I've got a drive ahead of me tomorrow and thankfully I'm a passenger princess so lets have a would yoj rather for my drive home submit your questions amd I'll answer them all tomorrow!
They were halfway around the lake when it happened.
The jogging path had narrowed into a shaded stretch lined with tall pines, the sun dappling the pavement in shifting gold coins. Rose had been quiet and content for most of the run; gently rocking with the motion of the stroller, paci bobbing slowly, one paw mittened hand resting on Slowth’s fuzzy head like she was keeping him company. Clair had even started humming along to her playlist under her breath, feeling the easy rhythm of breath and stride and the soft, happy crinkles coming from behind her.
Then came the tiniest hitch in Rose’s breathing.
Clair slowed her pace instinctively, glancing down through the canopy window.
Rose’s eyes were wider now, pupils dark and uncertain. Her free hand had drifted down to press against the front of her romper; right over the snap crotch, right over the heart print diaper underneath. She shifted once, twice, then froze.
A warmth, spreading rush.
The feeling was unmistakable even through the thick padding. Rose’s thighs tensed, her little body going rigid for a heartbeat before she let out a small, panicked whimper around the pacifier.
Clair immediately eased the stroller to a stop beneath a big oak tree just off the path, brakes clicking softly. She dropped to one knee beside the stroller, one hand resting on Rose’s tummy through the romper.
“Hey, sweet girl,” she murmured, voice low and calm. “Did you go pee pee's?”
Rose’s eyes filled instantly. She nodded once—tiny, miserable—then her lower lip started to tremble hard around the paci shield.
Clair unclipped the harness with quick, gentle fingers and lifted Rose out of the stroller, cradling her against her chest. The diaper was noticeably warmer and heavier now, the hearts on the inner layer already beginning to fade in soft, splotchy patterns. Rose buried her face in Clair’s neck and started to cry; small, hiccuping sobs that quickly grew into something deeper and more broken.
Clair rubbed her back in slow circles, swaying gently on the spot.
“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s just a little accident. Mommy’s got you. We’ve got the changing kit right here.”
But Rose shook her head against Clair’s shoulder, words coming out muffled and choked.
“I… I didn’t even feel it coming,” she sobbed. “I was just… sitting there… and it happened. Like I’m not even in control anymore. Like my body isn’t mine.”
Clair’s heart squeezed. She shifted Rose so she could see her face, thumbs wiping away the tears that were already streaming.
“Baby girl…”
Rose’s voice cracked higher, words tumbling out faster now.
“I used to run. I used to jog by myself. I had a playlist and earbuds and I’d go for miles and feel… strong. Independent. And now I’m just… sitting in a stroller in baby clothes peeing myself without even knowing it’s happening. My adult life is gone, Mommy. It’s just gone. I can’t drive. I can’t go to college. I can’t even keep my own pee inside. I’m never getting it back.”
The last sentence came out as a wail. Rose’s whole body shook with it—small fists clutching Clair’s shirt, tears soaking into the fabric, paci falling from her mouth and dangling on its leash.
Clair didn’t try to shush her this time.
She simply sat down on the wide tree root bench beside the path, settled Rose sideways across her lap, and wrapped both arms around her as tightly as she could without hurting her. One hand cradled the back of Rose’s head; the other rubbed firm, steady strokes from the nape of her neck all the way down to the soaked, sagging seat of the romper.
“I know,” Clair whispered into her hair. “I know it hurts. I know it feels like everything got taken away in one afternoon.”
Rose cried harder, curling smaller against her.
Clair kept rocking, kept rubbing, kept breathing slow and even so Rose could feel it.
“But listen to me, little girl,” she said when the sobs had slowed to shuddering breaths. “Your adult life didn’t disappear. It changed shape. The parts that made you feel strong and free and capable? Those are still in you. They’re just… not quite as needed as they used to be. Covered up by all the little feelings and the new instincts and the big, scary changes. But they’re not gone.”
Rose sniffled wetly. “But I can’t… I can’t be that person anymore.”
“You can’t be that exact version,” Clair agreed softly. “But you can still be brave. You can still feel strong. You can still feel proud. It just looks different now. Like today; you let me put you in a stroller. You let yourself be seen in your romper. You waved at Sofia even though you were shy. That took courage. That was you being strong in a whole new way.”
Rose hiccuped. “But I peed myself…”
“And that’s okay too,” Clair said, kissing her temple. “Your body is doing what a Little's bodies does. It’s not a failure. It’s not a punishment. It’s just… part of the shape your life has now. And Mommy is here for every single part of it. The accidents. The tears. The cuddles after. All of it.”
She reached into the stroller bag, pulled out the changing mat, and spread it on the bench beside them.“Let’s get you changed, sweet girl. Fresh diaper, dry bottom, and then we can decide if we finish the loop or head home for snuggles and a bottle. Your choice.”
Rose stayed quiet for a long moment, face still pressed to Clair’s neck.
Then, in the tiniest voice:“…can we finish the loop? I wanna see the duckies again.”
Clair’s eyes stung. She hugged Rose tighter for one heartbeat.
“Yeah, baby. We can finish the loop.”
She laid Rose down gently on the mat, unsnapped the romper, untaped the heavy diaper, and cleaned her with warm wipes. Powder, two layers of fresh heart print diapers, fresh snap of the romper, harness rebuckled, paci gently replaced.
When Rose was back in the stroller; clean, dry, wrapped in the blanket again. She reached up and caught Clair’s hand.“Mommy?”
“Yeah, princess?”
“Thank you for… not getting mad.”
Clair crouched, kissed her forehead, then each damp cheek. “I could never be mad at you for being exactly who you are. I love every version of you. The big-girl memories. The little girl tears. All of it.”
Rose gave a small, shaky nod.
Clair stood, released the brake, and started jogging again. Slower this time, more careful, one hand resting on the stroller handle and the other reaching every few steps to brush Rose’s cheek or squeeze her mittened hand.
The duckies were still there when they reached the far side of the lake.
Rose watched them paddle in lazy circles, paci bobbing gently, tears drying on her cheeks.
And for the first time since the accident, she let herself smile, just a little, at the way the sunlight caught their green heads.
But she ran with both of them now—her baby girl and the quiet, hurting pieces of the young woman Rose used to be.
I really want to, but life has gotten in the way and I felt like I wasn't able to keep engagement up. That all being said my move will be done in about a month so I should be more able to post.
So i wrote a thing hope you all like it. My take on a classic story. 10 points to whomever can guess the original first and I'll even be willing to take your prompt. And a special guest appearance from @mads-the-dog
The storm howled like a living thing outside the cozy house on the edge of the sleepy town. Inside, a lovely kink family was finishing their last minute checks before heading out. Mommy a tall, curvaceous, and radiating that effortless blend of stern warmth and playful dominance in her fitted jeans and soft gray cardigan adjusted the strap of her oversized diaper bag. “Ollie, baby boy, did you remember your spare pull-up?” she called, her voice honeyed but firm.
Ollie, their switch, toddled over in his shortalls half unclipped and a lime green onesie that did nothing to hide the thick crinkle of his pull-up peeking above the waistband. His cheeks flushed pink under his messy blond hair. “Yes, Mommy… I got the extra thick ones like you said.”
Daddy a broad shouldered, bearded, and exuding that protective Daddy energy in his flannel shirt and jeans; ruffled Ollie’s hair and planted a kiss on Mommy’s temple. “Car’s packed. Let’s get those groceries before the storm really hits. I don’t want my little crinkle bottom getting soaked unless he cant hold his tinkles.” Earing a wild blush from Ollie.
They piled into the family SUV and pulled away, taillights disappearing into the gathering dark.
A few miles down the winding road, Gloria’s old sedan gave one final, pathetic cough and died. Rain hammered the windshield like angry fists. Gloria was in her early 30's, trans with soft curves from years of HRT, long wavy auburn hair plastered to her face, and wide brown doe eyes. "Fuck! Really now?" She was already soaked from the short dash earlier when the engine first sputtered. Her hoodie and leggings clung coldly to her skin.
She stumbled out, clutching her purse, and walked in the downpour for a good 15 minutes before she spotted the warm glow of a house through the trees. Desperate, she hurried up the drive, boots squelching in puddles. She rang the doorbell, nothing. Knocked hard, still nothing. The wind whipped her hair into her eyes. Shivering violently, she tried the knob. It turned.
“Hello?” Her voice echoed in the warmly lit foyer. “Anyone home? My car broke down… I’m so sorry, I just need to get out of the rain…”
Silence. The house smelled like fresh laundry, baby powder, and something sweet; vanilla and oatmeal cookies. Gloria’s teeth chattered as she peeled off her soaked hoodie. She spotted a hallway bathroom and slipped inside.
The bathroom was… odd. A claw foot bathtub and a rain drip shower with rainbow rubber duckies lining the edge. A shelf of bath toys—floating boats, squirting fish, even a bright yellow rubber duck the size of a cantaloupe. Stacks of colorful washcloths embroidered with cute paterns some very little boy coded and others with obviously girly paterns unicorns and pink bunnies. Gloria stripped quickly, her body trembling from the cold. The hot water was heavenly; she stood under the spray until her skin pinked, letting it chase away the chill. She used a bottle of strawberry-scented baby shampoo that sat beside the grown-up body wash, another weird touch.
Drying off with the fluffiest towel she’d ever felt, Gloria realized her clothes were a soggy mess. She cracked the door and peeked into the adjacent laundry room. A basket of clean clothes waited. Most were clearly for a much larger man or woman… or someone playing very little. The only thing that looked like it might fit her frame was a pair of fuzzy pink footie pajamas. Thick, plush fleece with built-in footies, and little white stars and moons printed all over. The inside was lined with soft microfleece. She hesitated only a second before slipping it on. It zipped up the front with a little heart-shaped tab at the collar. The fabric hugged her body perfectly, the padding in the seat cradling her like a gentle hug. She felt ridiculous… and strangely safe.
Her stomach growled loudly. Gloria padded toward the kitchen on silent fleece feet. The fridge held almost nothing, except a single Tupperware of creamy homemade mac and cheese and three adult-sized baby bottles filled with apple juice. The bottles had cute animal prints and silicone nipples. She warmed the mac and cheese in the microwave, then hesitated at the dining table.
Three seats waited. The first chair looked elegant but rigid with a high-back wood with a firm cushion. Gloria sat. Too hard. Her bottom ached against the unyielding seat.
The second chair was enormous, overstuffed leather that practically swallowed her. 'Way too soft" she said as she sank deep, the plush engulfing her like quicksand.
Reluctantly, she eyed the oversized highchair tucked in the corner. It was clearly custom: an attatchable tray, five-point harness, extra-wide seat with a slight dip for comfort. She climbed in, telling herself it was just for a minute. The seat cradled her bottom perfectly. Almost… too well. She clicked the tray into place. It locked with a soft *click*. The mac and cheese was warm and cheesy heaven. She ate quickly, then sipped from one of the juice bottles, the nipple feeling oddly comforting against her tongue.
Belly full and body warm, Gloria wandered the house. Every door except one was locked. The unlocked room was at the end of the hall—an enormous nursery that made her heart skip. Soft pastel walls with a mural of a tree. A massive changing table stocked with wipes, creams, powders, and row after row of diapers in bright prints: unicorns, rockets, teddy bears. She picked one up; it was thicker than anything she’d ever seen and was large enough it would fit her perfectly. A drawer beneath held “toys”—vibrating plugs in every size, soft silicone dildos, chastity cages in pink and black, bottles of lube, and even a few pacifiers with attached straps. Her cheeks burned crimson.
A giant crib dominated the far wall: wooden bars stained in a natural finnish, a thick mattress with unicorn sheets, and a mobile of twinkling stars overhead. The side rail was down. Gloria climbed in, pulled the soft blanket over herself, and sighed. The storm raged outside, but here she felt… safe. Her eyes drifted shut.
Headlights cut through the rain an hour later. Mommy, Daddy, and Ollie stepped inside, shaking off umbrellas. Daddy froze first. “Someone’s been here.” The highchair tray was still out. A juice bottle sat on the counter. Ollie’s eyes lit up. “And they’re still here!" As he pointed to a trail of wet footprints from the door to the bathroom.
They followed the trail of damp footprints noticing the nurserydoor was ajar. Peeking in they see Gloria laying curled in the crib, thumb near her mouth, pink footies slightly unzipped at the chest, breathing peacefully.
Daddy’s voice dropped to a growl. “Little intruder. Cute or not, she’s getting her bottom warmed and sent on her way and if not the police.”
Mommy placed a hand on his arm. “Look at her, honey. She’s tiny. And we passed that broken-down car on the way back, she must have been terrified.” Ollie bounced on his toes, pull-up crinkling. “She’s so cute, Daddy! And she’s wearing my spare footies! Can we keep her? Pleeease?”
Mommy smiled softly pushing the door open as she strode in. “She’s exhausted. Let me handle this.”
Gloria didn’t stir as Mommy gently lifted her out, laid her on the changing table, and unzipped the footies. She worked efficiently but tenderly sliding a pink chastity cage over Gloria’s princess parts, locking it with a soft *click*, then powdering her generously and taping her into an extra-thick nighttime diaper printed with little cute prancing unicorns. The diaper was so bulky Gloria’s thighs spread slightly. Mommy popped a large, bulbous pacifier between Gloria’s lips, clipping it gently to the jammies. She carried the still-sleeping girl back to the crib and raised the rail with a solid thunk.
“Morning, then,” Mommy whispered, brushing a curl from Gloria’s forehead. “We’ll figure this out together.”
Daddy watched from the doorway, arms crossed. A reluctant smile tugged at his beard. “She is pretty cute. Maybe Ollie could use a baby sister to boss around.” Ollie beamed. Mommy retorted "Or better yet boss him around." Earning a blush from Ollie.
That night, Gloria dreamed in vivid color. She was in the highchair again, but this time a strong woman spoon-fed her warm mac and cheese while Daddy bounced her on his knee. Then the dreams turned naughty—hands exploring the drawer of toys, a thick plug in her padded bottom while she squirmed in the crib, soft moans muffled by her paci. She woke with a start to find the crib rail firmly up, her diaper slightly warm and heavy, and the pacifier still strapped in her mouth.
“Hello?” she called, voice muffled. “Anyone?”
Mommy appeared in the doorway wearing a frilly apron, wooden spoon in hand, expression stern but eyes twinkling. “Well, well. Sleeping Beauty finally wakes. You were quite the naughty girl, sneaking into our house uninvited.” She tutted. “Daddy’s gone to get your car towed to the garage. You’ll stay right there in that crib until he’s home, young lady. We’ll talk then.”
Gloria’s eyes widened into the biggest, brownest doe eyes imaginable shimmering, pleading, utterly disarming. Mommy’s stern facade cracked instantly. “Oh, you little stinker… those eyes are dangerous.” She sighed, melted. “I’ll be right back with a bottle. Breakfast shake this time; oatmeal and banana, nice and thick.”
She returned minutes later, and handed Gloria the warm bottle through the bars. Before Gloria could protest, Mommy planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “Drink up, princess. Mommy’s got things to do.” She left, humming.
Ollie toddled in moments later, shortalls riding low to show the waistband of his crinkly pull-up. He climbed onto the changing table stool and stared at Gloria with wide, curious eyes. “Hi! I’m Ollie. Who are you? Where are you from? Are you an ABDL too? Like, for real? Daddy says if he says yes, you could be my new baby sister! Do you like blocks? And cartoons? And… and being changed?”
Gloria, still sucking the bottle, answered between sips—her name, how she’d been driving home from a quiet weekend visiting friends, how she’d always been curious about this kind of stuff but never had anyone to share it with. Ollie listened, enraptured, kicking his feet so his pull-up crinkled loudly.
The front door slammed. Daddy’s voice boomed through the house. “That tow-truck driver was a real dickhead—”
“Language!” Mommy called from the kitchen. “We have littles in the house!”
Daddy appeared in the nursery doorway, towering and intense. “She awake?”
Ollie bounced. “Her name’s Gloria, Daddy! I like her! She’s pretty and she should be my baby sister!”
Daddy pulled up a rocking chair and sat, face to face with Gloria. “Alright, Gloria. Start talking.”
The interrogation lasted less than two minutes before Gloria’s lip trembled, tears spilled, and she broke down sobbing around her paci. “I-I’m so sorry… my car died and it was so cold and I was freezing and I didn’t mean to break in, I just… I just needed to be warm… amd the door was unlocked...”
Daddy’s stern expression melted like butter. He reached through the bars and wiped her cheek with a large calloused thumb. “Shh, baby girl. I believe you. But there still has to be some consequence. Ten firm swats on that bare bottom, then fifteen minutes in the corner. Understood?”
Gloria nodded quickly, sniffling.
Daddy helped her out. Daddy’s hand was large and warm as he pulled her over his lap on the chair, unzipping the pajamas and lowered the diaper just enough, and delivered ten crisp, stinging swats that left her bottom rosy and her eyes watery. She was placed nose to the corner, diaper pulled back up thr glow from her spanking still peeking from the leg bands, paci back in. Mommy and Daddy watched from the doorway.
“She dropped right into little space,” Mommy whispered, impressed. “No fighting it at all.”
The rest of the day was pure bliss. Highchair feedings with bibs and spoons. Playtime on the nursery floor with blocks and stuffies. Cuddle time on Daddy’s lap while cartoons played in the background. Ollie proudly showed her how to build the tallest tower. Nap time in the crib with the rail up and a fresh, extra thick diaper. Another changing, this time with a small plug from the drawer that made Gloria whimper and squirm deliciously.
By evening, after bottles and baths and more cuddles than Gloria had ever known, Mommy and Daddy sat her between them on the big couch. Ollie knelt at their feet, beaming.
Mommy took Gloria’s hand. “We’ve talked it over, sweetheart. You fit here. You fit *perfectly*. Would you like to join our family? For real. Our baby girl. Our little princess. Forever.”
Gloria’s eyes filled with happy tears. She nodded so hard her paci nearly fell out. “Yes… Mommy. Daddy. Please.”
Epilogue: Six Months Later
The house rang with laughter again. Gloria—now fully intigrated in the family, waddling across the living room in her thick diaper and frilly dress, paci bouncing on its clip. Chasing Ollie whod stolen her with a stuffie, both of them giggling as their crinkly bottoms competed for volume.
Mommy watched from the kitchen, stirring dinner, while Daddy rocked in his recliner with a proud smile. The broken-down car had long since been fixed and now sat in the driveway beside the family SUV. Gloria’s old life neatly packed away. She had a permanent spot in the nursery, her own drawer of toys, and a second highchair waiting for meal time.
Every once in a while Gloria would glance at the front door, smile softly, and remember the stormy night that led her home. She never left again.
And they all lived crinkly, cuddly, and happily ever after.
I wanted to take a try a story inspired by the classified universe as well because it hits very close to home. @destinedfordiapers' character Sammy has always been a relatable favorite of mine, and I'm also really enjoying @josies-corner's "A Rose By Any Other Name" so go read those if you haven't already!
The sky glowed a deep midnight blue as the summer sun finished setting. The night was calm and silent except for the hum of the crickets outside. A warm breeze gently drifted through the open window of our shared bedroom; The kind of breeze that just seems to invite deep conversations with your best friend that, more often than not, last well into the morning. The movie we'd been watching on Hannah's TV played indifferently in the background, long forgotten.
Neither of us could not focus on any kind of plotline or follow the story at all, no matter how exciting. How could we? The prospect of receiving our test results in the mail tomorrow morning dwarfed anything the movie was capable of making us feel. If you remember how it felt the night before your birthday as a kid, it feels kind of like that, but with a hint of anxiety. At least, that's how it felt for me anyway.
"I feel like I messed up the mental evaluation test, I was soooo busy studying for the written portion that I totally forgot about the one on ones with the shrink. I probably seemed so distant, he probably put me down as displaying neutral tendencies!"
I felt a pang of annoyance, but said nothing as Hannah yammered about her evaluations for the what felt like the millionth time that summer. Her and her family have done so much for me in the past 3 years, and I didn't want to give them any trouble, regardless of how many times I heard Hannah fret about it.
Back when we'd just graduated highschool, I wanted to hang out with Hannah and some other friends at the afterparty but my dad had work at the crack of dawn so he had to get going, and since dad was going that meant mom was going too. Normally they were fairly strict with me staying alone at these kinds of things, but they surprised me, saying I should to stay and make the memories that would last me a lifetime.
I ended up sleeping over at Hannah's that night, and when I awoke in the morning it was not to the sound of my alarm. It was still dark and I was shaken gently awake by Hannah's mother, Claire. I remember following her to the living room where she turned on a lamp, and gestured for me to sit next to her on the couch. She then carefully broke the news to me that a drunk graduate from my class who'd skipped the afterparty was doing double the speed limit in his brand new graduation gift ignored the stop sign, and hit my parents sedan. It still hurts to say to this day, but they didn't make it.
I don't know how Claire broke that to me gently, but she somehow did. Obviously I was still distraught, but it could have been so much worse. Before I knew it, she'd given me a hug, and a cup of soothing chamomile tea with a bit of honey. I don't remember getting myself back to bed, or much about the rest of the day to be honest, but I woke up the late in the afternoon tucked into the bed on the bottom bunk, which was my default spot whenever I stayed the night. Little did I know that I'd still be sleeping in that same bed three years later.
Hannah and I had been in and out of each others houses for years at that point. Often enough that we might as well have had two homes. Anyone outside the situation would assume, but I was still shocked when Hannah's parents invited me that same afternoon to live with their family while Aly and I completed our post secondary studies for the next 3-4 years. From that day onward, they treated me like I was their own daughter.
That brings us to today. We'd both finished our third year in mid June, and we'd been hoping all summer we'd be eligible for the fourth, and final year of the placement program. Truthfully it was mainly Hannah who was wanting to take the fourth year, but I wasn't so sure myself.
To make a long story short, here's a summary of the 12 page document they send everyone upon enrollment in the program.
During our schooling, we prepare for a series of scientifically crafted tests at the end of the third year which will determine how we will proceed.
The reason this system is in place is because people in the pre-little stage are all different. While some regress hard and fast, others regress slowly and take a while to display symptoms, and still others might experience a mix of symptoms.
This impacts society because unclassified littles may make mistakes that can have anywhere from minor to major concequences based on the adult role they find themselves struggling to keep up with. They might hurt themselves or others in the workplace, behave inappropriately or disruptuvely, etc.
There are three possible results that exist, with an predicted accuracy rating of 99.32% based on an average of all test results. This helps ensure that families and littles have more time to adjust to natural regression that is on a somewhat unpredictable timescale depending on the person.
CAREGIVER:
To take the fourth year, you had to achieve the classification of caregiver. At year three caregiver classifications are offical, but there are a few restrictions as the caregivers are still novices. You rid yourself of novice status by adopting a little and completing the final year of schooling. Luckily the schooling is less frequent in year 4 so novice caregivers may look after their little adequetly while completing the program.
NEUTRAL:
If you were classified as neutral, it means you are fit to go out into the broader world and pursue any career you put in the work to become competent at. You may or may not require additional training, but these individuals are not generally suited for long term caregiving for a variety of reasons. This does not exclude them from temporary supervision of a little. (Little supervisation specialist, or "babysitter" is a common career path for many neutral graduates).
LITTLE:
If you were classified as a little, it means you are not fit to go out into the broader world without supervision from an adult. This is for the little's own safety due to the changes littles experience after their classification. They may only work a select few "safe" jobs part-time, under special circumstances (this clause is currently under scrutiny & may be revoked for the safety of littles & the productivity of non-little employees in the workplace)
Hannah was somehow scared she wasn't going to be classified as a caregiver. It's what she'd always wanted and been working towards so I understand being nervous, but I personally thought she was just comparing herself with her mother. Hannah usually got between 93-99% on past exams, but she was still convinced she somehow managed to bomb the final evaluations.
I was pretty sure I was going to be classified as Neutral. As fulfilling as being a caregiver sounded, it also seemed very overwhelming and time consuming. It's a big responsibility to have, and it's not a role that can be taken lightly.
Then again, the prospect of working a normal 9 to 5 job was daunting in its own right. Every career path always seemed to be incredibly complicated, unreasonable, stressful, or demanding, and I didn't really want to do anything that would be considered a normal career. I wanted a career that was.. well, something that was fun.
"I'll probably end up working as a waitress for the rest of my life.."
Three years. I could hardly believe it had already come and gone that quickly. Hannah
PART 1:
The fog was so thick that I couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction on my way to the university. I gratefully followed our shortcut's well worn trail through the forest that was on campus. It was oddly quiet, like when a fresh snowfall mutes the surrounding area.
Every footstep I took pierced the silence; twigs and leaves occasionally snapping or crunching with a clarity of detail that was often lost on a such a noisy world. A gentle trickling sound slowly became noticable as I continued to walk. Puzzled, I looked around, tried to identify the source of the sound.
I spotted a small river a bit off the path, and wondered how I'd never noticed it there in the three full years Hannah and I had been using the shortcut.
Turning slightly off the path, I began to walk alongside the river instead, appreciating the rhythm and beauty of the flowing water and wondered how I could possibly have been so unobservant before now.
An indistinct but deafening noise suddenly distracted me from the river and I tripped over an exposed root that protruded from the ground, stumbling to regain my balance. I overcompensated and fell head first toward the river. I saw my face's distorted reflection in the reflection of the flowing water and braced myself
I woke up with a jolt. Hannah had unceremoniously shaken me awake, and was now jumping up and down, squealing with joy.
"I've been classified as a Caregiver Lena! I'm actually a caregiver!! I was so worried oh my god!! You were right Lena, I really could have just relaxed all summer!"
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I nodded my head in a supportive gesture and clapped lightly, still laying comfortably in the position I woke up in.
"Oh my god I'm so rude I'm sorry, here's your letter. I couldn't wait to open mine, but at least we can be together to celebrate yours now!"
I rolled my eyes, taking the letter from her outstretched hand. "I'm going to get neutral Han, there's nothing to celebrate. I don't mind though, I'm just happy that you got what you worked so hard for. If anyone deserves it, it's you."
Hannah smiled broadly, and turned away trying, and failing to hide the fact that she was tearing up. Turning back after a moment she said.
"You're a good friend Lena. I know you're not really sure what you want to do quite yet, but Neutrals can do literally anything! And if you get assigned caregiver, you can always rescind your status and default back to neutral."
I smiled in reply, unsure how to respond in a way that didn't sound overly pessimistic. Still laying down, I clumsily began to open the letter with my fingers, seeing Hannah cringe out of the corner of my eye as I did. Ignoring her reaction, I continued until the piece of mail slid through the now mangled top of the envalope. I knew what the letter was going to say before I opened it. As I unfolded the letter Hannah said quickly
" Maybe you should at least sit up, it'll feel like more fun!"
Begrudgingly humoring her, I placed the still folded letter on my bedside table and began to sit up, but faltered, still hidden beneath my fluffly blanket. Something wasn't right.. My legs felt.. cold?
"What's wrong? I know classification letters are nerve wracking but you have to see the results sometime!"
Hannah, sensing now that something was wrong leaned in on the bed to look at me more closely, concern in her eyes.
"Are you okay Lena? You seem like you're somewhere el..
Hannah let her words trail off, carefully lifting herself off of the bed. A patchy, yellowish wet spot that was vaguely shaped like Hannah's hand had seeped through the fluffly blankets and become visible to both of us.
My eyes widened in horror as I finally understood why I was cold.
"It was probably just the stress!"
Hannah reassured hastily in reply to the expression on my face. She said it with just a little too much enthusiasm, trying desperately not to imply what we both immediately feared.
One of the first courses we took at university was Physiology & Psychology of Littles: 101. It explained everything that pre-classified littles may experience before and after their classification, with bedwetting or thumb sucking being the most common early indicators.
I'd already woken up wet twice this year, but it had been easy to write them off. The first time I'd been drinking with some friends and woke up with a little wet spot that had soaked into their couch, which I had hastily covered and hoped people would assume was a spilled drink.
The other time was just a random night a few months ago, which Hannah had convinced me was purely caused by the stress of exams.
This third time seemed a lot more real, amplified by the unrevealed results of my classification letter. Hannah looked me in the eyes, and ignoring the current state of my bedding she asked cautiously,
"Would it be easier for me to read your results and let you know..?"
Emotion was swelling up within me. My life might be about to change forever. I nodded my head quickly, looking away and closing my eyes tight; begging the universe to spare me from what I feared the letter would say.
Hannah began to read aloud, clearly and deliberately:
Dear Ms. Smith, we are pleased to inform you that your classification has been officially codified. Please see below for your updated information. Your existing ID card will be updated & mailed to your current address.
Name: LENA SMITH
Age: 21
Official Classification: NEUTRAL
Age of Majority: CONFIRMED
I let out a sigh of extreme relief as Hannah jumped up and down for me, almost as relieved as I was.
"Thank god. The bedwetting was just the stress after all" she said confidently.
I nodded my head in agreement, relieved but now slightly frustrated and embarrassed again because my bed was still soaked. Hoping for some privacy, I told Hannah timidly
"I'm just going to.. um.. clean up, but did you wanna meet me at the cafe in an hour and we can celebrate with an overpriced breakfast?
Taking the hint, Hannah agreed and left, closing thd door behind her. I waited a few minutes until I heard her leave the house, then I stripped the blankets and sheets off the bed and ran to the washroom to throw them into the laundry. I then quickly hopped in the shower, and finished getting myself ready for the day.
I thought to myself as I locked the front door 45 minutes later "It's been an annoying morning so far but I guess I should count myself lucky I'm not on my way to Littles R Us right now.."
So completely unrelated to any ABDL writing you all may or may not have come to enjoy from my blog, I'm also a DM in dungeons and dragons for some personal vanilla friends and last night I almost party wiped my table with a very Dommy mom inspired character and the way they managed to pull off making her leave them alone and speed off of the train on her Flying chariot pulled by two skeletal Wiverns was by the bard one of the people who know of my ABDL side deciding the best way to do it was bratting at the woman by casting dissonant whispers at third level whispering and this is a quote "Harder Mommy." Now this villain failed the save and was forced tk flee and the only thing I thought to say is next time missy I'll put you in your place as I got flustered and felt like a total fool.
Thought this was hilarious and needed to share. Anyone whos a Dom please help I may not look it but sadly I'm a total subby ABDL girl. So dom doesnt come well to me. And probably need pointers.
Clair finished dressing Rose in the ensemble with gentle, efficient movements.
The romper zipped up the front with a satisfying little zzzip, the fuzzy ears flopping softly on the hood when Rose tilted her head. The booties were thick and cushioned, and the snaps at her crotch closed easily over her thick diaper diaper, which still showed just a hint of white padding at the leg gathers when Rose moved. The mint-green windbreaker went on last, zipped halfway so air could circulate.
Clair stepped back, hands on hips, grinning.“Look at you. Absolute perfection.”
Rose turned in a slow, waddly circle in front of the hallway mirror, paci bobbing, eyes wide as she took in the rounded ears, the way the romper hugged her diapered ass in an exaggerated bubble. She gave a tiny, delighted bounce *crinkle-crinkle* and the ears flopped again.
“Baby,” she mumbled happily into the pacifier.
“That’s right. Mommy’s baby.”
Clair scooped her up, carried her outside to the garage, and settled her into the new jogging stroller: charcoal frame, oversized all-terrain wheels, pastel pink canopy with little star cutouts. A padded insert cradled Rose’s back and bottom, the five-point harness clicked snugly over the romper, and Slowth was buckled into the cupholder beside her like a co-pilot.
Clair clipped the pacifier leash to the romper so it couldn’t fall, tucked a light blanket over Rose’s lap, and gave the stroller a test push.
“Ready for our first adventure, little missy?
Rose nodded fast, clutching Slowth with both hands.
Clair popped in one earbud, started her favorite upbeat running playlist at low volume, and set off down the quiet suburban sidewalk at an easy jog.
The air was cool and clean. Birds chirped. Leaves skittered across the path. Rose’s head turned this way and that under the canopy her eyes huge, curious and still a little nervous to be seen like this; taking in the passing houses, the occasional dog walker, the red cardinal that landed on a fence post and stared right back at her.
Every few minutes Clair glanced down through the clear canopy window.
Rose looked impossibly content: cheeks pink from the breeze, paci working rhythmically, one little hand resting on Slowth’s head like she was petting him in slow motion. The diaper crinkled with each gentle bounce of the stroller.
Clair’s heart felt too big for her chest. They turned onto the wider paved path that looped around the community lake popular with joggers, dog-walkers, and other Caregivers pushing strollers. Clair picked up her pace just a little, settling into the familiar rhythm of breath and footfalls.
That’s when she saw her.
Coming the opposite direction, also jogging, was Sofie, one of Clair’s coworkers from the marketing team. Same department, same floor, same hybrid schedule. Sofie was tall and athletic, with dark hair curly pulled into a high ponytail and neon green running shoes that flashed with every stride. She wore a lightweight long-sleeve top and leggings, AirPods in, clearly in the zone.
Their eyes met at almost the same moment.
Sofie’s stride faltered for half a second. Then her face split into a huge, delighted grin. She slowed to a walk, then stopped completely as Clair eased the stroller to a gentle halt beside her.
“Clair Gordon,” Sofia said, slightly out of breath and laughing, “you have got to be kidding me.”
Clair laughed too, pulling her earbud out. “Sofie! Hi!” Sofie bent at the waist, hands on her knees for a second, then straightened and peered into the stroller.
Her eyes went wide and soft in the exact same second. “Oh… my god.” Rose blinked up at the new person, paci still in place, Slowth hugged close to her chest. After a tiny moment of shyness she lifted one hand in a small, hesitant wave.
Sofie made an involuntary “awww” sound and pressed both hands to her cheeks. “She’s adorable. Clair. Look at her. That romper? The ears? The little sloth buddy? I’m dying.”
Clair rested one hand on the stroller handle, smiling with quiet pride. “This is Rose. My new little. We just made it official a few days ago.”
Sofia’s expression softened even more. “I heard through the grapevine that you’d claimed someone. I didn’t realize it was this recent. She’s brand new?”
“Very,” Clair said. “Still settling in. This is one of our more relaxed outings.”
Sofie crouched down to Rose’s level, keeping a respectful distance but smiling warmly. “Hi, Rose. I’m Sofie. I work with your Mommy. You look like the happiest little I’ve ever seen.”
Rose’s cheeks went pink around the pacifier. She ducked her head a little, but after a second she peeked back up and gave a tiny nod—then lifted Slowth just enough to show him off. Sofie gasped theatrically. “Is that your best friend? He’s so cool. Does he have a name?”
Rose spat the paci out just long enough to whisper, “Slowth.”
“Slowth,” Sofie repeated reverently. “Perfect name for a sloth. Hi, Slowth.” She gave a little wave to the stuffie, then looked back at Clair. “Okay, seriously. How are you functioning right now? I’ve been certified for almost two years and I still don’t have a Little and every time I see one in the “wild” I turn into a puddle. And now you’re out here jogging with this little angel? I’m so jealous I gonna cry.”
Clair chuckled. “It still doesn’t feel surreal some days. But yeah… she’s mine.” Sofie stood up slowly, eyes lingering on Rose a moment longer.
“She’s lucky to have you. And honestly? You look so… settled. Like everything finally clicked into place.” Clair glanced down at Rose; now sucking the paci again, contentedly watching a pair of ducks paddle across the lake and felt that same quiet certainty settle deeper into her bones.
“It really did,” she said softly.
Sofie gave her a playful nudge on the shoulder. “Alright, I won’t keep you two lovebirds from your jog. But you have to bring her to the next team happy hour. I want to show her off to everyone. And maybe bribe her with animal crackers so she likes me.”
Clair grinned. “Deal. We’ll be there.”
Sofie gave Rose one last beaming smile and a little finger wave.
“Bye, Rose. Bye, Slowth. Be good for Mommy, okay?” Rose wiggled her fingers back. Sofie jogged off with a final wave over her shoulder, neon shoes flashing.
Clair watched her go for a second, then looked down at her baby again. “Ready to keep going, little missy?” Rose nodded, eyes bright. Clair started jogging again slower this time, savoring the rhythm, the breeze, the tiny crinkles and contented sighs coming from the stroller.
The path curved around the lake.
The sun climbed higher. And for the first time, Clair didn’t feel like she was running toward anything.She was already exactly where she belonged.
The next morning the air smelled like fresh coffee and the promise of crisp early morning sunshine. Clair had already changed Rose out of her overnight double diapers into a fresh single layer thick enough to give her that adorable, unmistakable waddle, but not so bulky she’d overheat on their first real outdoor adventure.
Rose was currently cross-legged on the living-room floor, surrounded by a wide semicircle of colored pencils and a brand-new activity book Clair had pulled from the Littles R Us bag yesterday: Mega Dot-to-Dot Adventures – 1,200+ Dots! The current page was a massive, sprawling sloth hanging from a tree, every curve and every leaf and hand defined by tiny numbered dots that twisted and looped in astounding complexity.
Clair had given her the task right after breakfast with a gentle kiss on the forehead and a very serious Mommy-voice “I need my big brave girl to finish at least half of this picture while Mommy gets ready for our jog, okay? It’s a special present for me. When it’s done I want to see the prettiest picture ever colored in. Can you do that for Mommy?”
Rose had nodded solemnly, eyes huge and determined.
“Yes, Mommy. Special present.”
So now Rose was hunched over the page, tongue poking out the side of her mouth in concentration, carefully connecting dot #478 to #479 with a wobbly pink line. She’d already finished the sloth’s tummy and one hand; the rest of him sprawled across two full pages like a connect-the-dots continent.
Clair watched from the hallway for a long moment, heart doing that soft, aching thing it did every time Rose tried extra hard to be good for her.
She finished lacing her running shoes, tugged her ponytail through the back of her baseball cap, then padded quietly back toward the living room to check progress.
Rose was still going strong… but her right hand had started drifting upward. Thumb creeping closer and closer to her lips. She caught herself once, twice—shook her head like she was trying to stay focused—then finally gave in. The thumb slid into her mouth with a tiny, wet sound. She sucked once, deeply, eyes going soft and glassy as the pencil slipped from her other fingers.Clair’s brows lifted.
Ohhh, we’re developing a habit.
She crossed the room in three quiet steps and crouched beside her baby.
“Hey, sweet girl.”
Rose startled, thumb popping out with a guilty little smack. Her cheeks instantly flamed. “I… I was doing good, Mommy, I swear…”
“You were doing good,” Clair said gently. She reached for the oversized pacifier clipped to Rose’s blouse and popped it between Rose’s parted lips before she could protest. “But Mommy noticed something. That thumb is starting to feel like a comfort toy, isn’t it?”
Rose’s eyes flicked down in shame. She gave one small, suckling nod around the paci.
Clair cupped her chin tenderly, thumb brushing over the shield of Rose's paci. “It’s okay to need something in your mouth, Baby girl. But we’re going to use the paci instead of the thumb from now on, alright? It’s bigger, it’s cleaner, and it’s made for my baby. No more sneaky thumb-sucking when you’re concentrating. Promise Mommy?”
Rose’s lashes fluttered. She nodded again, slow and obedient paci bobbing with the motion.
“Good girl.” Clair kissed the tip of her nose. “You can keep coloring. You’re almost to the tree. Mommy’s so proud.”
She stood and moved toward the nursery to gather Rose’s jogging outfit.
The ‘jogging look’ had been planned since yesterday: something cute, safe, and shamelessly Little.
Clair pulled open the dresser drawer labeled Outdoor Adventures and lifted out the carefully chosen pieces: A soft hooded romper, short sleeves, snap crotch for easy changes, fuzzy ears on the hood, and adorable booties for her feet. A lightweight windbreaker vest in pale mint that would keep the chill off without overheating her Little girl. A lightweight harness leash in pale pink perfect for clipping to the stroller or holding in hand if Rose wanted to toddle a few steps.
And, of course, an extra-thick changing kit already packed to be dropped in the strollers under the seat: wipes, powder, two spare heart-print diapers, a small tube of rash cream, and a backup onesie just in case.
Clair laid everything out on the changing table, smiling to herself as she pictured it: Rose bundled up in full Little glory, cheeks rosy from the cool air, paci bobbing, Slowth riding shotgun in the stroller cupholder, hearts on her diaper staying proudly unfaded; at least until the first juice bottle had something to say about it.
She glanced back toward the living room.
Rose had already gone back to the dot-to-dot paci working steadily now instead of the thumb. Her little brow was furrowed in focus again, pencil scratching carefully from #512 to #513. The sloth's second hand was starting to take shape.
Clair’s chest swelled with quiet, overwhelming love.
My baby. My hard worker. My everything.
She picked up the romper and headed back out to the living room, voice warm and playful. “Alright, little artist. Time to pause the masterpiece and get dressed for our jog. Mommy’s ready to show off her cutest jogging buddy.”
Rose looked up, eyes sparkling around the pacifier, crayon still clutched in her fist.
“Is the picture pretty yet?” she asked, muffled and hopeful.
Clair knelt and turned the page toward her.
“The prettiest sloth I’ve ever seen,” she said, kissing Rose’s forehead. “And when we get back from our jog, we’ll finish him together. Deal?”
Rose beamed around the paci and nodded fast. “Deal, Mommy!”
Clair lifted her under the arms, thick diaper crinkling happily, and carried her toward the changing table.
Time to turn her baby girl into the most adorable Little on the jogging path.
(You guys get a twofer today as I felt this chapter wasn't great as a stand alone but I really wanted this one to give a perspective from Clair. Lots of love yall!)
Chapter 11: This Is All Mine
Later that evening the house was quiet in the soft, golden way only late afternoons could get.
Rose was sprawled tummy-down on the thick play-mat in the living room, unicorn skirt rucked up around her hips so the double layer diapers puffed out in a perfect, crinkly bubble butt. Slowth was tucked under one arm, the little sloth’s long limbs dangling limply while Rose absentmindedly chewed on one of his hands. She’d been coloring for the last twenty minutes crayon strokes across a page that was intricate but in that Little way where the more tailed she got it it still felt childish. Every few minutes she gave a tiny, contented wiggle, making the diapers rustle and the faded hearts on the crotch fade a little more.
Clair sat on the couch with her legs tucked under her, nursing top loosely fastened from earlier when Rose had needed comfort after the box of old things had been quietly put away in the nursery closet. She hadn’t bothered to fix it yet. The soft cotton hung loosely, a faint damp spot still darkening the fabric where her body had responded on instinct, memory, love, all at once.
She watched Rose and let her mind drift backward, tracing the long, winding path that had brought her to this exact moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her parents had both been Neutrals, steady and practical people who loved their children but never quite understood the deeper currents that ran through the world after the classifications began. When Clair turned eighteen and the test came back Caregiver the house had gone quiet for a single stunned evening. Then her mother had hugged her tight and said, simply, “We’ll figure it out.” And they had. They always did.
College had come next. A state university with a well-regarded Caregiver Studies program. Clair had moved into the mixed dorms on the east side of campus nicknamed “The Nest” because almost every floor had at least three or four new Caregivers living there. The halls always smelled faintly of baby powder and warm laundry even though no Littles were allowed on the premises yet.
Nights in those dorm rooms had been something else entirely.
Late study sessions would dissolve into something softer. Lights low, laptops closed, a few of them sprawled across beanbags and the floor with mugs of herbal tea or hot coffee. They’d talk quietly at first, then with growing wonder about the changes they were already feeling.The way their arms felt stronger, like they could carry someone for hours without tiring.
The way their chests ached sometimes, tender and full, even before any milk came in.
The way their dreams had started filling with tiny hands reaching up, soft cheeks pressed to shoulders, the smell of clean diapers and warm skin.
They’d giggle and confess and fantasize.
One caregiver Ethan, broad-shouldered and gentle, said he dreamed of a Little with curly red hair who loved trains and would fall asleep curled against his chest every night.
A girl named Stephanie wanted twin littles, two little girls who’d match in pastel dresses and matching bows.
Someone else said they didn’t care what the Little looked like, just that they’d call them “Daddy” in the tiniest, neediest voice.
Clair had been shy about it at first. But one night, maybe three semesters in, when her own body had finally started producing small, warm drops that soaked through her shirts at the worst possible moments, she’d let it spill out. “I want… someone small,” she’d said, cheeks burning. “Someone who needs me all the time. Someone who’ll let me hold them until they forget how to be scared. And I want them to love pandas. Like, obsessed with pandas. Black and white onesies, panda ears on their hoodies, little panda stuffies everywhere. And when I nurse them… I want them to look up at me like I’m the safest place in the whole world.”
Right on cue her nursing bra had sprung a leak two dark circles blooming across her shirt.
The room erupted in delighted laughter, teasing, happy squeals. Someone threw a pillow at her. Someone else hugged her from the side and whispered, “You’re going to be the best Mommy.”
She’d laughed with them, embarrassed and thrilled and so sure it would happen someday.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And now…Clair’s gaze settled again on Rose.
Rose, whose bubble butt was currently crinkled with each sleepy breath. Rose, whose unicorn skirt had ridden up just enough to show the double-thick padding and the faded hearts from the apple-juice accident during coloring. Rose, who had one hand curled possessively around Slowth and the other thumb resting near her mouth, ready to slip inside the second she drifted deeper.
Clair’s throat tightened.
This is all mine.
Not a fantasy whispered in a dorm room at 2 a.m. Not a dream she had to hold with both hands so it wouldn’t slip away.
Real.
Warm.
Here.
Hers.
The little girl who’d been terrified she’d be sent to a placement home was now sprawled in the middle of Clair’s living room, wearing two of the thickest diapers money could buy, dressed in a skirt that barely pretended to cover anything, and looking so utterly content it made Clair’s chest ache in the best possible way.
Clair slid off the couch and lowered herself to the play mat beside her baby.
She lay down on her side, head propped on one hand, and reached out to trace one gentle fingertip along the puffy curve of Rose’s diapered bottom.
Rose stirred, eyes peering at her with warmth.
“Mommy…?”
“Right here, baby girl,” Clair whispered.
Rose smiled sleepy, trusting, perfect and rolled toward her, tucking herself against Clair’s chest like she belonged there.
Because she did.
Clair wrapped both arms around her, kissed the top of her head, and breathed in the scent of little shampoo and clean diapers and something sweeter underneath something that was just Rose.
This is all mine.
And for the first time in her life, the fantasy didn’t feel like something she was still waiting for.
The next morning Rose woke up in the crib with the familiar heavy squish of overnight double diapers and the soft weight of Slowth tucked under her chin. In a beautiful nightie mommy must have changed her while she slept. Sunlight slipped through the nursery curtains in warm stripes across the changing table and the rocking chair.
Clair came in a few minutes later carrying a warm bottle of milk. She lowered the crib side, lifted Rose out with practiced ease, and settled them both in the rocking chair for the first feed of the day.
After Rose had drunk half the bottle and was drowsily suckling the rest, Clair reached over and clicked the nursery TV off. The cheerful cartoon music cut out abruptly.
Rose blinked up at her, confused. “No more today, sweet girl,” Clair said gently, brushing a stray curl from Rose’s forehead. “Mommy doesn’t want you turning into a little vegetable in front of the screen. We can have quiet time, or playtime, or story time instead. But first…” She shifted Rose so they were facing each other more comfortably. “I can see those big thoughts are still swimming around in there. You wanna ask me anything?”
Rose pulled off the bottle nipple with a tiny wet pop. She looked down at her padded crotch, then back up at Clair. Her voice was small, hesitant, but determined. “What… what does forever actually look like?”
Clair smiled softly and started rocking them again, slow and steady.
“Tell me what parts you’re worried about, baby.”
Rose swallowed. “School. I was supposed to go to college. Now… Do I just… not learn anything anymore? Or is it home school? Or—or daycare?”
Clair kissed the top of her head. “You’ll keep learning, sweetheart. Just differently. We’ll do home-schooling together—gentle things that fit your little space. Picture books, coloring while we talk about shapes and colors and letters, sensory bins, simple science experiments. When you’re feeling bigger and more verbal, we can do short online classes made just for Littles learning wrapped in fun, advanced mathematics wrapped in games, gentle history, art projects. And when you need more structure, there are wonderful Little's daycares nearby. Play-based, very nurturing. You’d get to have friends your classification, group story time, nap time on mats. Mommy would drop you off and pick you up, just like any other preschool.”
Rose chewed her lip. “And… when you have to go back to work?”
Clair’s arms tightened around her just a fraction.
“I’ll be working hybrid starting next month—three days from home, two in the office. On home days, you’ll be right here with me. We’ll set up a playpen next to my desk so you can color or play quietly while I’m on calls. On office days, you’ll either come with me or you’ll go to the same daycare we just talked about. Or, if you’re feeling extra small that day, Auntie Jack already said they’d love to babysit. They’re only twenty minutes away.”
Rose’s eyes went a little shiny. “So… I won’t be alone?”
“Never,” Clair said firmly. “Not even for a minute.”
Another long pause. Rose traced one of the bunny decals on her nightie with her finger.
“Can we still… go outside? Now that I’m a Little? Like… parks? Stores? Or do I have to stay inside forever?”
Clair laughed quietly, warm and fond.
“Oh baby, we’re going everywhere. Even if a little in just their diapers is completely acceptable in public. You’ll see other Littles waddling around stores, parks, cafés, all the time. No one bats an eye. And honestly?” She leaned down and whispered like it was a secret. “Mommy’s already daydreaming about jogging with you in the big stroller. You in your little heart diapers and a sun hat, holding Slowth, waving at the ducks in the park while Mommy gets her run in. The thought makes me stupidly happy.”
Rose’s cheeks went pink, but a tiny smile tugged at her mouth.
“Really?”
“Really. We’ll get the cutest stroller cover to match your unicorn skirt. You’ll be my little jogging buddy.”
Rose nodded slowly, the last question bubbling up.
“And… after all that? My future. What happens when I’m… older? Like, twenty-five? Thirty? Do I just stay like this forever?”
Clair stopped rocking for a moment. She cupped Rose’s face in both hands and looked straight into her eyes.
“Your life isn’t measured in milestones anymore, sweet girl. Not the way the big world counts them—degrees, promotions, houses, kids of your own, retirement. That measuring stick doesn’t fit us.”
She brushed her thumbs over Rose’s cheeks.
“Instead we measure in love. In joy. In how many times you laugh so hard milk comes out your nose. In how many new stuffies you adopt. In how many times you fall asleep on my chest feeling completely safe. In how many times you look at me and say ‘Mommy’ like it’s the best word in the world. In how many sunsets we watch from the porch swing while you’re in footie pajamas. In how many times Jack comes over and we all make a blanket fort and pretend the whole world is just us.”
Rose’s eyes filled up again, but these tears were different—softer.
“So… my future is just… being loved?”
“Your future is being so loved that you never have to earn it, never have to prove it, never have to be anything other than exactly who you are right now. And that’s the most beautiful future I can imagine.”
Rose let out a long, trembling breath. Then she buried her face in Clair’s neck and hugged her as tight as her little arms could manage.
“I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you bigger than the sky, Rose Gordon.”
They stayed like that—rocking, breathing, being—until the doorbell chimed.Clair glanced toward the hall. “That’ll be Jack. They texted earlier saying they had something for you.”
She carried Rose to the living room and opened the door one-handed.
Jack stood there holding a large cardboard box labeled in black marker: Rose’ shit. Their expression was carefully neutral, but their eyes were a little red.
“Hey,” Jack said softly. “Your parents dropped this off at my place last night. Said they didn’t want to… see you. But they figured you might want your stuff.”
Rose looked at the box, then up at Clair, then back at Jack.Clair kissed her temple. “We don’t have to open it right now if you don’t want to, baby.”
But Rose shook her head—just once, small but certain.
“I wanna see.”
Jack stepped inside, set the box on the coffee table, and knelt beside it.
Rose stayed on Clair’s hip, clinging tight, while Jack carefully opened the flaps.
Inside were pieces of her old life: a few favorite hoodies, her sketchbook full of half-finished drawings, the little ceramic cat figurine she’d painted in middle school, a stack of photo prints from high-school moments with Jack, her acceptance letter from the college (still in its envelope), a small jewelry box with the simple silver necklace from her grandmother.
At the very bottom—wrapped in tissue paper—was a tiny gold star with a tag that read “For my best friend and Rockstar” in Jack’s handwriting from years ago.
Rose reached for it with trembling fingers.
Jack’s voice cracked. “I bought that for you the night you came out to me. You said you felt like a falling star. I told you falling stars are the prettiest ones.”
Rose clasped the star tightly and held it close to her chest, right next to Slowth.
Clair rubbed her back in slow circles.
Jack looked up at Rose, eyes shining.“You’re still a rockstar. Even if you're a Little one now.”
Rose snorted and leaned forward from Clair’s arms and pressed her forehead against Jack’s.
“Auntie Jack?” she whispered.
Jack laughed through tears. “Yeah. Auntie Jack. Forever.”
Clair squeezed them both in a tight hug, Rose squished happily between her Mommy and her Auntie.
The box of old things sat open on the table.
But Rose wasn’t looking at it anymore.
She was looking between the two people who had chosen her and feeling that forever might not be something to be afraid of.
It might just be the safest place she’d ever land.
Sorry everyone I forgot that my cue was only filled till my birthday I've been distracted by a lot in my personal life. Lots of love and all the positive vibes I can send. I've got things edited down just need to transfer them to the cue so regulat posting will continue, im hoping for from here on out maybe Rose by Any other name on Tuesdays, and every other weekly Thursday's Final Frontier. Lots of love yall!
If you have a No Kings Protest please step up and be loud and honest if you feel inclined!
Remember yall My asks are always open honestly the couple of times I've done it I've loved it!
It happened on the third full day at home.The morning had been perfect in that syrupy, baby-soft way: double heart diapers freshly taped on after breakfast, the new unicorn skirt flouncing around Rose’s thick padded bottom while she “helped” Mommy fold laundry (which mostly meant hugging Slowth and occasionally handing Clair one sock at a time). Cartoons had played in the background, lunch had been grilled cheese cut up in tiny bites and apple slices dipped in peanut butter, and naptime had come with gentle rocking in the big rocking chair until Rose’s eyelids fluttered shut.
But when she woke from her nap in the crib, thumb in her mouth, the faint scent of baby powder and lavender clinging to her skin—something felt… different.
Heavier.
She lay there on her back, staring up at the soft mobile spinning slowly above her, little stars and moons drifting in lazy circles.
And the thoughts came anyway.
College.
She had gotten the acceptance email two weeks before classification day. A small liberal-arts school two states away. They’d offered her a partial scholarship for her portfolio. She’d printed the letter, cried happy tears in Jack’s car, and told herself she was finally going to be somebody.
Now the letter was probably still sitting in a box at her parents’ house. Or maybe they’d thrown it away.
Did colleges even take Littles?
She knew the answer already. She’d seen the forums, heard the stories. Most schools had quietly stopped accepting newly classified Littles years ago. “Safety concerns,” “inability to complete coursework independently,” “disruption to campus environment.” The polite ways of saying we don’t want diapered students in lecture halls.
Rose’s chest started to feel tight.
She rolled onto her side, the double diapers crinkling loudly under the unicorn skirt. The hearts were still bright; she hadn’t had an accident since right after lunch. But that didn’t matter.Jack.
Jack got to keep going. Jack got to drive their beat-up hatchback to community college classes next fall, get an apartment maybe, date people, stay up late, drink coffee that wasn’t 90% milk in a sippy cup, wear jeans without snaps at the crotch.
And Rose…Rose would be here.
Forever padded.
Forever little.
Forever clinging to Jack’s big sister’s skirt while Jack grew up and moved forward and maybe even… forgot her a little.
The word Auntie floated into her head like a cruel little bubble.
Auntie Jack.
Because that’s what happened, right? When your best friend becomes your older sister's forever baby. The titles shift. The distance grows. Jack would come over on weekends and coo at her the way grown-ups coo at toddlers, bring her little presents, pat her head, then go back to their real life while Rose stayed here in footie pajamas and double diapers.
A sob tore out of her before she could stop it.
She curled tighter around Slowth, face buried in his soft tan fur, and cried—real, ugly, choking cries that made her whole body shake.
The crib side rattled as Clair appeared in the doorway almost instantly.
“Baby girl?”
Rose couldn’t answer. She just cried harder, shoulders hitching, little fists clutching the sloth like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely.
Clair was across the room in seconds. The crib side dropped with a soft click. Strong arms lifted Rose out, thick padding and all, and cradled her against a warm chest.
“Shhh, shhh, Mommy’s here. Mommy’s got you, are you hurt, did you get an owie?”
Rose pressed her wet face into the crook of Clair’s neck and wailed.
“I—I don’t get to go to college,” she choked out between sobs. “They don’t take Littles. And Jack—Jack gets to grow up and—and I’m gonna be stuck like this forever and you’re gonna get tired of changing me and—and Jack’s gonna be my auntie and I’m gonna be the baby while she gets a real life—”
The words tumbled out fast and broken and terrified.
Clair didn’t interrupt. She just carried Rose to the big rocking chair in the corner of the nursery, settled down with Rose straddling her lap facing her, thick double diaper squishing between them. One hand rubbed slow, firm circles on Rose’s back while the other cupped the back of her head, keeping her close.
When Rose’s crying slowed to hiccuping sniffles, Clair spoke—low, calm, unshakable.
“Listen to me, sweet girl.” She tilted Rose’s chin up gently so their eyes met. “You are not stuck. You are safe. There’s a difference.”
Rose sniffled, eyes huge and red.
“College… Yes, that door probably closed when the classification came through. And I know that hurts. It hurts a lot. You had plans. Dreams. I see them. I’m not pretending they don’t matter.”
Another tear slipped down Rose’s cheek. “But listen,” Clair continued, thumb brushing the tear away. “Your life didn’t end. It changed shape. And the shape it changed into is one where you get to be loved so completely, so unconditionally, that you never have to wonder if you’re wanted. Not once. Not ever.”
She pressed her forehead to Rose’s.
“Jack is never going to stop being your best friend. Never. They’ll come over and play with you on the floor, bring you sour candies, tease you about how cute your waddle is, and then they’ll go to class and text you dumb memes at 2 a.m. because that’s what best friends do. They don’t replace you with ‘auntie’ status. They just… get to love you in a new way too.”
Rose hiccuped. “But I’ll be the baby. Forever.”
“You’ll be my baby. And Jack’s little rock star niece. And maybe someday someone else’s cousin or playmate. But that doesn’t make you less. It makes you cherished.”
Clair shifted Rose slightly in her lap, guiding her head down until Rose’s cheek rested against the soft swell of her chest.
“And right now,” she murmured, “my baby needs Mommy. Not big-girl thoughts. Not college brochures. Just milk and cuddles and knowing she’s never getting left behind.”
She reached down with one hand, unbuttoned the top of her soft nursing top, and guided Rose’s mouth to her breast.
Rose hesitated for half a second, embarrassment flaring, then latched on with a small, needy whimper.
The first warm rush hit her tongue and she melted.
All the jagged edges of the big thoughts smoothed out, just a little. The milk was sweet and warm and steady. Clair rocked them slowly, humming a low, gentle tune, one hand stroking Rose’s hair while the other held her securely against her body.
Minutes passed like that—quiet, milky, safe.
When Rose finally pulled back, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy, Clair kissed her forehead, then each eyelid, then the tip of her nose.“Better?” she whispered.
Rose nodded against her chest, voice tiny. “‘M sorry I got scared.”
“You’re allowed to get scared,” Clair said, hugging her tighter. “Big thoughts are allowed to hurt. But they don’t get to win. Mommy wins. Cuddles win. You win.”
Rose let out a long, shaky breath and snuggled deeper.
“Can we… watch cartoons? And maybe… try on the bunny-ear dress?”
Clair smiled against her hair. “Cartoons. Bunny-ear dress. Extra-thick double diapers. And as many cuddles as my little girl wants.”
Rose’s arms wrapped around Clair’s neck. “Love you, Mommy.”
“Love you more, Rose Gordon. Forever and always.”
And for the rest of the afternoon, the big thoughts quieted down, tucked away behind the crinkle of fresh diapers, the soft flounce of a bunny-eared dress, and the steady heartbeat of the woman who had chosen her exactly as she was.
Back home, the early-afternoon light poured through the living-room windows in soft golden puddles. Clair carried Rose straight to the nursery changing table, Slowth tucked safely under one arm like a little security blanket.
“Time for your very first official double-diaper change, baby girl,” Clair said with a playful lilt, laying Rose down gently. “Mommy wants you extra padded and extra cute today.”
Rose’s cheeks were already flushed, but the candy haze from yesterday had mostly faded—leaving behind a sweet, floaty little feeling instead of heavy fog. She still let her legs be lifted without protest, knees bent toward her chest, the soggy diaper from her morning change rustling softly.
Clair was quick and practiced. She untaped the wet one, wiped Rose clean with warm wipes that smelled faintly of aloe, dusted her with lavender scented baby powder, then slid the first fresh diaper underneath. The white padding was thick already, purple sides crinkling happily as Clair pulled the front up and taped it snug.
But she didn’t stop there.
She reached for a second identical diaper from the open case beside the table. “Double means double the hearts,” Clair murmured, unfolding the second one and carefully sliding it over the first. The bulk doubled instantly—Rose’s thighs were forced a little farther apart, the combined padding so thick it made a soft crunch when Clair smoothed it down and taped the outer layer securely.
Rose let out a tiny, involuntary whimper of embarrassed delight. The double layer made every tiny movement loud and obvious. She could already feel how waddly she was going to be.
Clair snapped Rose's leggings back over the massive double bulge, then lifted her under the arms and set her on her feet. “Go on, sweet girl. Show Mommy your waddle.”
Rose took one experimental step. Then another. The thick padding forced her legs apart in an unmistakable toddler toddle, every step accompanied by loud, happy crinkles and the faint rustle of plastic. Her face burned scarlet, but her eyes were shining.
Clair grinned, utterly smitten. “That’s my perfect little waddler.”
She scooped Rose up again—because walking all the way to the living room in double diapers clearly deserved a carry—and settled her into the big, cushioned playpen that now lived permanently in the corner by the TV. A soft blanket, and a couple of board books were already waiting inside. Slowth still in her arms.
Clair clicked on the TV to a gentle cartoon channel—bright colors, singing animals, simple songs about friendship and feelings. “There we go,” she said, kissing Rose’s forehead. “Mommy’s going to put away your new things and make us some lunch. You stay right here and watch your shows, okay? Yell if you need anything.”
Rose nodded, already sinking down onto her padded bottom with a plush poof. The double diapers made sitting feel like perching on a cloud. She hugged Slowth tight against her chest and stared up at the screen.
The colors and music wrapped around her like a warm blanket.
For the next twenty minutes or so, Rose drifted. Not asleep, not awake—just floating in pure, uncomplicated joy. The cartoons sang, the hearts on her diapers stayed bright and unfaded, Slowth’s soft fur tickled her cheek, and every so often she gave a tiny, contented wiggle that made the padding crinkle louder. She felt small. She felt safe. She felt loved.
Meanwhile, Clair was a happy whirlwind.
She carried the two huge cases of heart-print diapers to the nursery closet and stacked them neatly on the dedicated shelf. She hung the new skirts and dresses in the little wardrobe—cooing over each one as she smoothed them out. “That pink skirtall set is going to be dangerous with these diapers,” she muttered to herself with a grin. “And this tennis dress? Oh yes. Instant cuteness overload.”
She moved to the kitchen next, humming as she pulled out ingredients for grilled cheese and tomato soup classic comfort-food. While the pan heated, she opened her phone and scrolled through the Littles R Us online shop, adding to cart without really thinking.
A unicorn skirt popped up in the “customers also bought” section—shimmery pastel fabric, layered tulle, tiny embroidered unicorns prancing across the hem, and most importantly barely long enough to cover a double diaper. “That’s coming home with me,” Clair said out loud, tapping “Add to Cart” immediately.
Then another one appeared: a soft mint-green babydoll dress with a little bunny-ear hood and pom-pom ties.“Oh that’s cute. That one too.”
She was so distracted adding more items—matching hair bows, a set of pastel teething rings, a bottle with little stars on it—that she didn’t hear the front door open with the spare key Jack still had.
Jack stepped inside quietly, carrying a little paper bag of Rose’s favorite sour candies from the corner store.
“Hey, I just wanted to check—oh.”
Jack froze in the doorway, taking in the scene: Rose in the playpen, cheeks round and rosy, double-diaper bulge very obviously over the top of the leggings, eyes glued to the TV in total bliss, Slowth clutched under her chin.
Clair in the kitchen, phone in one hand, spatula in the other, muttering happily about “the bunny-ear dress is non-negotiable.”
Jack’s heart did a funny little flip. They smiled so wide it hurt.
Rose was the first to notice them.
Her head turned slowly, like she was moving through honey. When her eyes landed on Jack, they lit up like Christmas lights.
Without a word, Rose lifted Slowth high above her head with both hands, offering him like the most precious treasure in the world. Then she made the tiniest, grabbiest little hands toward Jack—open and closed, open and closed—silent baby language for come here come here come here.
Jack’s throat tightened. They crossed the room in three quick steps and knelt beside the playpen.
“Hey, rockstar,” they whispered.
Rose leaned forward, still holding Slowth out. When Jack was close enough, Rose reached for the stuffed bunny Jack had given them, picked it up pressed her lips to the top of the gray bunny’s head—once, soft and deliberate—then pushed the bunny gently into Jack’s hands.
A tiny, serious offering.
Thank you.
He’s home. You’re safe now. Take him home. Jack’s eyes went glassy. They cradled the bunny against their chest exactly the way Rose always had.
“You’re sure?” they asked, voice thick.Rose nodded once—small, certain—then reached through the playpen bars and patted Jack’s cheek with one hand.
Jack laughed wetly. “Okay. Okay, I’ll take him home. He’ll have the best spot on my pillow, promise.”
They leaned in and kissed Rose’s forehead, lingering for a long second.
“You look so happy, Rose Gordon. I’m so proud of you.”
Behind them, Clair finally looked up from her phone and startled. “Jack! When did you sneak in?”
“Just now,” Jack said, standing and wiping their eyes with the back of their hand. “I was gonna drop off some sour candies and check on her. Looks like I’m not needed anymore.”
Clair came over and pulled Jack into a one-armed hug. “You’re always needed. You’re family.”
Jack hugged back, then looked down at Rose—who was already turning back to the cartoons, content now that her thank-you had been delivered. “She’s… really settled, huh?”
“Yeah,” Clair said softly, watching her baby girl with shining eyes. “She really is.”
Jack gave the bunny one last squeeze, then set him carefully under their arm so Rose could still see him. “I’ll send pictures of where he’s sleeping,” they promised Rose. “Love you, little star.”
Rose didn’t look away from the screen, but she lifted one hand in a tiny wave, fingers wiggling.
Jack smiled, waved back, and slipped out as quietly as they’d come.
The front door clicked shut.
Clair crouched beside the playpen, brushing Rose’s hair back from her face.
“Lunch in ten minutes, baby. Then maybe we try on those skirtalls and see how many hearts we can fade before naptime.”
Rose looked up at her Mommy with big, trusting eyes and gave the smallest, happiest nod.
So today I got another year older and have a slow day! Ao anyone who wants to lets do a Fantasy off! Tell me your deepest fantasy and I'll give it my personal rating! And who knows if you nail it with a 6+/5 it may make it in an upcoming chapter of a story or get a one off!
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