Friday, November 25th
70.)
Blossom made the decision that night to give Amy time to herself, and to trust that she wouldn't be a royal mess of anxiety and stress by the morning. When she woke up, she laid in bed and listened for the sounds of baking. It's not that she might have faulted her for the coping mechanism, because everyone had their own, but it would make Blossom pretty happy if she had been able to give her cupcake a good night's sleep.
When Blossom didn't hear anything, she got up out of bed and went to find the little writer girl.
Knock knock.
I almost didn't hear it, but I quickly sat up in bed and pulled the covers higher up on my body, though they were well and truly covering my diaper. Then Blossom opened the bedroom door and walked in.
"Morning," I said, readjusting my laptop on my lap. I was in the middle of a sentence.
"Oooh, this is a writing morning, how exciting! Don't worry, cupcake, I'm not gonna peer at your screen. That would be cheating and Blossom Brixley'd never do that."
"I'll be down in a bit," I said. "I'm almost done with the chapter."
Blossom did a little bow, like a maid or something, and left the room with the door slightly ajar. I looked at it long enough that I had to get up and close it myself. It was weird, knowing someone could watch me without me noticing. Thankfully, that simple action wasn't enough to interfere with my writing process.
Blossom decided to make herself useful. After waiting fifteen minutes for the delivery driver to arrive with supplies, she set about making breakfast. Eggs. Baked Beans. Toast. And Tater Tots. EBBTTT; a Brixley family specialty.
Or, the only breakfast her dad knew how to make.
I thought "a little bit" was going to be like five or ten minutes. It turned out to be almost an hour. I was reading and rereading the chapter just to be sure I didn't make any stupid grammar mistakes. When I was finally content, I climbed out of bed and caught sight of myself in the mirror. Just a t-shirt and a white diaper. I bit my lip and turned in place so I could see my butt. Gosh...
After a few minutes of internal debate - "I should change..." versus "but I don't wanna..." - I finally pulled my pajama pants up over the diaper. I shifted from one foot to the other and listened to the crinkling. Yeah, there was no way I could hide it. But I didn't have to, right? And maybe she was still wearing hers. I should have been paying more attention when she opened the door.
With a deep breath I steeled myself and picked up my laptop. Then I went downstairs - still diapered - to find Blossom.
"Oh hey there, cupcake."
Blossom was, in fact, not wearing a diaper. She was wearing an unbuttoned flannel shirt that was too big for her, which she wore over a cute and very skimpy set of pajamas: shorts that might well have been panties and a cami top that wasn't much bigger than a bra. She had her hair up in a messy bun, and she looked every bit what Hollywood might want you to think cute girls looked like when they first got out of bed.
And just like those Hollywood girls, Blossom too curated this look, spending considerable time in front of the mirror to make it perfect.
"I made you breakfast, babydoll. I put it in the oven to stay warm."
"Sorry it took so long," I said sheepishly. She walked around the counter and it was pretty clear that I was the only one who was still in a diaper. I almost turned around and went upstairs to change, but... well hey, she wet herself in front of me yesterday! This wasn't so weird. Right?
Blossom made up a plate for me and I sat down on the bar stool with a crinkle. My cheeks instantly took on some color and I set down my laptop. It felt like the first time I came down in a diaper, a month ago. It felt like a lifetime ago.
"Gosh I wish you could see how hot you are, cupcake."
Blossom sipped a cup of coffee as she leaned over the other side of the kitchen counter, smiling perkily.
I rolled my eyes and tried not to look at Blossom. She pushed a plate across to me with a fork. I wondered if we could get like those little plastic silverware sets for the beach house, or maybe those rubber-tipped spoons. They always reminded me of ice cream.
"So, how was writing?" Blossom asked, trying to hide her eagerness. She did a bad job.
"I finished a chapter, if that's what you mean," I said nonchalantly, playing it cool.
"Outstanding! I can't wait to see your Blossom insert character; I bet she's gonna get her comeuppance. Or maybe she'll work for…" she leaned in to whisper in a hushed tone, "the Academy!"
I took a bite of toast and a fork-full of eggs. I wasn't a beans person, so I skipped those altogether, but the idea of tater tots for breakfast was new to me. I mean, it was basically hash browns, right? Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Blossom basically vibrating in place, waiting for me to be done. I took my time. I guess this was my version of bullying.
"You're being a teeeaaaaase, nobody takes three bites of a single tater tot, cupcake, c'mon!"
She was a little riled up, but in a fun, playful way. She was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.
"Hm? Did you want something?" I looked over at Blossom, who was pouting with unbelievable vigor. "I didn't hear you ask for anything..." I took another bite of a tater tot.
Blossom puffed out her cheeks in protest and bounced a few more times, demonstrating handily that her pajama top gave no support to her more than ample boobs.
"Amyyy! I wanna read!"
"Ah ah," I hushed her, looking up at her with a smile. Her allure was a lot less intense when I had the upper hand. Good thing too, or she could probably make me do anything. "That's not how you ask for things, is it?"
Blossom's whine was legendary, well-practiced, and absolutely adorable. It usually made things go her way by melting hearts, but Amy was having none of it. She just smiled that knowing smile and it made Blossom look pretty crestfallen.
"I dunnoooo! How do I ask for things?"
"Well, asking is a key step. You know, phrasing what you want as a question?" Which she had yet to do. I couldn't tell if she was being a brat or not, but either way. I had something she wanted, so she had to play my game. "And use your manners, of course."
This was where, with anybody else, Blossom would have flipped the script and gotten her way. Unless it was someone with a frail male ego, and then she'd make them think what she wanted was their idea. But that didn't describe Amy, not one bit. So Blossom thought for a moment and flashed her prettiest, brightest little smile she could muster, and even batted her eyelashes.
"Pretty please may I read the new chapter of Academy that you just finished writing?~"
Wow, that was cute. Like, really cute. I planned on making her beg a little, but...
"Yeah, alright," I relented. I brushed my hands off on my pajama pants and opened my laptop. The page was already loaded. I turned the laptop so Blossom could see it and she took a seat on the stool next to me.
Chapter Ten.
***
(If you are following Academy Works, please read Ch.10 [linked above] and return here to continue the story. If Ch.11 has been released, it is recommended that you DO NOT read it at this time.)
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