This entire pizza will end up in my diaper in a few hours turning me into a squishy butt 🥺
would you change my poopy pizza butt? 🤢
Tree Drawings, Tim Knowles
A closer look at British artist Tim Knowles’ series of drawings produced using drawing tools attached to the tips of tree branches; the wind’s effects on the tree, recorded on paper. Like signatures each drawing reveals the different qualities and characteristics of each tree.
Instagram.com/wetheurban
Why I Wear Diapers 24/7 – The Truth Behind the Crinkle
I didn’t always wear diapers.
In fact, for a long time, I thought it was something I could turn on and off — like a secret fantasy I could indulge in when I was alone, then hide away and pretend to be “normal.”
But the truth is… it never felt complete.
Wearing for a few hours, changing when I felt like it, knowing I could step out of it whenever I wanted — it gave me control. And that was exactly the problem.
Because deep down, I didn’t want control.
I wanted to be taken care of.
I wanted to feel small, safe, helpless — and yes, owned.
That’s when Mommy stepped in.
Not just as a roleplay partner… but as someone who saw what I truly needed:
To be put in diapers full-time.
No “sometimes.” No “only at night.” No “only when I feel like it.”
Now I wear diapers 24/7.
Thick, crinkly, sometimes even locked.
I wake up in them. I work in them. I sleep in them. I mess in them.
And I no longer ask if I’m allowed to go to the toilet — because that’s not even a question anymore.
Mommy decides when I get changed.
Sometimes after one accident.
Sometimes after three.
Sometimes not at all, just to remind me who’s in charge.
Every layer of padding is a reminder: I’m not in control.
Every denied change makes me smaller.
Every squishy step, every diaper check, every babyish onesie or locked cover —
pulls me deeper into the role I was meant to live: her baby.
It’s not always easy.
It’s humiliating. Exposing. Sometimes even uncomfortable.
But it's also calming.
Safe. Real.
When I feel Mommy’s hand between my legs, checking if I’m wet…
or when she pats my thick diaper and whispers, “Good boy for using it,”
I don’t feel shame.
I feel home.
Diapers aren’t just a kink anymore.
They’re part of who I am.
They keep me grounded. Dependent. Honest.
They strip away the illusion of adulthood I was never meant to carry.
This is my truth.
This is my place.
This is me, 24/7.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Reblog if you understand.
Follow if you wish it was you.
Message if you’re ready to give up control too.
Spent new years locked in chastity and my wife's used diaper. ❤️
Snoop Dogg narrating planet earth is what the world needs
RIP Alan Rickman
Hold Close - IngridTan
i cast concussion! [beats you over the head with my staff]
I don’t want to be a grown-up right now, so I need your help to make little again.
Take off my clothes. My grown-up clothes. I’m so exhausted from being an adult that I need you to do it for me. Please, take everything off slowly. I want to savior every moment of this transformation, for it alone helps ease my distress.
The last piece of grown-up clothing to go will be my panties. I bet they’ll be damp, but from what? It doesn’t matter, because I won’t be needing them anymore. I don’t want them anymore.
For that moment I’ll be naked, and I don’t like to be naked. It has nothing to do with being shy or self-conscious. I’m in my safe place and on my way to being little, so though grown-up feelings no longer exits.  I just need something against my body to cling too and bring me comfort. A security blanket. Except what I want isn’t a blanket. It’s a diaper.
Make me ask for it. Make ask you to change me into diaper. Make me tell you how much I love my diapers. Make me tell you how much I need and want them.
“Please, please change me into diaper. I don’t want to be a big girl anymore.” “I want wear big, thick diapers that make me waddle when I walk.” “I love how my diaper feels on me. Especially when you rub and pat my diaper.” “I’m too little for big girl panties and surely make puddles on the floor without the protection of a diaper.” “When I go potty in my diapers it feel so warm and wonderful. I want diaper to become bloated and I won’t to change it till it sags down to floor.” “I want to be a naughty little girl who needs diapers. Please, please put me in a diaper. Please”
The sound of a crinkling diaper always gives me butterflies. They’re the good kind of butterflies. The butterflies that make my stomach and my whole body tingle. Especially tingling down there.
Please, please pick me up, even if you’re just going to set me down again. When you set me down to put me in a diaper I’ll be good. I won’t kick or fuss, not even when the cold wipes tease my privates.
Tease me. Take your time. Make your movements slow and careful. Stop just to coo and baby-talk me. That will always make me blush and want to hide my face.
Praise me or scold me. It doesn’t matter. Am I a good baby for being so patient during my change? Or… Am I a naughty baby for needing diapers and wanting to wet them? Again, it doesn’t matter. Both will make me squirm and wiggle due to the overwhelming amount of butterflies in me.
Back to the diaper change~
Lotion and powder are a must. They smell so wonderful and further help start to shift into my little-place. They also require rubbing. A delicate gentle touch down there will always make me purr.
I’m ready. I’m so ready.
Once the diaper is on the contract is sealed. A big diaper for a little girl. I’m a little baby now and you’re charge.
My transformation will be complete. The diaper hides any hints of being an adult.
I’ll be Little. I’ll be your Little. Take good care of me, okay?