Blinky's Little Space

[dippersaurus]

I didn’t try to be little today.

It just happened… quietly. Softly. Like a blanket being pulled up to my chin.

I woke up fuzzy.

A little slower to speak. A little quicker to reach for my paci.

My fingers went straight to Teddy before I even noticed the quiet ache in my chest.

The world felt too loud. Too grown.

So I curled up on the sofa, padding rustling beneath me, and let the crinkles soothe what words couldn’t.

My paci bobbed.

Teddy’s fur tickled my cheek.

And the hum of cartoons played like white noise in the background as my thoughts disappeared… one by one.

I didn’t say a word.

I didn’t need to.

I just laid there with that faraway look in my eyes.

The one that says: “I’m not all here anymore… please keep me like this.”

[dippersaurus]

I’m already soaked, aren’t I?

I can’t remember when it happened exactly…

Maybe it was halfway through my bottle.

Or maybe before that, when I sat down and felt my nappy squish under me just a little too much.

But by the time this picture was taken?

I was already soaked. 🫢Not a single grownup thought left in my head.

Just soft squirmies, warm crinkles, and that little smile I get when I know I’ve been caught.

I tried to keep drinking like everything was fine. Like I wasn’t wiggling. Like I didn’t just dribble a little more.

But my legs had parted. My cheeks had pinked. And you could tell.

So I smiled.

Because deep down, I wanted someone to notice. To lean in close, pat the front of my nappy and say:

“Oh baby… no wonder you’re wriggling. You’re absolutely drenched.”

[babbibunni]

I think someone has forgotten to change my diaper

[paddedpinchy]

Getting padded at the GYM - was a biiit nervous 👉👈

[blinkiest]

So brave!

[paddedtech]

When only the most embarrassing cardboard box is available to carry your groceries home in. 🙈

[comfortablycrinkly]

“OMG Trace! you really have put that lazy husband of yours back in nappies! I thought you were joking” Lindsay exclaimed through shock induced giggles.

There, in the doorway of what was once our spare bedroom stood my wife and 3 of her friends. We had met many times in the past at dinner parties, but this time was very, very different. There I was fast asleep on a playmat - my playmat, snuggled up to the giant panda bear my wife mummy had bought me, wearing nothing more than an unbuttoned onesie and a nappy.

“See! I told you it was worth coming back with me. I warned him enough times that if he continued to act like a baby then I would damn well treat him like one so that’s exactly what I did. Plus, this room makes the perfect nursery for little sleepy head here”

“Is…is…has he wet himself?” spluttered Maria as she stared in complete disbelief at what could only be described as an adult sized nursery, equipped with a giant crib, changing table, and supplies.

“Yep - that’ll be the 3rd time today. Nappies his size are expensive and he knows full well that the bathroom is now totally off limits for him. Wet nappies are harmless enough, it’s the poopy ones that take a little longer to change. Now, what d’you say we head downstairs and open that wine! I cannot wait to see the look on my baby boy’s face when he wakes up and I make him ask one of you to change his bum”

[lilbuckaroo52]

Love it..

[derknisterminister]

Okay, I’ll show you but don’t tell daddy I couldn’t stay fresh through the night 😖

[littleac]

Maybe I had some accidents while coloring my book🙈

[babbibunni]

Soggy mornings are my favourite mornings 🥰

[blinkiest]

Adorable

[elizabeth-chambers-author]

AB/DL Hot Thoughts #2

Picture this…

You’re on the changing table. Your caregiver put the safety strap around your waist, and your wrists are safely buckled into cuffs at each side of your head so you don’t interrupt having your diaper changed.

Usually, you don’t fuss a lot while getting changed. But you messed yourself while on a walk this morning, and your caregiver could tell as you shuffled your feet that you were getting a rash.

It hurts… but you don’t like the solution any better.

Diaper rash cream.

Your caregiver carefully wipes you clean, and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes as the cold wipes sting your sensitive skin. You’re a bit raw back there, and with your legs in the air your caregiver has a good view of how bad your diaper rash is.

“Tsk tsk… I asked you three times if you needed a diaper change, sweetie - next time I’m just going to check your bottom wherever we are.”

“Noooooooo…”

You whined and covered your face as they slipped a clean diaper under your sore bottom. The dry diaper was a little more comfortable than the wet one, but not by much.

“Yes, sweetie - you’re too little to tell me that you’ve pooped your pants, so I have to check you more often.”

Then, you heard them open the cap on your least favorite diapering essential - the diaper rash cream. Sure, it was going to make you feel better, but it was so embarrassing to have your caregiver slide their cream-coated finger between your cheeks.

“Please… I don’t wan’t that…” you begged softly.

They ignored you, pushing your knees against your chest so that your rosebud was fully on display.

“You’re got a rash, honey - this will make it better.”

They swiped it around your tender areas. Instantly you felt your pain cool, but for the rest of the day, it was a constant reminder of how far you’ve fallen. They always applied it so thick, that you could feel the sticky paste on your butt every time you moved.”

“Yucky…” you pouted.

Your caregiver was thorough, coating your whole crack and area between your bottom and your privates in a layer of white. Then, after an equally thorough powdering, they taped the fresh diaper shut.

“I’ll tell you what’s yucky, baby - having to change an adults baby-printed diapers multiple times a day because they can’t tell when they need to go potty anymore.”

They get you off the changing table, and guide you to the crib.

“Now, it’s nap time - so try to get some rest, baby. I think we’ll start using diaper cream every time you get changed from now on, so you don’t get anymore rashes when you make stinkies in your diaper.”

[tentativetitlee]

Having to mess your pants way past your bedtime, and helplessly wriggling and groaning in your spiked mittens and booties behind the confines of an impossibly large wooden crib.

Your each everyone movement and complaint is outlined audibly by your bulky nighttime padding. Your caregiver doesn’t even need the baby monitor, they can hear your discomfort from a few doors down.

They sleepily undo the nursery door lock, and walk over to the crib, unlatching the side wall and plucking you into their arms and over their shoulder like you weigh less than nothing.

Tears form at the corners of your eyes in both pain and embarrassment as your stomach begs for relief. Your caregiver rubbing your backside softly, cooing in a sing-song voice:

“There, there. Such a grumpy baby tonight, hm? Just let go for me, hun. Your trusty Huggies will keep it all under control.”

They kiss the side of your forehead and it’s like the spell has been lifted. Your body goes limp on demand, and you burrow your face into your caregiver’s neck as you slowly and softly push, your padded backside bulging slightly above the arm supporting it.

The diaper shifts and sags under its new weight, and the nursery begins to smell a tad more authentic. In your dozy, baby-brained state, you hardly even realize what just transpired.

Your eyes snap closed and you drift off almost immediately, too sleepy to complete anything more than your most basic bodily functions.

Your caregiver grins, happy with how thoroughly they’ve broken you into the perfect little infant. They lay you down gently on the changing table, carefully so as to not disturb your sleep.

Your old nighttime padding is replaced with blinding efficiency by another of the same brand and thickness, and you’re hoisted up and back into your crib like the whole incident never even happened.

[ducksandquacks]

Pathetic (First Date)

A quick bite after work turned into celebratory drinks, and, swept up in the chaos of it all, Emma found herself stumbling several blocks to yet another bar she'd never heard of with colleagues she barely knew. Brian and Sandeep were bragging again, something about booked revenue and "crushing it". Most of the QA team followed behind, chatting in hushed tones. Probably continuing their exhausting lunch conversation about some inane AI bullshit.

Why did she agree to this again? Wasn't her socialization over lunches in the work cafeteria enough? She could think of quite a few things she'd find so much more enjoyable at home.

Right. Jade. The new girl. Even though they didn't work closely, they met over lunch on her first day. They'd occasionally bump into each other at the coffee shop on the corner before work. Without really thinking about it, Emma had shifted her schedule a little earlier, hoping for more of those friendly morning chats over coffee. Yeah, there was no way Emma was going to skip this one and force Jade be the token woman at the work outing. Not that she didn't seem like she couldn't handle it. She always looked so effortlessly put together, so…

A sigh and a sharp elbow from the right interrupted Emma's thoughts. Jade smiled, locking eyes with Emma for a moment before rolling hers. The pair looked like they couldn't possibly be attending the same function. Emma's tidy brown ponytail and adorable dress covered with a repeating bunny print made a stark contrast with Jade's asymmetrical purple side-shave and spiked leather jacket. But together they stood out, an island in a sea of corporate logo-embroidered black vests and polos.

"Fuck me, are they always like this?"

"Yeah, you, kinda get used to it. I mean, probably. I don't know, I don't go that often anymore." Shit. She sounded awkward, she knew it. Emma looked up at the taller woman, who stepped to the side as she beckoned to Emma to follow. Pausing to let the rest of the group pass, Jade rummaged through her purse, pulling out a vape and taking a long drag before offering it with a grin.

"It's sativa. Think I've had my fill of our coworkers for the night. What do you say we get out of here?"

Emma took the vape, fumbling with the button before pressing it to her lips and inhaling, desperately trying to look like she had any idea what she was doing. Betrayed by a fit of coughing, she handed it back to the girl. "Gosh, please. These things are always boring. Do you have anywhere in mind?"

"Friday night's karaoke night at Beth's"

"Beth's Pub, you mean? Isn't that a…"

"Yeah, the dyke bar on Seventh. Well, more of a queer bar these days, but… " Jade trailed off. "Sorry, is that a problem? I didn't mean to assume anything."

Emma glanced at the collection of rings on Jade's immaculately manicured fingers, noting the shorter nails on her first two, then down at the trans and lesbian pride flag pins on the strap of her bag. "Takes one to know one, huh?"

"I knew I liked you." Jade beamed. "So, why haven't I seen you there before?"

"Well, I'm kind of a homebody" Emma laughed sheepishly. "Always meant to, but never got around to it. But karaoke tonight sounds fun." She clutched her tote, hoping that its contents wouldn't be too obvious as the pair turned and walked off towards their new destination. Well, it wasn't exactly tote. It was more of an oversized plush capybara with a built-in pocket and a shoulder strap.

God, she was approaching her 30s and this was the closest thing she had to a purse? How did anyone manage to take her seriously at work. Why was Jade even giving her the time of day? How had nobody noticed the way her…

The same sharp elbow interrupted her thoughts again, accompanied by a giggle. "We're here!" Jade held the door for her, ushering her in from the brisk autumn air.

Emma looked in awe at the bustling scene in front of her. A leather-clad butch belted out a passable rendition of a Bruce Springsteen song on the stage in the back corner as the crowd looked on. Booths along the far wall were filled with groups of friends, plus a few folks she thought she recognized from that in-person trans group she talked herself into attending once.

"C'mon, Emma, couple seats opened up at the bar! Gotta jump on it." Jade grabbed her by the arm, tugging her over to a pair of newly vacant barstools. Sitting down, she patted the stool next to her and reached for the plush capybara bag that was barely clinging to Emma's shoulder, hanging it from the hook under the bar before the girl could even protest.

"Wait a second, my bag, you didn't see my…" Emma cut herself off, hoping the bar lighting would hide the deep blush in her cheeks. "Sorry, I just want to keep track of her… it. You know?"

"I'm so sorry hun, your bag was slipping down your shoulder, and I just wanted to make sure she didn't fall on the floor." Jade patted the girl's shoulder reassuringly. "Love your capybara friend, by the way. What's her name?"

"Sophia." Emma whispered, closing her eyes as she paused. "I know it's probably weird, but I like cute stuff, and she… I feel better having her around, you know?"

"Sophia the capybara!" Jade proclaimed, her face lighting up. "I love it! She's almost as adorable as you are. And hey, don't ever let anyone give you a hard time about what you like."

Pretending not to notice Emma's shy smile, Jade turned to catch the bartender's attention. "Hey Ann, how's your night going? I'll have the usual, and she'll have the frozen strawberry margarita."

The bartender shot a glance across the bar at Emma, who nodded eagerly to confirm the order. "That sounds really yummy, actually. I mean, it sounds good."

"Do I need to see some ID?" Ann chuckled, turning away to prepare the drinks without waiting for a response.

Two rounds of strawberry margaritas and gin & tonics and several unfortunate karaoke renditions of Chappell Roan later, the two were still glued to their seats, lost in conversation. "Your favorite show? Hmm, let me guess, it's gotta be Bluey, right?" Jade teased, playfully grabbing Emma's shoulder. "I mean, look at you. You practically radiate Bingo Heeler energy."

Emma looked down at her dress and her adorable capybara purse hanging underneath the bar, downing the last sip of her strawberry margarita. "Okay, you got me there! But… hey wait a second, you cheated! You remembered my t-shirt from last week, didn't you?"

"So what if I did? What are you going to do about it?" Jade grinned mischievously, meeting her gaze expectantly and lingering for just a moment. With a sad sigh, she continued. "Y'know, it's one of my favorites too, actually. I might not seem like the type, but I've seen every episode. I used to babysit a little girl who was almost as into it as you are."

"Used to? What happened there? Got out of babysitting, started your new job in corporate finance?" Emma asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Not quite. She's the one who got the new job, actually. Last year. Moved to Portland with one of her partners. Didn't even mention it until the truck was packed."

"Wait, she… Oh. Oh no. I'm so sorry, Jade. You didn't deserve that."

Jade abruptly got up from her seat, gently resting a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Thank you, hun. It hurt, but it was probably for the best. Sorry for bringing it up on an otherwise lovely evening." She let out a weary sigh and finished her drink, placing the empty glass back on its coaster. "Hey, looks like we both finished this round. What do you say, hit the bathroom, maybe grab one more before last call?"

"Oh, um, I don't… I don't need to go that bad." Emma stuttered, her eyes doing their best to drill a hole into the floor as she shifted in her seat nervously. "But… go ahead, I can keep an eye on your bag. And then one more drink sounds really nice."

Jade hesitated for a second, raising an eyebrow as she looked Emma up and down. She smirked slightly, then smiled, squeezing her shoulder and sauntering off to the bathroom. "Okay, babygirl, if you say so! Back in a few."

Emma swung her feet nervously as she waited perched on her barstool. Did Jade mean anything by that? And was that a smirk? Did Jade see inside her bag? Could she have noticed anything through her black leggings? She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and relaxed. Probably nothing. Probably just…

Fuck.

She was leaking. Badly. As the telltale wet spots began to form on her leggings and the wetness started to spread to her dress, her eyes welled up. Here she was, hanging out with this gorgeous woman, and she had to go and ruin it by doing something stupid like forgetting to change before leaving work. She jumped up, grabbing a few napkins from the bar to try and wipe down her seat. Maybe she could pay the tab and sneak out before Jade got back. Maybe she could…

"Emma? Everything ok?" Jade placed a hand on the distraught girl's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she assessed the situation. "Sweetie, what happened, did you leak?"

Emma just nodded, looking up at Jade before looking back down at her feet. So stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Just pathetic. Why did she have to go and ruin an evening by…

"Sophia's holding onto some extras, right?" Jade asked as she pressed the plush capybara bag into the girl's arms. "I couldn't help but notice earlier. Why don't you hold onto her and we can get you to the bathroom to get cleaned up?"

Jade wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulders, guiding her towards the bathroom as she gently rubbed her back. Most of the other patrons they passed seemed oblivious to Emma's little mishap. The few that looked away from the stage smirked knowingly, under the impression that the pair were heading to the bathroom together for very different reasons.

Jade held the door to the single bathroom open, standing in front of the doorway as she guided Emma in. "Do you want privacy, sweetie, or do you want a hand? I promise it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Help, please. If it's ok." Emma whimpered, waving Jade in, watching as she locked the door behind them. "How… how long have you known?"

Jade took the capybara bag from Emma. "May I?" she asked, waiting for the girl to nod before she started going through it, pulling out wipes, powder, and a fresh diaper and laying them down on the bathroom counter. "Known you were a little? I mean, just look at you, sweetie. I think it's pretty obvious, don't you? As for the diapers, well, I caught a peek of the BunnyHopps in your bag when we sat down at dinner."

Emma sniffled and wiped her eyes, her face cycling through every imaginable shade of red and pink as Jade gently helped her out of her shoes and damp leggings, her thoroughly soaked pink diaper hanging between her legs, showing the magnitude of her earlier accident.

"I'm so sorry for ruining the night, Jade. You… you must think I'm such a loser." Emma sniffled, barely holding back tears as the woman gently stroked her back. "We were having so much fun, you look so pretty, I was even thinking of maybe asking you if…" She cut herself off, grabbing her bag and holding it tightly before continuing. "I've never smoked weed before, I'm the only lesbian in town who's never been to Beth's, and I couldn't even manage to keep my pants dry for the night. I wore a diaper to work for fun, and I didn't even wear a plain diaper, oh no, I just had to go and wear my cutest, most babyish…"

Jade wrapped her up in a tight hug, pulling her in close. "Oh sweetie, it's okay. It's okay. Accidents happen. Besides, I think the cute diapers suit you. Look at how they match your bunny dress!" Jade smiled, pulling out a few wipes from the pack on the counter. "Still want me to help, Emma? I'd love to change your diaper, but I want to make sure that's what you want."

Emma nodded. "Yes, please."

"Good girl!" Jade grinned, guiding Emma to lean back against the wall before starting to undo the tapes on her diaper. "Now, what was it you were going to ask me?"

"Um, well… I was going to ask if you wanted to go out sometime. Like, on a date I mean, not just after work." Emma gasped, momentarily losing steam as Jade cleaned her up with the cold baby wipe. "But how could you possibly want to go out on a date with me?"

Jade slipped the diaper out from behind Emma, folding the wipe into the soggy disposable and taping it up before tossing it into the trash. She smiled to herself as she unfolded the fresh diaper. "Lift your back up for me. That's it. Good girl." Jade guided the diaper into place behind Emma, adjusting it, checking the fit and alignment.

"Call it a second date, then?" Jade asked, punctuating her words with a few sprinkles of baby powder before guiding the front of the diaper up between Emma's legs and fastening the four tapes. "I'd have to say yes. I mean, if you still wanted to." Jade smiled, reaching down to adjust the leak guards between Emma's legs. "Because this has been such a memorable first date."

Emma took a step away from the wall, looking down and admiring Jade's handiwork, smoothing out her dress to see just how much it would cover her diaper without her ruined leggings. "You mean, you would… even with a girl as pathetic as I am?"

"Sweetie, you say that like it's a bad thing." Jade packed up the changing supplies into Emma's bag. "I don't want a girl who's going to to pretend to be someone she's not just to try and impress me."

"I want a girl like you. Adorable, sweet, unafraid to be herself." Jade kissed Emma's forehead, pressing the plush capybara into her arms. "And, yes. Pathetic."

[dippersaurus]

Mission: Poop Possible 😒😤

It was meant to be a fun day out.

That’s what Mummy had said, all chirpy and smiley, as she packed your snacks, your changing bag, and gave your forehead a big smooch before loading you into the car.

“We’re going to IKEA, sweetpea! A day trip to Cardiff to get your new bookcase, and maybe even look at some proper nursery furniture for your big-little room, hmm?”

You were excited. At first. The idea of a special bookcase for your picture books and bedtime stories, and maybe some cute animal knobs for your drawers? It made your tummy flutter and your cheeks do that warm little wiggle they always did when Mummy made you feel special.

But… you forgot something.

You hate shopping.

By the time you were in the showroom section, you'd already lost count of the number of sofas you'd sat on, the number of drawers Mummy tested ("Ooooh, soft-close! We like that, don’t we, pickle?") and the number of times you said, “Can we go now?” in a steadily more whiny voice.

You shuffled behind her with your backpack bouncing and your pout fully activated.

“I don’t wanna look at shelves anymore…”

“I don’t wanna walk!”

“My legs hurt!”

Mummy tried. She really did. She offered you your tablet. You said no. Then yes. Then threw it back in your lap because the Wi-Fi wasn’t working right.

She tried your Switch. But the bright lights and noise made you grumble.

She even picked up a big soft panda and squished it into your arms with a “Look! It’s Mr. Panda Waddles! He can help us choose a nursery rug!”

You squeezed it once and then dramatically flopped your head against the display crib.

“I’m boooooored, Mummy…”

By the time you got to aisle 14, Mummy was pushing the trolley and giving you that look...not angry, but the one with the tight-lipped smile that meant she was trying very hard to stay patient.

You, on the other hand, were getting desperate.

You needed this trip to end.

And that’s when you remembered something.

Something you didn’t like admitting out loud.

Something you didn’t even really think about all proper-like…

But sometimes… when you were really stuck somewhere and didn’t wanna be there anymore…

Well…

Let’s just say… your tummy wasn’t entirely innocent.

You gave Mummy your biggest grump face as she compared a white and pine bookcase. You scrunched your legs together. Huffed. Frowned. Pushed out your lower lip…

And then…

You gave a little push.

Just a small one.

A quiet, wiggly sort of squish in your nappy. You felt it bloom warmly, filling the seat of your nappy like a cozy, smelly protest. Your cheeks flushed hot, and you shifted a bit in your shoes, pretending to keep pouting..though now with a secret, sneaky satisfaction.

There.

Poopy deployed.

Operation "Abort IKEA" was officially underway.

You kept quiet at first. Real casual. Acting all “innocent.”

But Mummy had her super-mummy senses, of course. She started sniffing lightly a few minutes later. Narrowed her eyes. Looked at you.

“Mmm… Oli…”

She crouched down just a bit and gave a knowing glance.

“Did someone make a stinky?”

You shrugged with a tiny squeak. Looked at the ceiling. The floor. The trolley wheels.

“…maybe.”

Mummy sighed, but not the bad kind. The kind that said, ‘Oh you little rascal, I know what you’re doing.’

She leaned closer and poked your tummy very gently.

“You know, I do suspect you sometimes make poopies on purpose when you want to go home.”

You blinked. Your ears burned. Busted.

Mummy raised one eyebrow. “Mmmhmm. Just like the time at the garden centre. And the Christmas market. And that time in Tesco when you miraculously had an accident right before we were gonna check out the home baking aisle.”

You squirmed. “I just… I dun like shoppin’.”

“I know, sweetheart. But you also know what else?” She pulled you close and kissed your head, rubbing your back despite the state of your nappy. “You don’t have to poop to tell Mummy you’re done. We can use our words, even fussy ones.”

You wiggled and gave a dramatic sigh. “But it works…”

Mummy snorted a laugh and shook her head. “You little stinkbug.”

Then she straightened up, gave you a gentle pat on the bum (which made you giggle and blush), and said, “Right. To the Changing Places loo we go. And maybe just one last look at rugs, if Mister Poopypants here can hold off turning into Grumpzilla again.”

You gave a sheepish grin and clung to her hand.

Secretly?

You were still proud of your sneaky tactic.

But also?

You were really glad she knew.

And loved you through it anyway.

Even if she did call you Mister Poopypants all the way back to the car.

[fairiesthesecond]

The last bit of his dream is fading away. He slowly realizes that his head hurts. Now he's definitely awake. And there's something plasticky in his mouth.

What...He rolls over, pushing himself up on his elbows. It's the pacifier. Still in his mouth. He hastily takes it out and tries to set it down on the nightstand, but it's clipped to his pajama shirt. He stands up out of bed and pulls open the curtains. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon and the world outside is dark and blue. He turns on the light and squeezes his eyes shut without meaning to. It's making his headache worse.

He reaches down and takes off his shirt. Long-sleeved with little stars and moons with faces printed all over it. The pacifier thuds softly onto the rug as he tosses the shirt on the ground. Now pants.

He isn't wearing a diaper under them, which is kind of a relief. He's not wearing anything under them. He was sure he wore a diaper last night. Maybe that had been a part of his dream.

The pants join the pajama shirt in a heap on the rug and he opens his dresser drawer with a squeak.

"Did you have to turn the light on?" asks a mumbly voice from the bed. His girlfriend turns over, rubbing her eyes.

"I have to get ready for work," he says, pulling briefs and socks out of his drawer.

"Did you get your jammies off by yourself?"

"Shh."

She smiles. "Are you still feeling shy?"

"No, I'm not..." He looks at her and she's giving him a funny look, smirking. He frowns.

"Pouting?"

"No! I need to get ready for work."

He goes back to getting dressed. He can see her sitting up in his peripheral vision.

She stands up and picks up his pajamas. "You're supposed to unclip your pacifier and put these in the hamper."

"I've got a headache." He rubs his eyes. "I don't want to do the...the baby stuff right now." He opens the closet and sorts through his shirts.

"You still have to put your clothes away. That's not being a baby; that's being responsible and cleaning up so your girlfriend doesn't have to do it for you."

He turns around, shirt halfway buttoned, and picks up the pajamas.

"Oh, you got your buttons wrong." She stands up and waits for him to drop the pajamas in the hamper before unbuttoning his shirt and redoing it, fussing over him.

"I can do that myself," he says.

"You aren't getting a migraine again, are you?"

"No! My head just hurts."

"You would have slept better in a diaper. I told you. But it's okay; I know you got embarrassed."

He looks at her and rubs his eye. There's a little squiggle of light starting to dance in the corner of his vision but he's trying to ignore it.

"I didn't get embarrassed. I just didn't want to. It's dumb."

"You didn't want to? You were drooling around your pacifier and letting me spoon you and baby you but you didn't want to wear a diaper?"

"Yeah. I need coffee." He rubs his eyes again, leaving the room with his shirt untucked.

She follows him into the kitchen, still in her pajamas.

The sound of the coffee grinder makes his head hurt more, and he says "ow!" out loud.

She watches him as he sets his cup down on the table.

"Are you okay? Do you need something to eat?"

"I'm nauseous," he says quietly. "I don't feel good at all."

She reaches out and puts her hand over his on the table. She turns his hand over and rubs circles on it with her thumb. "Do you need to stay home?"

He really wants to shake his head and say no and finish his coffee and go to work, but he feels himself nodding. She leaves the room and comes back with his phone, passing it to him.

She watches him text his boss. "Is it just a headache? Or do you have a visual migraine again, too?"

"It's both." He pushes his phone away and puts his head in his hands.

"Let's just go sit on the couch. You don't need to drink your coffee right now."

He follows her into the living room, holding her hand, and she pulls him onto her lap. He closes his eyes.

"Do you need your pacifier?"

He shakes his head. "No, I told you already. I'm too awake to...to want that stuff right now."

"Are you sure?" She starts to kiss his neck. "You're going to stay home all day. Look, you're biting your nails." She takes his hand out of his mouth and he feels himself starting to slip. That sleepy, slow feeling is creeping in. "I can go get it for you."

Why does it sound kind of nice right now? He feels his head nod up and down again and she gently scoots him off her lap and stands up.

She comes back with the pacifier and a glass of water, but she's holding something else under her arm.

"Is that a pull-up?"

"Yeah," she says, setting it on the coffee table next to his water. "But you don't need to put it on. It can just keep us company for a little bit. Take a sip of water." She waits for him to finish and then fishes the pacifier into his mouth.

He lies back while she rubs his hair.

"Are you feeling better at all?"

He shakes his head.

"I'm going to go get dressed. Drink some more water, okay?"

When she comes back he's lying down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. The little white light in the corner of his eye has split into a rainbow, and it's still wiggling. He squeezes his eyes shut again.

"I think I need to pee."

"Okay, do you need to go to the toilet?"

"I'm worried I'm going to throw up if I stand up," he says quietly.

"How bad do you need to go?"

"Just a little bit."

"Okay," she says, unbuckling his belt and undoing his fly. She pulls off his pants and briefs and he doesn't protest at all as she lifts up his hips to get his pull-up all the way on.

"There. Now you'll be okay if you go a little bit. I'm going to go make food, okay? I'll bring it out here so I can be with you while I eat. Okay?"

He nods, swallowing and rubbing his eyes again. He doesn't want to say it, but the pull-up is really comfortable. He starts to feel tired. The faucet is running in the kitchen, and it sounds so far away. It feels like he's falling deeper into the couch. His pull-up also feels a tiny bit wet and warm.

He hears her footsteps from very far away and then he feels her push his hips up and pull one of those crinkly pads under him. He whines and she shushes him. A heavy, soft blanket is being pulled over him and then he feels the pacifier on his lips again. He opens his mouth and lets her slip it in, relieved that he's finally starting to fall back asleep.

[white-two-wet]

I want this soft intimacy every day forever. Ty 🥺❤️🎀

[mothergo0se]

The breakfast dishes are soaking in warm sudsy water, and I’m rinsing off a pan when I call down the hall:

“Baby, go into the nursery and get yourself changed, okay? Mommy will be there in a minute.”

He shouts back, “’Kay, Mommy!”

A little too eagerly.

That should have been my first clue.

I finish the dishes, dry my hands, and pause for a moment, listening for the normal nursery sounds—the cabinet opening, the soft rustle of wipes, his little murmurs while he wrestles with the tapes.

Instead, I hear the unmistakable clomp… clomp of boots.

Then a metallic clink.

Then an excited little hum that can only mean trouble.

I sigh softly.

Alright. Time to check on whatever masterpiece he’s constructing.

I walk down the hall and push open the nursery door.

And there he stands, proud as the sun:

- fresh, puffy diaper taped neatly

- cowboy boots on the wrong feet

- tiny vest hanging open over his bare tummy

- sheriff’s badge stuck slightly crooked

- giant floppy hat covering half his face

- and no pants whatsoever

He stomps once for dramatic effect.

“Mommy,” he declares, “I’m a cowboy. So I can’t wear pants. Cowboys don’t ‘pposed to.”

Oh, he is so serious.

His little belly pokes out adorably beneath the vest, diaper on full display like part of the official uniform.

I kneel and adjust his hat.

“Well, Sheriff… Mommy needs to run errands.”

He gasps. “Cowboy errands?!”

“Maybe,” I say. “But you’ll need pants for the store. Even cowboys follow store rules.”

He pouts for exactly three seconds before nodding decisively.

“Fine. But the rest stays.”

“Deal.”

I help him into some soft, stretchy pants—his diaper still very obvious underneath—and soon he’s waddling down the hall in boots, vest, badge, hat, and big feelings.

He walks beside me, holding onto the cart with one hand, boots tapping nervously. His hat keeps sliding, and every time it does he pushes it back up with a shy little grunt.

We round the corner into the dairy aisle, and a friendly man in a flannel shirt gives him a warm, harmless smile.

“Well hey there, little cowboy.”

My baby freezes.

He shifts closer to me, gripping my pant leg, eyes wide under the brim of his hat.

He mumbles, barely audible, “I’m… um… I’m… just… I’m just…”

The man’s smile stays kind, gentle, inviting—no teasing, no mockery.

“You on duty today?” the man asks softly, like it’s our little secret.

My baby peeks up at him.

Just a tiny peek.

Then another.

“Y-yeah,” he whispers. “I’m the… the sheriff.”

“Oh wow,” the man says, leaning in a bit. “That’s important work.”

My little’s chest lifts. A shy smile curls at his mouth.

“I’m here to keep everyone safe,” he says, still soft but steadier. “From… um… bad guys.”

“No place better for a brave sheriff,” the man says kindly.

That’s all it takes—my boy glows.

Hat pushed back, shoulders straightening, pride blooming quietly instead of bursting out like usual.

He gives the man a tiny wave and whispers, “Bye,” before returning to my side, gripping the cart again.

As we walk on, he tugs my sleeve.

“Mommy… he wasn’t makin’ fun.”

“I know, baby,” I say, smoothing his vest. “You did very well.”

He beams—shy cowboy glow, warm and small and real.

By the time we pull into the driveway, the sheriff persona has wilted into sleepy little wiggles. His boots are dragging, his hat drooping completely over his eyes.

Inside, he lifts his arms without a word, and I scoop him up.

“Tired cowboy…” he mumbles into my shoulder.

“I know, sweetheart.”

I carry him to the nursery, settle us into the rocking chair, and prepare a warm bottle of milk. His eyes soften the moment I place it in his hands.

He drinks slowly, dreamily, head against my chest, the rise and fall of his breaths syncing with the gentle creak of the rocking chair.

When the bottle is empty, he sighs—the deep, fluttery kind that only comes when he feels completely safe.

I lay him down, tuck his blanket around him, and stroke his hair until his lashes flutter closed.

I can’t remember who gave me the idea of them playing dress up. If it was you, let me know!

[fairiesthesecond]

I can’t believe I’ve gotten him to say “night-night diaper”. I can’t believe I’ve gotten him relaxed enough to just let me change him on the bed before we sleep. It doesn’t need to be a whole ordeal with him blushing and turning away while trying to put it himself on in the bathroom while I’m brushing my teeth.

“Let’s get a diaper on you,” I say, resting a hand on his lower back as we leave the bathroom.

“Let’s get my night-night diaper,” he echoes as we cross the threshold into the bedroom.

“Can you get it for me?” I ask, and he dutifully opens the bottom drawer of his dresser and turns back towards me, holding it in both hands.

“Can you imagine what would happen if someone were to come over,” I say as he climbs onto the bed, “and see your diaper drawer? Maybe if my mom came over and was snooping around…”

“Stooop.”

“And learned you were still a baby…that even though you have a big job now you still need some help or else I’d wake up in a soaked bed every morning.”

“This is private…”

“I know honey. I’m just teasing.”

I push his knees back and he takes the cue and holds his legs up while I slide the diaper under him. I’m not even finished taping it on when a little spurt of pee escapes him and soaks into the padding.

“Oh baby. Why don’t you go potty before I get this on you?”

“I don’t knoww…”

“Honeypie. Do you like going pee-pee in your diaper at night?” I finish with the tapes. He lets his legs fall back onto the bed and rests one hand between his legs. I don’t say anything, watching him to see what he does next.

I watch the diaper swell under his hand.

“Peeing your diaper already?” I tut, finger on my chin. “Right in front of me? Not even trying to hide it?”

He sits up, hand still over his crotch. He moves it away, setting it on his inner thigh.

“Look at your wetness indicator. Well, I guess we don’t have to. You’re soaked.”

He glances up at me and then looks down at his diaper again.

“How often do you do it on purpose? I’ve been kind of curious…”

“Uhh. Fairly frequently…”

I love when he uses big words, even when behaving like this. And that awkward formal phrasing. Coming from someone sitting in front of me, almost naked except for his puffy diaper.

“Does fairly frequently mean every night?”

“Well, no, I…it still happens when I’m asleep, too, so…”

“Uh-huh…but you weren’t asleep just now, were you?”

“No…”

“Were you trying to turn me on? Because it’s working.” I climb onto the bed and push him down onto his back, straddling him with my crotch half a foot over his diaper, hands pushing hard into his shoulders. I shove my knee into his diapered crotch and it squishes against my jeans.

“Ohh…” is all he can say. I undo my fly with one hand and slip my fingers into my underwear, where it’s wet and slick. I rub myself, legs wiggling and shifting without me trying. I lean down and kiss him.

I plant my knees firmly on either side of his torso, kneeling over him.

“I’m going to get myself off now. Let’s see how long you can last without cumming your wet night-night diaper just from watching me, okay?”

He wiggles under me, clenching his teeth.

“I’m guessing not long,” I say, slipping my hand back down into my panties.

[paddedlittleparadise]

🥰🥵🤤

[dog-with-a-job]

Being walked into a store holding my cgs hand. My fingers abesetmindly drift to my mouth and I nervously chew on them as we get deeper inside. They lead my to the baby isle. I stand there frozen as I take in all the colors and shapes. I glance back at my cg and they pat my shoulder saying, “go on, take your time. I’ll be right here.” Hesitantly I step forward to investigate, letting my letting fingers trail over soft textures and pressing all the buttons there are to press. Finally I pause when I reach a small stuffed animal, one of the ones that’s body is a little blankie. The fabric feels so silky as I pet gently down its fur, plastic eyes so friendly and sweet. “It’s that the one you want?” My cg asks. I gently nod in confirmation. They bring it to check out, handing it right back to me once it’s payed for. Back in the car I rub the soft fabric in between my figures, itching to feel the softness against my face. My caregiver seems to notice my growing want. “When we get home we’ll pop them right in the wash to get any icky germs off them alright? Then they’ll be all yours again.” I smile and hum happily showing my nonverbal appreciation, leaning back and relaxing into my car seat and closing my eyes until the soft vibrations of the car lulls me to sleep