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Chapter 1 Rejection hurt the most when it came in multitudes. Daniel Aster prided himself in his resiliency and independence. He didn’t care what any authority told him, he could bounce back from any criticism. If a critique held merit, he’d listen, and if it just broke him down without purpose, he’d ignore it. He knew he had power, and he knew that with the right training, he could control that power. He was a master warlock in the making. The first rejection slip that came on his doorstep, delivered by a curiously intelligent Peregrine Hawk, he ignored. There were over a dozen great Warlock schools across all eight continents. (Maybe Mundanes thought there were seven continents, but they hadn’t figured out indoor plumbing until the 19th century, so what did they know?) and plenty of smaller private institutions. It didn’t matter if one said no. The second slip, he laughed it off. ‘Fundamentally incapable of controlling power’ may have been a note in both papers, but what did that matter? He knew his control was a weak point, it just took one administrator to see that it could be improved, that it wasn’t hopeless. Besides, they saw his strengths, didn’t they? Good results on written exams, high levels of magical attunement–if it wasn’t for piss poor control, he’d have been a cinch. Eight rejection letters made his confidence waver. He now had a stack of forty. So many letters that they made his waste paper bin overflow, so many that animal control had been called to complain about the bird poop spattering cars in front of his home–bird messengers were traditional, but perhaps a bit inconvenient. When he got to be High Warlock, he’d see about getting official communication channels equipped with telephones and pagers. If he got to be High Warlock. You didn’t get elected to top positions without a prestigious degree to your name. For all his confidence, he admitted needed education, practice, and a good teacher. Nobody became a master on their own; even Merlin had learned from the fae. Only…that wasn’t quite true. He didn’t just need a teacher, he needed remedial classes, maybe a tutor–the kind of education he could only get with a lot of money or a top-tier school. He was like a toddler who’d never learned to walk while his bones were growing, and now required physical therapy to catch up; he knew he had the capacity but he couldn’t stand up to prove it. And with forty academies–public, private, long lasting institutions and barely-accredited night schools–all insisting he was unfit to be a warlock at all, Daniel had to admit that maybe they were right. Maybe. Lying on his bed, Daniel weighed his options. Give up, find a private tutor, bribe his way in–or keep digging for another school that he hadn’t already applied to. Maybe he could make an appeal to his upbringing–his dad had been Mundane, not a lick of magic in him. Only his mom had power, but naturally, she was a witch. Women’s magic worked off the same fundamentals as men’s, but the nuances were vastly different; Warlocks worked alone, with lightning responses and raw strength no witch could manage, witches pooled their magic into covens that operated more slowly but with more delicacy, more staying power. It was like the old saying–If you want to go fast, go alone, if you want to go far, go together. Warlocks were fast. Or…they were in theory. Daniel had learned the basics of magic early, but he wasn’t fast, and nothing his mom had taught him had built speed. The catch-22 made him reel–he needed a teacher to get the speed and precision of a true Warlock, but his current abilities were so low that no school would take him. While he pondered this, another hawk smacked into his window, flopping onto the wrought-iron fire escape outside his apartment. He winced, walking over to open it, while the bird gave him an annoyed look. “I keep my space tidy,” he said, rolling his eyes as he untied the letter from around its neck, allowing himself to feel a spark of hope. “Not my fault you can’t tell clean glass from open air.” The hawk gave a croaking little caw, giving him a side-eye that seemed to say, ‘I’m better than you.’ Even the birds were looking down on him today. Once the note was in his hands, the bird squawked, flapped its wings, and took off to the skies once more. “Okay,” Daniel said, turning over the letter in his hands. “Let’s see what we’ve got…Berrier University.” A distance-learning outfit, Berrier had been just about his last choice for application, but it was at least a choice. He didn’t need to attend for the full course–he could enroll for a semester, get enough proof that he could handle his shit, and take those grades to a real school. He just needed his foot in the door. Holding his breath, he slid the envelope open and withdrew the note inside, mumbling the words as he read it aloud. “Dear Mr. Aster, We regret to inform you–” Something was wrong with the note; after reading those first eight words, all the letters turned blurry and illegible. He knew what the note said by heart, anyways. ‘Your control isn’t good enough, you aren’t fast enough, you don’t have the potential to be a warlock–you’ve got good grades on paper, go find work as an enchanter or something, maybe get a job teaching.’ And the message between the lines: ‘You’ll never be a real magician, so take the crumbs you can get. You just don’t have what it takes.’ “Dammit,” Daniel snapped, crumpling the note in his hand and tossing it into his trash bin. It bounced off the rim and rolled away. Annoyed, he snapped his wand–a stubby little thing with an ergonomic grip–off his desk and sent a shower of sparks at the note. It flopped into the air, overcorrected, and soared past the bin again. He tried the spell again, and it this time flew straight up, no closer to being thrown away than if he’d left it to sit. On the third time, he spat out a word and flicked his wand and–instead of levitating the paper–set it on fire. Eyes widening a fraction, Daniel blurted, “Shit,” and ran over, stomping out the flame before it could spread. He stared down at the ashy pile. (Goddammit.) (God fucking dammit.) (Are they right about me?) Grimacing, he went to get a dustpan and clean up the mess. A cleaning spell would have been faster, but the last thing Daniel wanted to do was confirm the worst belief he held about himself. He did have the potential, though. Daniel knew his strengths, and he knew his flaws–he was impulsive, he acted too quickly, he could be too stubborn for his own good. But he had a well of power inside him, one he could feel deep down in his core, the kind of power that warlocks of legend could only dream of. Maybe he was a little cocky, too, but who ever heard of a passive warlock? “Screw them,” he said aloud. “I’m going to get into one of these schools, one way or another.” He wondered about cheating, but that wouldn’t help either. Even if he found a way to pretend to be able to do things he couldn’t, he’d be found out too quickly; he needed something that would get him trained, not just that would get him in the door. His control was that bad–and, being honest, he couldn’t blame it fully on being taught the basics by a witch. Many witches, his mother included, had better control than him even though that was miles away from their field of expertise. And… And… And that gave him an idea. Sitting down, he picked up the phone from his desk, punching in his mom’s number on the hard plastic buttons. It rang twice, and then– “Daniel!” she said, excitedly. “How are you, sweetie? Everything still going okay in Seattle? Have you found a job yet? A girlfriend?” “I told you, I’m just here until I get accepted into college,” he said, scratching his chin. “Why look for a job when I’m leaving in a few weeks?” He heard her click her tongue, a noise she made when she was thinking. “Right, right–it’s just, you never call, how am I supposed to know what’s going on in your life?” “I’m calling right now!” He rolled his eyes. “Look, I was just curious–do you have your old records from when you were studying at Alphebeta?” “I’m sure I’ve got them somewhere,” she said. “Why?” He didn’t detect a hint of suspicion in her tone. Perfect. “For filling out one of these applications–I think it might help. Could you send that over?” There was a way to get the education he needed. If witches had better focus than him, he’d just go learn from witches. His poor control wouldn’t stop him from getting enrolled, and he could fake the rest. Daniel just had one obstacle to overcome: Alphabeta–and, for that matter, any other witches’ school in the world–was an all girls school. Of course it was; ‘all witches’ and ‘all girls’ were practically synonyms. Still, he had a way around that, too. He’d just need his mom’s records, a little sleight of hand, and a dress.

Hi Everyone. Long time enjoyer of the forum, first time poster. I've enjoyed reading stories about ABDL for many years now, both on her and across the rest of the vast internet. I'm not new to writing, however this is my first ABDL story that I've written, or at least the first one that I felt good enough about to post. I posted this story first on the abdlstories subreddit, and decided "Hey, why not post it here too." I've completed only 2 chapters so far, but I'll continue working on this story. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and I welcome any sort of criticism. Thank you. Chapter 1: A Day of Relaxation Gone Awry June 2nd, 2023. 2:13pm “Wow, what a shitshow.” I say with a sigh as I unlock the door, stepping into the house. Another tedious day at work. I swear, people always think data entry is an easy position; well I’d like to see them try dealing with the shit I have to deal with. If it’s not my supervisor breathing down my neck, it’s one of my colleagues needing some help with a monotonous task. “Well, at least I got off early today.” I couldn’t be happier with the early release. Mostly because I was about 2 seconds from murdering that idiot Beth. Seriously, how hard is it to save a spreadsheet before you close it out! Well, whatever. Not my problem anymore; at least for the weekend. I hang my coat up on the rack, kick my heels off, and sluggishly make my way over to the couch. I sit down, feeling the weight of the day release from my shoulders. Grabbing the remote from the coffee table, I turn on the T.V and begin to scroll through Netflix, hoping to find something to distract me from my hellish day. From across the house, I can hear the shower running, and a smile forms on my face. No matter what bullshit I have to deal with, I know it will be alright. I know I can come home to my favorite person: Emma. I hear the sound of water cease, and a few moments later, I see what I can only describe as the definition of beauty exit the bathroom. Her long, dark brown hair hanging over her shoulder, still damp from the shower. Her skin covered by a towel around her waist, leaving me just able to see glimpses of her fair, glistening skin. I watch as she begins to head to the bedroom, before doing a double take towards me. I watch as her face brightens up. “Roxie! I didn’t know you’d be home so early! How was work?” She walks over to me and pecks me on the cheek, careful not to let her towel fall. “If I have to fix one of Beth’s screw ups one more time, I’m gonna demand a raise for the extra work.” I say, half sarcastically, but with a hint of seriousness within. “She somehow manages to make extra work for me to do on a daily basis.” I shouldn’t be too hard on Beth. I mean sure, she fucks up a lot, but it’s not exactly her fault. Beth joined the company a couple years back as a receptionist, and she really flourished. I remember when I went in for my interview, and she made me feel welcome, calming my nerves. I’d even go as far to say that she was my first friend over there .Unfortunately, the company has been short staffed these past few months, and moved her over to the data entry department. It’s not like she’s the worst member on the team either. Data entry just isn’t her specialty. Most of the time, I don’t even mind helping her out, but with the rest of today…well I guess it just got on my nerves. “I feel bad for her.” Emma remarks. “It can’t be easy being moved around the company like that.” “Yeah, I know. I’ll text her later and tell her not to worry.” I just hope I don’t forget. My brain feels overworked today. I look up at the clock and take note of the time: 2:30. “Hey babe, don’t you have that meeting in an hour?” A look of surprise shoots across Emma’s face, and I can see a bit of panic in her eyes. “Dammit, I thought I had more time! Oh shit, where did I put my outfit…wait yeah I laid it out on the bed! Sorry babe, we’ll talk more later!” “Do you want some help getting ready?” I ask, wanting to remove some of her worry. “No, I should be fine. You just relax for now. You’ve had a long enough day already.” With a second peck on the cheek, I watch as she hurries her way to the bedroom door, hips swaying as I watch her disappear behind the doorframe. I feel sorry for her at times. Being an account manager for her company's high level executives comes with many perks: free travel, time off and a lucrative salary being some awesome bonuses. However, it also means having to make herself available for dinner meetings, out of state conferences, and other hindrances. I decide to resume my task, and after a couple more minutes of scrolling, I settle on a classic; She-Ra. God, I can’t count how many times I’ve rewatched this series, but here I am, going down the rabbit hole once again. I watch as the red N flashes across the screen, and the title intro plays. After a few minutes, I begin to feel a bit parched, and decide a cool beverage is in order. I get up and make my way to the kitchen. As I walk, I hear Emma getting louder in the bedroom. If I had to guess, she misplaced something. “Where the hell did I put those earrings?!? Come on, I just had…oh, they’re on the desk.” I chuckle to myself. This is pretty normal for Emma, rushing to get ready. I know to give her some space when she gets heated like that, so I continue to the kitchen. Reaching into the fridge, I grab 2 cans of Diet Coke. “It’s not like I wanna get back up later.” I reason to myself. Satisfied with my choice of soft drink, I make my way back to the living room. “Damn, I missed Adora finding the sword!” Having seen the show more times than I care to admit, I elect to not rewind, and just continue watching. I watch through to the credits of the first episode before I hear the bedroom door open. Emma walks out, her outfit finally complete. “How do I look? Ready for business?” She asks, fishing for a compliment. “You look gorgeous as always.” I say, sincere in my words. To me, she is, and will always be the most beautiful woman in the world. Today though, her look is that of an absolute professional. Her white, button down shirt buttoned up, with her black blazer overtop, just screams “I know what I’m talking about” while her ironed dress pants complete the ensemble. She looks at me and her lips, crimson lipstick freshly applied, turn into a smile, and a slight blush appears on her face, clearly enjoying what she heard. “Hearing that makes the effort worth it.” I watch as she walks over to the door, grabbing her purse off the coffee table along the way. As she pulls out her keyring from the bag, she turns to me. “I’m not sure how long this meeting will run, but I’m willing to guess it will be a few hours. You know Andrew; he never shuts up.” She didn’t have to remind me. Andrew is her partner at the company, and he truly doesn’t know how to stop talking. When I first met him at the company Christmas party, he went on and on for over an hour about his trip to the Florida Keys. I was only able to escape due to Emma’s timely rescue. He’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, but man can he chat your ear off. “Yeah, don’t let him go off the rails again, or you may not come back till tomorrow.” Emma chuckles at my remark, before opening the door. “Okay, well I’ll see you afterwards, no matter the time.” She jokes back. “Love you Roxie, and don’t forget to message Beth!” “Oh shit, thanks!” I can’t believe I already forgot. “I love you too Amore.” I didn’t learn many words from my heritage, but I learned that one. I should really learn more Italian though. With one last smile, I watch as Emma walks through the door, locking it behind her. A couple moments later, I hear the sound of her BMW starting up, before quieting down as she pulls out of the driveway. I sigh, missing her already. With nothing else to do, I return my attention to the T.V, noticing half of the episode having played whilst my attention was pulled. “Aw man, I’m missing all the good parts.” I say before pausing the episode. I sit back, contemplating what else I can do to pass the time. Just then, a realization strikes me; I have the place to myself for a few hours, and no plans for the rest of the day. I smirk as I figure out my new plan. I have a chance to engage in my own little secret. I get up from the couch and, with a brisk pace, I make my way over to the spare bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I lock it out of habit. I know I have the place to myself, but I still can’t get over my fear of being discovered in my secret activity. I walk over to the guest bed, and bend down, getting on my knees. I reach my hand underneath the frame, feeling around until I find what I'm looking for. With a bit of effort, I pull a wooden chest out from underneath the bed. A simple design, one almost wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, at least until they look at the heavy duty lock on the front. I walk over to the walk-in closet, and head to the back, finding the second part of my lengthy process of hiding my secret. I open up a shoe box filled with a pair of old sneakers. I reach my way into the right shoe, and pull out a small key. I then return the shoe box to its place, and return to the chest. Placing the key into the slot, I twist it with shaking hands, my excitement building with each passing moment. With a click, the lock unlatches, and I place it off to the side, making sure to leave the key inside so I don’t forget where I put it. I slowly open the lid, and reveal my secret treasures. Inside the hidden chest, there are many different items that share the same theme. In secret, I am an ABDL. I’ve had a love and fascination for the kink for as long as I can remember. Once I moved in with Emma, I locked my stuff away in secret, afraid that she would think I’m some kind of degenerate…and I wouldn’t be able to stand that. Pushing that dark thought aside, I look over my collection of goodies, and after a moment, I pull out my first item. I’ve always been a bit of a goth, so when I found out about Rearz Rebel design, it was a perfect match for my aesthetic. I pull out the thick padding, and trace my fingers over the small skulls placed throughout. I quickly pull myself out of my mini trance, and grab the rest of my changing supplies before throwing them on the mattress. I lay myself down next to the supplies, before unbuttoning my black jeans, slipping them off of my legs and letting them fall to the floor. I take a look at my panties, looking over the similar design, black with little white skulls throughout. “No more panties today!” I say, making myself chuckle at my own bravado, before sliding those off as well. I then unfold my diaper, and place it underneath my rear, making sure to get the positioning just right. Once situated, I take a quick look at my body. While the hormones had done a bit of shrinkage, I still had a rather decent, if not average, sized penis. I know some Trans women have mixed or negative feelings about their traditionally male organ, I never quite felt that type of dysphoria. If anything, the rest of my figure was the issue, not the privates I have. Continuing with my mission, I begin to sprinkle a decent helping of baby powder over my nether regions. After all, what baby doesn’t smell like baby powder. Once satisfied, I raise the front of the diaper up, and take my time taping up the sides, wanting to make the fit as perfect as it could be. Finally secure, I let out a sigh of relief, before placing my hand on the front of the plastic, enjoying the thickness between my legs. Feeling a pressure on the front began to make my arousal grow, and I take a moment to enjoy it. “I should probably keep getting ready, otherwise I’ll be here all day.” I hop off the bed and return to the chest, pulling out a black onesie with a cartoon skull on the front. You could definitely say I have a theme for this outfit. I temporarily place it on the bed so I can strip out of the rest of my clothing. I unbutton my black button up shirt, letting it fall away, exposing my bra. I debate for a moment if I should keep it on, before reaching behind my back and unclipping the garment. It just wouldn't feel right to wear right now, with the rest of my infantile outfit. I pick up the onesie, and unbutton the snaps on the crotch before slipping it over my head. I feel the fabric expand and constrict to my form as it gets into place. I reach between my legs, and re snap the crotch of the garb. I reach into the chest once again, and pull out a black pacifier, before quickly popping it into my mouth. With a suckle, I walk over to the mirror to inspect the look. “Just like a baby.” I think to myself, and smile behind the dummy. I admire how the onesie confirms to my frame, accentuating the small curves I had developed over the years. I turn around, and look at the thickness surrounding my butt. Anyone looking would be able to tell what was underneath, especially with the design peaking out slightly around the legs. I finally look how I desire. Taking one last glimpse back into the mirror, I turn back to the chest for the final time, pulling out a black bag, filled with various other goodies. Taking it with me, I unlock the door, and head back to the living room. I situate myself back into my spot, feeling the cushion underneath me. I smile to myself, and I truly begin to feel the stress of the day melt away. After a moment of silent relaxation, I reach into the bag and pull out an oversized baby bottle. Deciding to stick to my already opened beverage, I carefully pour the can of soda into the bottle, before opening the second can and doing the same. I screw the lid back on, and begin to place the nipple towards my mouth, forgetting about the paci sitting between my lips. Giggling at my forgetfulness, I quickly attach the pacifier to the clip on my onesie, leaving it hanging within reach. I then return the bottle to my mouth, taking a sip of the refreshing, caffeinated drink. I place the bottle down next to me, before reaching over to the remote, resuming the episode I was watching. I sat there for a couple hours, watching the adventures unfold on the screen. Having finished my bottle, I had gotten up and filled it back up with water, polishing that off as well. As the 6th..or is it the 7th episode began to play, I returned the paci to my awaiting lips, enjoying my own personal nirvana. Midway through the episode, I begin to feel the results of all my consumption. I take a moment to decide if now is the moment I want to release, before deciding to return my attention to the show. Another series of credits rolls across the screen, and I begin bouncing in my seat, the desperation reaching its peak. I realize that I soon won’t have a choice if I want to go or not. Pulling my legs onto the couch, I get into position, sitting on my knees. With a final sigh, I begin to feel my bladder release, slowly at first, but quickly turning into a flood. I feel the warmth spreading around the front of the padding, which eagerly ate up the onslaught of pee. Many seconds pass by, and after what seemed to be a minute, I feel the flow turn into a trickle, before finally stopping. I begin to unsnap the crotch of the onesie, wanting to see myself how soaked I had become, and I was not disappointed. The entire front of the Rebelz had turned a pale yellow color, and reaching my hand down, I could feel the satisfying squish that only a soaked diaper could give. As I was inspecting my results, I felt my arousal from earlier return in earnest, the front of my padding beginning to tent, my erection making itself known. This time, I decide to do something about it. Reaching back into the bag, I pull out my favorite toy, a wireless wand vibrator. Pressing the button, I feel the device spring to life. I sit back down, feeling the warmth had made its way somewhat to the back of the diaper, before bringing the wand to the crotch of the padding. “Oh, how I missed this.” I say as I revel in the sensations. I turn up the speed a level before beginning to move it around, my privates becoming fully erect in the process. I close my eyes, and begin fantasizing about my usual dream. Instead of my hands guiding the wand, it’s Emma, using the device to provide this pleasure to me. I imagine all the things I wish I could experience with her. My mind plays the scene, me squirming around, feeling the wand to its job, while Emma calls me her good girl, her soggy baby, her precious little. All too soon, I feel myself beginning to reach my climax. With the last few strokes of the vibrator, I feel myself begin to orgasm, spurting my load inside my diaper, which happily accepted the additional liquid. I turn the device off, and breath heavily, basking in the afterglow of my alone time. Just as I finish recovering, I hear a sound to my left, and I open my eyes. My heart drops. Having been distracted by my masturbating, I must have failed to notice the sound of the lock on the door, or the opening of it for that matter. There stood Emma, confirming my worst fears. I begin to panic, before noticing something. Where in my worst nightmares, I had always imagined her with a look of disgust, in reality, here she stood, with a massive grin on her face. “Well, out of all the things I expected to walk in to, this wasn’t at the top of the list.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (CW: Shame, Homophobia, Transphobia, Familial Abuse, Mentions of Violence) Chapter 2: Caught in The Act June 2nd, 2023. 5:48pm Dread. All I feel is an overwhelming feeling of dread. For years, my biggest fear has been this exact moment. (I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let this happen! I should have never unlocked that chest!) My internal monologue goes into overdrive, reminding me how I should’ve been more careful, should’ve stayed locked in the guest bedroom, should’ve never engaged in my perverse kink to begin with. I feel my anxiety building with each passing moment. “So…wanna tell me what’s going on here?” Emma asks. I’m unable to read her expression, whether that’s due to my rush of emotions, or her lack of displaying one, I’m unable to tell. (Just talk to her! What’s the worst that she could say? That you’re disgusting, a pervert, a mental case? Yeah…that’s definitely what she’s going to say!) I open my mouth, trying to get any semblance of a word out, just…something. But nothing comes out. Instead, I feel my body enter autopilot, my legs moving faster than I can think, rushing me over to the guest bedroom. I quickly lock the door before collapsing on the floor, holding my head in my lap as the tears begin to form. What if she doesn’t think I’m sexy anymore? What if she wants to leave me? Why couldn’t I just be normal?!? I continue to cry, wishing more than anything that this didn’t happen. But it did. The cat’s out of the bag now, and no amount of wishing would make it otherwise. So I cry; that’s all I can do, is just cry. Suddenly, I hear a gentle knocking on the door, and I hear a voice filled with kindness and concern on the other side. “Roxie, are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I tried calling you to let you know I was coming back, but you didn’t answer.” I mentally kick myself, looking over to my jeans and seeing my phone sticking out of the pocket. Me and my forgetfulness. “Listen, I’m not mad, okay? I just want to talk to you. I don’t want to rush you, but would you please open the door?” I sit there for a moment longer, before slowly making my way to the door. I pause for a moment before unlocking the door, and cracking it open, just able to poke my head through. “I’m so, so sorry Emma.” I say with fresh tears dripping down my cheeks. “I never wanted you to see me…like this. I promise you I’ll never do this again, just please don't…” I’m interrupted by Emma pushing the door open. (This is it, she’s going to yell at me.) I think, before quickly being enveloped in a hug. “That’s enough, Roxie.” She says, only warmth in her voice. “I’m here, and I’ve got you. It’s all right.” I feel nothing but kindness and love from her words, not even a hint of anger in her voice. Hearing the conviction in her voice, a new wave of tears emerge from my eyes. Not tears of fear, or of sorrow, but of pure relief. I stand there, wrapped in her embrace, and continue to let out the emotions I’ve been carrying for too long. It feels like years have passed standing there, although in reality, only a few minutes have likely passed. I feel Emma begin to pull away, and I look down at my feet, embarrassed by my emotional outburst. A moment of silence lingers for a moment longer, before I hear her speak. “Are you okay now?” I see the concern in her eyes, still worried about me. I sniffle a bit, and attempt to regain my composure. “I…I’m okay. Thank you…for the hug…” I trail off “Are you sure? It’s okay to not be okay, you know.” She looks at me, awaiting my response. “Yeah, no I’m okay now. It was just…a bit of a shock is all. Last time I forget my phone.” I attempt to make the situation a bit less awkward with my joke, and I think it worked, maybe just a bit. “Listen, I know you’ve probably got a million different things running through your mind right now, but let me reiterate; I’m not mad, not in the slightest. Why don’t you sit down, I’ll make us some coffee, and we can talk about all of…well, this.” I give a slight nod, and head over to the kitchen table. I watch as Emma walks towards the kitchen, turning back long enough to give me a reassuring smile. (I should take a moment to compose myself. I mean, we’ve gotta talk about it at this point.) I close my eyes, and take a deep breath, holding it for just a moment before releasing, and repeating the process. As I feel myself regaining my composure, I open my eyes to see Emma walking out of the kitchen. She places a mug full of coffee in front of me, plenty of cream and sugar inside, before taking the seat next to me. I take a whiff of the warm beverage, and bring the cup to my lips, taking a savory sip. “Before I say anything…” Emma starts “I want you to talk. What does all of this…” she points to my outfit “mean to you. No judgment, just start where you’re comfortable, and speak truthfully.” Where do I even begin, I wonder. How do I explain all of this? Do I lie? Make up some kind of excuse for why I’m wearing diapers and baby clothes? I look into Emma’s eyes, and I begin to feel at ease. I decide to tell her. I decide to tell her everything. “Well…I’m into all of this. I’m an “ABDL”, which stands for Adult Baby Diaper Lover.” I see her expression remains unchanged, so I continue. “I’ve always had a fascination for Diapers, for as long as I can remember. I always dreamed of going back to the moments of my childhood, even when I was…well still a child. I would dream of being able to go back to Diapers, and just enjoy the carefree experience of an infant. As I grew older, my feeling began to change and evolve, becoming more…complex. Not only was I discovering my sexuality, and how it plays into my obsession, but I also began to figure out more about myself. I began questioning my life, trying to figure out why I felt like I was a stranger in my own skin. I would look online, trying to see if someone, anyone, felt the way I felt. Not only did I find out about ABDL, but I discovered that some people can be “Transgender.” After reading more about the experiences of Trans Men and Women, I finally figured out what was “wrong” with me.” I feel Emma place her hand on top of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. From the moment I met her, she knew about my gender identity. Having always known that she was accepting, I still felt a little anxious, telling my whole story. I take a breath, and continue on with my story. “Maybe a part of me wanted to relive the moments of my childhood, because I never truly had “my” childhood. I was just pretending to be what everyone thought I was. Now that I knew who I was…I knew I had to hide it.” “Why?” Emma asks. “I mean, I get hiding your interest in Ageplay, but why did you feel like you had to hide your identity?” I wince, reliving the harsh memories like they were yesterday. “I hid it because I lived in the south, and it was the 2010’s. The folks down there aren’t exactly welcoming to those who are…different.” I pause, steeling myself for what comes next. “That included my parents. I knew full well how they felt about “Queers”, and I knew for a fact that they wouldn’t change their minds, not even for their own blood.” Emma looks shocked. “I…I knew you didn’t talk to your parents, but you never talked about why. I can’t…I can’t even imagine the feeling.” “Yeah, it was Hell. But I survived. I buried my true feeling deep down, and continued living a life that wasn’t mine. I got through Middle School, and even High School, hating the changes happening to my body, but unable to do anything about it. I just…tried not to think about it. I buried myself into my school work, doing everything and anything I could do to keep myself busy. Eventually, that paid off, and I graduated with honors. I even got scholarship offers from Universities. And then I finally realized…I could be free. I was about to be out in the world, on my own, free to do as I may. And suddenly, I began to feel alive again. I began making plans. I got myself into school, registered for classes, and got into the dorms.” “So you could finally live as yourself? Sounds like you found a way to be happy.” I looked at Emma. I always appreciate her optimism, but not everything works out as you hope in life. “Yeah it does…but then I made a mistake.” She looks at me with a mix of curiosity, confusion and worry. “It was supposed to be a happy day. I was moving out. I had my car all packed and everything. All I had to do was hop in, turn the key, and never look back. I didn’t do that. For some reason, I thought I could finally tell my parents about who I was, who I wanted to be. I told them I was Trans…and regretted it.” I see a tear form in Emma’s eye, too shocked to even speak. “My father told me I was a freak, a degenerate looser, and that I would be doomed to Hell for my sins. He…did more than yell.” I reached to the neck of my clothes and pulled it to the side, showing off my faint scar from all those years ago. I see a look of shock and anger fill her face for a moment, before returning her expression back to composed. She reaches over, feeling the surface of my skin. “That’s how you got that scar? I always assumed it was from something embarrassing, not something so…so wrong! How could he do that to you?” I’ve asked myself the same question over the years. “He told me to leave, and never come back, or else he’d bury me in the ground. Mom..my mother just stood there, not even looking at me. I don’t know if she was just scared of my father, or if she agreed with him. All I know, is that she wouldn’t even look at me. So…I left, and never went back. That…that was the last time I heard from either of them.” “Roxie, I’m so sorry. Nobody should have to go through something like that.” She reaches around the table and gives me a hug. No tears flowed from me this time though, that memory had already extracted all the tears it ever would. “It’s okay Emma. The story gets a bit better from here. I went to college out of state, finally leaving the bigotry of the south behind, and I moved into the dorms, free for the first time. I even had a dorm room to myself. I swear, when I found that out, I felt that my luck was finally turning around. I finally had the time, space and availability to start being me. I got a part time job, and since I didn’t have any other expenses besides my car insurance, I had a good amount of disposable income. I ordered clothes for myself, started practicing make-up, dyed my hair, and even started out on hormones. I was, for the first time in my life, living for myself. Once I got settled into my new life, my mind turned back to my…other interests. I ordered diapers, onesies, pacifiers, you name it, having it all delivered to a P.O box. People saw me bringing packages to my dorm room all the time; they probably thought it was more clothes or something. It wouldn’t have mattered if the did though, nothing was going to stop me, not anymore. I began letting myself explore my ageplay kink, and let me tell you, the first time I put on a diaper, I felt complete. Everything that I had lived through, all the pain, all the suffering, it was all worth it. So..I kept doing it. And well…that’s where we are today.” I wait for her response with baited breath. “Thank you, Roxie, for sharing your story. I can’t imagine your struggle. I mean, having to deal with all of that…your family, and…just wow. I’m glad you were able to find yourself, and embrace the little within you. I want you to know, I love you, and nothing you’ve told me has changed that.” Emma smiles at me, and I return it back to her. It was my turn now to lean over the table, embracing the woman that I love. Then, something hits me. I never mentioned the term “Little” in my explanation. In fact, Emma used the word “Ageplay” before I even brought it up. I then remember the smile she gave me when I was caught; like she knew what I was doing. Not one point during this ordeal did she ever question the fact that I was wearing a onesie, or a wet diaper for that matter. I break the embrace, and look into her eyes. I ask the question now in my mind. “Emma, you know more about Ageplay than you’re letting on, don’t you?” She looks at me for a moment, then returns that same smile I saw earlier in the day. “Guilty.” She says. “Since you were so open with me, I’m going to be open with you.” It was now my turn to listen. “I’m into Ageplay too. Specifically, I’m a Mommy. I’ve been a Mommy for a long time, years before I met you. I actually started out exploring BDSM, and while I enjoyed all the bondage, and the domination, it was always missing something for me. I was craving that touch of innocence that comes with Ageplay. I won’t hit you with my whole backstory right now. Don’t misunderstand, I’m not hiding anything from you, but you’ve had a long day, and I don’t want to dump too much on you at once. For now, know that I’m just as weird and kinky as you.” I sat there, mouth open. Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine Emma, my girlfriend Emma, would even know about the world of Ageplay, let alone having been involved with it for years. My mind was swimming with questions, but she’s right, it has already been a long enough day. However, there was still one more question on my mind, that I just had to have answered. “That still doesn’t explain something. Why weren’t you surprised with me being into Ageplay? You didn’t seem shocked at all. It’s almost like…” “Like I knew?” She finished. “It’s because I did.” I see a guilty look appear on her face. “It wasn’t intentional, and I wasn’t trying to snoop, but I found your stash months ago. I was looking for my old sneakers, and was surprised to find a key inside the sole. You could imagine my confusion. Just as I was walking out of the closet, I…well, I tripped over my own feet.” I laugh, knowing full well that Emma gets distracted when cleaning and looking for things. “Yeah, laugh it up diaper girl.” We both get a laugh out of that one. “Anyways, I spent the next 10 minutes trying to figure out where I dropped the key. I looked everywhere. I checked behind the dresser, under the chair, and then looked under the bed, where I found your chest. At least I knew what the key went to, now I just had to find the key. Ironically, it was in my shoe. Don’t ask how it got there, I to this day don’t know how it happened. I unlocked the chest, and was surprised by the contents, mostly because I knew what everything inside was. I knew I didn’t have any supplies left in the house, and realized based on the sizes that they belonged to you. Plus, out of all the women I’ve ever met, nobody wears more skulls than you. I then panicked a bit, realizing I had intruded on your secret stash. I quickly locked it back up and put the key back in its hiding spot.” “Why…why didn’t you say anything? You had to know at the time it was all kink-related stuff?” I was now confused, wondering why she didn’t act on her knowledge, confront me, hell do anything with what she just learned. “I didn’t say anything because it was your secret to share. It didn’t matter that I was a Mommy, or if you were a Little, it was your secret, and you shouldn’t have had to reveal it before you were ready. If I was sorry for anything, it would be for not knocking before I came in…but this is my place too, so you could imagine how silly that would be.” I got up from my seat, and walked in close to Emma. She looked at me, unsure of what I was going to do. I move in closer, and bring my lips to hers, kissing her deeply. It lasts for a moment longer, before I begrudgingly pull back, needing to get the words out of my throat. “Thank you Emma, for the space, for listening…for everything.” “Don’t mention it. Now that the emotional stuff is over with, I’m suddenly hungry. How about I order us a Pizza, and we watch a movie, and just relax for the rest of the night?” “Sounds good to me!” I state enthusiastically, glad to put the negativity from before behind me. “Alright, how about you head to the couch and pick out something for us to watch? I’ll call the restaurant now.” As Emma pulls out her phone, I begin walking over to the couch, before realizing I’m still in my little attire. (I should probably get changed. Don’t want to push my luck tonight.) I turn around and start walking over to the bedroom, when Emma places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. “Where are you going?” she asks. “Oh, I was just going to change my clothes…for the movie.” I state, not quite ready to talk about my outfit aloud. I don’t know if I was just embarrassed, or if I was afraid she wouldn’t want me dressed like this right now. Emma then gave me a smile. “Don’t be silly, that’s a perfect outfit. Now get on the couch, crinkle butt.” She says, and gives me a quick swat on the butt, a crinkle sound emanating from my rear. A huge smile forms on my face, and I head back to the couch. I have a thought to myself. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Let’s go champ!” Robert called out, impatiently waiting by the front door as he waited for Chris. “But Daddy!” Chris called out, waddling into the entryway, still half dressed. “I just made pushies!” Robert let out a sigh, putting his jacket down before quickly heading over to Chris, tucking his shirt into his waistband before starting to adjust his collar. “I know, bud. But we’re going to be late!” Robert said, guiding Chris towards the front door in an effort to get his shoes on. “But- but I can’t go out like this!” Chris protested, sitting down in his own filth as Robert lifted each foot, sliding on his shoes. “We can get you changed once we’re there. But we need to leave, like 10 minutes ago,” Robert said, sliding on the last shoe as he grabbed a hold of Chris’s hand again, pulling him up and dragging him out the door as he protested. “Daddy!” Chris whined, lowering his tone a little bit now that they were outside, quickly heading towards the truck. “Champ. I told you to hold it in, now you’re just going to have to wait until we're at the party,” Robert explained. Chris moped about as he climbed into the back of the truck as Robert jumped in the front, not even following behind Chris to make sure he was buckled in like normal. Robert turned around at least, visually inspecting that Chris buckled in, stopping to give Chris a warm smile. “You look cute, sport,” He said before turning back to put the truck in reverse, backing out of the driveway. “Mommy’s going to eat you up when she sees you,” Chris blushed. Tonight was Liliane’s company party, which just so happened to be a massive formal party that they had gone to the past couple of years since dating, but it would be a first for all three of them to attend. Chris and Liliane had been dating for several years now, neither of which would have been labeled as kinky when they first met, but slowly overtime, they quickly started to find their niche only to have it all fully set in when they met Robert. An unsuspecting third party they had met at a friends party who had tried to hook up with Liliane, only to be taken by surprise when she had said that she was taken, but that they would be up to having a third. At first, it started out as just sex. Copious amounts of it too. Robert, having been fully into the ABDL scene himself had just sought after Liliane as a quick hook up, but quickly decided to stick around to see where things went when he realized just how submissive Chris was. Slowly, he picked up on Chris’s little tendencies here and there, finally realizing he had struck gold when the three of them had started talking about ways to change it up in the bedroom when Liliane brought up a Mommy Daddy role play. At first he played dumb, not wanting to scare off the obvious newcomers, but quickly started leading with a heavy hand. Introducing diapers, and bottles, until Chris and Liliane were fully on board with the whole scenario. But the bedroom never seemed to have enough time. So, just over a month ago they had decided to go full time. Robert moved in, happily sleeping with Liliane each night while Chris got to create the childhood bedroom of his dreams. “Alright, buckaroo,” Robert said, parking the truck before grabbing what Chris knew to be the diaper bag and jumping out of the truck. He opened Chris’s door, climbing up to help unbuckle Chris before helping him out. “Alright, you’re going to have to give me a couple of minutes to greet a few of Mommy’s coworkers, then we’ll find you a bathroom to get changed in, deal?” “Thanks, Daddy,” Chris said, grabbing a hold of his hand as he walked with Robert inside. “Ahhh!” Liliane screamed, suddenly emerging from the crowd of finely dressed people, giving Robert a quick hug, before leaning in to tightly squeeze Chris. “I’m so glad you could both make it!” She said, squeezing Chris tightly before catching a whiff of his accident. “Did somebody have an accident?” She whispered in Chris’s ear, instantly turning his face a bright shade of red. “Sorry, I tried to tell him to hold it. Do you know where the bathroom is?” Robert asked, patting the bag he brought with him. “I’m sure there's one around here somewhere, if you even need it. With the amount of perfume and cologne in this place, I bet you could go the whole night without anyone smelling him,” Liliane laughed, giving Robert a quick peck on the lips. “But I think it’s just this way, follow me,” She said, grabbing Robert’s hand before starting to pull him off into the crowd. Robert quickly reached out, grabbing a hold of Chris’s hand as the three quickly weaved their way through the crowd. “Oh my god, Liliane, you look great!” A voice suddenly called out, stopping the family train in its tracks just as they were nearing the hallway towards the restrooms. “Oh, Becky! You look great too!” Liliane said, stopping to chat with an obvious work friend. “You remember my boyfriend, Chris?” She said, gesturing towards Chris who just barely recognized her from a previous year. “Oh, of course!” She said, ignoring Chris’s extended hand and leaning in for a quick hug. Chris could see Robert give Liliane a concerned look, but Liliane didn’t seem worried at all. “And who’s this handsome fellow?” Becky asked, now turning her attention towards Robert. “This is Robert, my other boyfriend,” Liliane replied. Becky let out a muffled gasp of excitement. “Oh my god, I totally forgot you were doing the hold polygamous thing,” She said, giving Robert a playful poke with one of her fingers. “Doesn’t that ever make you worried that there's another man in the relationship?” She said, turning her attention back towards Chris who couldn’t help but hide his brightly colored face. Becky let out a smirk as she turned to look back at Liliane. “Well, I guess I might be holding you all up from something, so I’ll see you around later tonight!” She said, giving Liliane a final hug before disappearing back into the crowd from which she appeared. “Right, I think we can find our way from here if you want to go talk to some coworkers,” Robert suggested, grabbing Chris’s hand. “Sure!” Liliane said. “Let's meet up at the bar in 5 to 10 minutes?” Chris gave her a thumbs up, eliciting a smile from both of them as Robert dragged him off through the last of the crowd, finally arriving in one of the family sized restrooms. “Alright, champ. Let’s get you changed and ready for a night of partying,” He said, quickly opening the diaper bag and laying out a changing mat for Chris to lay out on before starting to unbutton Chris’s pants and pull the dress shirt out. “We’ve got to make sure to pull all of this out to make sure we don’t make a mess of any of your fancy clothes,” Robert said, pulling down his underwear to reveal his soiled diaper. “Alright, lay down for Daddy,” He said. Chris happily obliged, slowly lowering himself onto the changing pad before laying down, making sure to keep his shirt scrunched up on his chest to avoid his diaper. “That a boy!” Robert said, pulling out a little trash bag, some wipes and a diaper from his bag and laying them on the mat next to Chris. “Are you excited for tonight?” Robert asked, making small talk as he untapped the diaper, exposing its soiled contents to the room. Chris nodded. “It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten to drink,” He said with a smirk, knowing that Robert knew that it wasn’t the case, having snuck him a beer or two a few nights over the last couple of weeks. It was really Liliane who was opposed to him drinking, but only when he was in a regressed state. Nights like tonight, Chris was a ‘big boy’ as she put it, which really just meant that he was living a normal adult life, all while still being confined to diapers. Something he wasn’t opposed to though. Robert laughed at the thought, remembering quite well the beers he had snuck around Liliane's back. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree with Liliane about it, but more that he thought Chris was gigglier with a few drinks, which Robert loved. “Is Kyle still up for tomorrow night?” Robert asked as he finished up with the change, slightly lifting Chris to replace the diaper before tightly securing it. Chris nodded, looking away as he obviously tried to avoid the conversation. “He hasn’t responded,” Chris let out after a moment, sounding a little disheartened. “I’m sure he’ll be there. He said yes last week after all,” Robert responded, trying to cheer him up as he lifted him off the floor. Chris hoped that Robert was right, but couldn’t help shake the thought that he might be wrong. “Right, let's get you all buttoned up and drunk,” Robert said cheerfully, changing the subject as he pulled Chris’s pants back up, tucking in his shirt and adjusting his collar. “All set?” He asked, packing up the diaper back before throwing it over his shoulder, extending his hand for Chris to grab. Chris nodded with a smile, ready for the fun night that awaited them in the chaos that was this party. Did you enjoy the story? Want to help support me in creating more? Check out my Patreon!

Introduction Nestled in a forested and remote part of Pennsylvania, the close-knit community known as Little Haven is more than just a town—it's a unique space where littles and their partners, who often take on the role of caretakers, come together and live. This extraordinary community is exclusively populated by individuals who actively engage in the ABDL (Adult Baby Diaper Lover) lifestyle or simply love the sight of happy faces freely being themselves and enjoying what they love. Despite its secluded location, Little Haven has tons of amenities that make it so residents don't have any reason to leave town once they arrive. Some of these amenities include trails and parks, as well as its own adult daycare and schooling system tailored specifically for adult littles or adults looking to further their education. Adding to its charm, Little Haven features a grocery store, inviting spots for littles to hang out, and a couple of places to grab a bite or drink. What truly sets this town apart though is its adoption center, a unique institution facilitating the integration of new residents into the fabric of this secluded society. This exceptional community was created by a wealthy founder—a media mogul turned semi-retired and cheerful mayor. Generously, the mayor directly covers a significant portion of the town's expenses. This financial support is complemented by a constant influx of development and investment from new residents eager to lead a unique kind of life. Many of these residents contribute to the town's prosperity by working remotely or at local offices and factories, producing a variety of ABDL and Little supplies. They supply the community and the rest of the world with products such as adult diapers, pacifiers, little clothing in many sizes, adult baby furniture, and educational resources for the community. It is because of all this that the town is able to survive and thrive in the 21st century, allowing adults all over the world to come and participate in what makes them truly happy. This is little haven.

Alex woke with a start. Her dreams had been one bad memory after another except for the last one, which had the courtesy of being a regular nightmare, that had shocked her awake. The only consolation to a night of fitful sleep and nightmares was that, upon waking up, Alex could barely remember them. There had been the even worse than she'd expected coming out to her parents but it was an old wound and she was over it. Mostly. She had more important things to worry about. She groaned, rolling over to check her phone. The date was bright, too bright because she'd been watching a movie and forgot to turn the brightness down before passing out late last night, and clear. Rent was due tomorrow and she had enough, she always did, but she'd been planning on buying extra food with what she thought was extra money. But it being the end of the month explained that. Time ran together when you stopped paying attention to the date, one example of how time was fake. "Kill me." She muttered, fixing her blanket back over her shoulder. It was Sunday and her day off so there was no reason for her to get out of bed before ten. But she did have to pee. "Wait." She put her hand under her shorts. "Sweet. Wet but not that wet. And it's cold anyway." Alex had fallen asleep in what had been a recently wet diaper so it was cold after a nights sleep. One of many reasons she decided it was best to wet it again. It was an adult diaper and huge, it could take at least three huge wettings before she had to change. She still couldn't wet laying down although she'd been enjoying diapers for years. Alex tossed her blanket off and knelt on her bed, diaper crinkling as she moved. The noise was something Alex enjoyed a lot. "Mrrow!" Of course. "I didn't forget you, you furball. Give me two minutes and i'll get breakfast for both of us." She told the fat, one eyed, grey cat her girlfriend Morgan had named Odin. He jumped down from her desk and pat pat patted over to the bed. "Murrrowwww." He cried, digging his claws into the comforter and stretching his back. "Ok, ok, jeez. You're so whiny today." Alex said, bending down to pet him for a second. "I miss her to. Goddammit, Abby." Abby was Morgan's mother, a cold women who never seemed to care about anyone but herself, least of all Morgan and her girlfriend. But Morgan was visiting her for a few days in the hospital after she had a stroke. Alex thought she was better off dead so Morgan had one less thing to worry about, they could even leave the funeral arrangements to her brother Jake. Alex climbed off her bed and waddled into the kitchen for breakfast. Odin followed impatiently at her heels. She bent down to open the cupboard under the sink and pulled out his food, pouring out a good amount of food into his bowl that she was sure he'd complain about later. Satisfied after he started to eat, she put his food away and started a pot of coffee. She made a mental note that they were out of coffee and she'd have to buy some before Morgan got back tomorrow. "Shit." She said, realizing the second she started the machine that she'd made enough for two people instead of one. Alex couldn't help but smile at what Morgan's reaction would be. Morgan would say 'you're so adorable, I love you so much.' and then kiss her on the cheek. Morgan was wonderful. Alex stood in front of the coffee pot as it dripped coffee, spread her legs a little to get comfortable, and began to wet herself. At first it was a spurt, greedily soaked up by her diaper. Then she breathed out the tension and relaxed. The floodgates opened and Alex listened to the drip of the coffee as well as the hiss inside her diaper. She wasn't sure what was better. The warmth that was spread throughout her diaper was hard to contend with though, especially since she hadn't even had a sip of coffee yet. She trusted it to hold another wetting if she stayed in it that long but she didn't trust the powder to prevent a rash and she definitely didn't trust the chair if she sat down. Alex checked the pot, not even half full yet, and decided she had enough time to at least put on pants. A shower would take too long and her coffee would either burn if she left the pot on or grow cold if she turned it off. Pants would do. The shirt she had only worn to bed so it would do for the day since she didn't plan on going anywhere important. She crinkled back to her bedroom, grabbed the wipes from the end table, and laid down on the rug. "This sucks." She said aloud. "Fuck, you stupid old woman. I want my damn girlfriend back." Alex ripped the tabs off one side of her diaper then the other and raised her hips so she could slide it out from under herself. Then she balled it up and set it aside to be dealt with later. Wiping herself clean took only marginally longer than getting the sodden garment off had. She grabbed the diaper and walked it and the wipes over to the diaper pail and tossed them in. After she wiped her hands on her legs for good measure she put her Wonder Woman panties on and threw on a pair of black hip hugger jeans. Alex walked back into the kitchen and prepped her mug for coffee by adding far too much sugar. She turned off the pot and poured herself a cup. "What do I want for coffee, Odin? No, wait, I have coffee. Breakfast. I need breakfast." She asked the cat laying on the table. Technically he wasn't supposed to be on it, Morgan always brushed him off, but Alex didn't have the heart to. No food was on the table so she didn't see the harm in letting him relax a little. They put the table under the window for a reason, Odin enjoyed the warmth of the sun like they did. "We don't have any food. Kill me." Alex said, looking up at the cupboard which should have a couple things of cereal but did not. The fridge was empty yesterday. The cupboards had enough canned goods and pasta for a while but no boxed mixes and barely any snacks. She opened one to check on the state of her peanuts. None. No toffee, honey roasted, or even regular ones. "Right, I finished those last night. Looks like I need to go shopping, Odin. Might as well get breakfast on the way." The 1917 was a coffeeshop she and Morgan liked to visit at least once a week and the perfect place to stop in to for breakfast. It was small and eccentric, old french jazz followed by modern klezmer was common from the couple of wireless bluetooh speakers throughout the place. They went there often enough that they were personal friends with everyone who worked there and their phones could connect to the speakers. "Hey, Claire." Alex smiled at the lanky blonde behind the counter. Claire had her hair up in a messy bun which left the bandage of a new neck tattoo on display. Alex, being friends with Claire, knew that it was supposed to be a rose with the name Sebastian in it. Sebastian was Claire's dog. He wasn't dead, Claire just loved him. She was adorable. The bandage was on the opposite side of her neck from an old tattoo. The old one was an image of the wicked curved beak and profile of some bird of prey, an homage to the fact that Claire could fly. Claire, like many other people, was an SPI- a super powered individual. It was the stupid, official, government acronym. Alex preferred the more general term- variant human, variant for short. "Yo." The taller woman gave a quick, two fingered wave to her as she handed a latte to a customer. "Regular?" "Yes, please." Alex said before paying and tipping her. She figured that she and Morgan gave a good ten dollars a week in tip to Claire. Not that they minded. Claire was funny, charming, nice, and totally gorgeous. Just like Morgan. She and Morgan were working up the nerve to ask her out. "Here you go. Cinnamon raisin bagel with peanut butter, large hazelnut coffee with a bit of caramel swirl and a dash of cinnamon, and a fresh baked jumbo, vegan, croissant. All made with love." Claire announced, putting it all on the counter with a flourish. "Thanks." Alex could feel her cheeks go pink. Morgan and her would definitely have to sit and down and talk about asking her out. She went to sit down at her table so the guy behind her could order. "Hey, what'ya think of the the bill they want to put through?" The man, no one she recognized, asked her. "The one that would make them nonhuman with no human rights? It's fucking bullshit. They're people like everyone else. Obviously." She all but growled. "Good, good. You look like someone who'd go to a protest. There's a rally at the statehouse Tuesday, starts at noon. We need the bodies." He said. "I'll think about it." She said before she settled at her table with her breakfast. A protest was good but that didn't mean she was about to trust some rando. He could be a fed or anti-variant. Or worse, both. Her breakfast would've been good, the food and coffee were always delicious, but Rally Guy had other plans. "Mind if I sit?" He asked. "Yes." She replied. He faltered. The man was pretty and obviously enjoyed using his boyish good looks. "Are you sure?" "Pal, I have a girlfriend and i'd like to eat my breakfast in peace. Please stop bothering me." "Fine." He said with no small amount of disgust. Which was exactly why Alex didn't advertise her powers like most people. She got enough flak for being an autistic lesbian, she didn't need to tell everyone she was a variant while she was at it. Alex barely tasted the rest of her food. Hopefully food shopping would go better, it was usually relaxing. Usually being the keyword she found out.