Bottle: The Epitome of Breast-Like Feeding
thyseed infant bottles are meticulously designed to provide a feeding enjoyment that intently mimics breastfeeding The bottles function as a smooth, silicone nipple that resembles the natural breast, assisting babies transition seamlessly between breast and bottle. The silicone material is mild on infants' gums and guarantees a comfortable latch, selling an extra natural and fine feeding experience.
Advanced Anti-Colic Venting System
One of the standout features of thyseed toddler bottles is their superior anti-colic generation. The bottles are geared up with a unique venting system that reduces air consumption all through feeding. This system enables safe colic and gasoline, not unusual issues confronted by toddlers throughout bottle feeding. By minimizing discomfort and fussiness. thyseed's anti-colic era contributes to a smoother feeding technique and a happier child.
Silicone Bottles: Safe and Versatile
thyseed's silicone bottles are a famous desire among parents for his or her safety and versatility. The silicone cloth is also warmness-resistant and sturdy, making the bottles suitable for sterilization and ordinary use. Additionally, silicone bottles are lightweight and easy to maintain, ideal for each parent and developing toddlers.
Breastfeeding Bottles for Smooth Transition
For breastfeeding mothers, thyseed offers breastfeeding bottles mainly designed to support the transition between breast and bottle. These bottles function as breast-like nipples that mimic the herbal sense and float of breastfeeding. The similarity in shape and texture facilitates babies to adapt more without difficulty, decreasing the probability of nipple confusion. This allows for an easy transition while combining breastfeeding and bottle feeding.
Best Baby Bottles for Breastfed Infants
thyseed offers a variety of toddler bottles that might be particularly properly acceptable for breastfed toddlers. These bottles are designed to help a baby's natural feeding rhythm, promoting a comfortable and pressure-unfastened feeding experience. The breast-like nipples inspire proper latch and sucking, supporting breastfed infants to adapt extra without problems to bottle feeding without disrupting their set-up feeding habits.
Customizable Flow Rates for Different Stages
As your infant grows, their feeding desires exchange. thyseed offers various nipple glide prices to accommodate special tiers of your child's development. From slow float for newborns to faster glide rates for older infants, you could customize your infant's feeding revel in step with their age and feeding pace. This adaptability guarantees that your infant gets the proper quantity of milk without suffering from the drift.
Ergonomic and Easy-to-Hold Designs
thyseed toddler bottles are designed with both mother and father and infants in mind. The ergonomic shape of the bottles makes them smooth to hold and cope with throughout feeding. As your baby grows and starts to preserve the bottle themselves, the layout supports their developing motor abilities. Additionally, the extensive bottlenecks make filling and cleaning the bottles a breeze.
Soft Nipples for Comfortable Feeding
The smooth nipples featured in thyseed toddler bottles contribute to a snug feeding revel in your child. The nipples are designed to be bendy and mild, ensuring a natural latch and clean sucking motion. This consolation is crucial for an advantageous feeding experience, encouraging your infant to feed correctly and contentedly.
Conclusion
thyseed's variety of infant bottles offers a comprehensive answer for parents seeking fine, protection, and innovation in their child's feeding recurring. From the breast-like nipples and superior anti-colic technology to the flexible silicone bottles and customizable flow prices. thyseed gives a variety of merchandise that cater to distinct feeding desires and alternatives. By deciding on thyseed, you are making an investment in a feeding experience that prioritizes your infant's consolation and well-being.
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Here is a wonderful little story A young cashier told an older woman that she should bring her grocery bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment. The woman apologized, "We didn't have this green thing back in my day." The young clerk said, "Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations." She gave him a firm stare and a hard grin and said “Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles, and beer bottles. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over. They were recycled. Grocery stores bagged our groceries in brown paper bags, which we reused for numerous things. We walked upstairs because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. Back then, we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throwaway kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy-gobbling machine burning up 220 volts -- wind and solar power did dry our clothes back in our day. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. The TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief, not a screen the size of the state of Montana. In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded-up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades with a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. Back then, people took a bus and kids rode their bikes instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 23,000 miles in space to find the nearest burger joint. But the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn't have the green thing.” The cashier stood there still and quiet as the old lady found her wallet to pay. Then lady turned to leave but stepped back and turned toward the cashier. She said “You have a world of knowledge in that little device in your hand. Pity you just use it to gossip, take pictures, and waste time. It would do you good to search a bit of history before you embarrass yourself like this again. Forward this to another selfish old person who needs a lesson in conservation from a smart-ass young person.
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Baby Bottle Warmer Market Unidentified Segments – The Biggest Opportunity Of 2024
A device which is used for warming the milk and infant or baby formula in a baby's bottle, at the correct temperature for feeding, is basically considered as a baby bottle warmer. Baby bottle warmers are especially been used for heating expressed breastmilk milk at a temperature which is appropriate. Vendors are focusing focus on innovation in the technology and also on the portfolio expansion, which leads to premiumization of product. Therefore, vendors are innovating their product offerings by incorporating the advanced technologies, to gain total market share. Among that smart connectivity is one of the latest technologies which are incorporated in baby bottle sterilizers, so that it can be easily connected to tablets or smartphones using the wireless technology such as Bluetooth, that can send alerts and monitor and control the bottle warmers from anywhere.
Free Sample Report + All Related Graphs & Charts @: https://www.advancemarketanalytics.com/sample-report/112551-global-baby-bottle-warmer-market?utm_source=Organic&utm_medium=Vinay
Latest released the research study on Global Baby Bottle Warmer Market, offers a detailed overview of the factors influencing the global business scope. Baby Bottle Warmer Market research report shows the latest market insights, current situation analysis with upcoming trends and breakdown of the products and services. The report provides key statistics on the market status, size, share, growth factors of the Baby Bottle Warmer The study covers emerging player’s data, including: competitive landscape, sales, revenue and global market share of top manufacturers are Arstana (Italy), BABY BREZZA (United States), Cuisinart (United States), Koninklijke Philips (Netherlands), Munchkin (United States), Chicco (Italy), Dr, Browns (United States), Mayborn Group (United Kingdom)
Thanks for reading this article; you can also get individual chapter wise section or region wise report version like North America, Europe or Southeast Asia.
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