archivist2
Hello!
This is going to be the first chapter of a series I'm writing, inspired by my love of punk rock, the rockism vs poptimism debate in music criticism, online stan culture, and how when I was in high school I used to fantasize about all my celebrity crushes being secret diaper fetishists. I call it "The Pop Star Princess and the Punks in Pampers", and it's about a fabulously wealthy pop star with a secret omorashi and ageplay fetish meeting, falling in love with, and dating all the members of a queer ABDL punk band.
It's my first story, so the usual applies: constructive criticism only, don't like don't read, yadda yadda.
Vanessa Sinclair is a composite of several real world pop stars from my high school years. In my first draft, I had used the name of a real pop singer (not telling who!), but it felt weird and invasive to write about a real-life woman who has already been the target of so much baseless speculation about her personal life, so I added details from the lives of other pop stars in order to make a more fleshed out character
Hope you enjoy!
---
The Popstar Princess and the Punks in Pampers.
Vanessa Sinclair was at the top of her game. With her most recent album Late Night Show, she tied Michael Jackson and Katy Perry with five number ones off one album. And with that success came the usual pop star life routine: endless touring to sold out stadiums, constantly having to check if you got a bag of Haribo gummy bears in the dressing room, (part of a secret test to ensure the pyrotechnics rig was set up properly so that nobody could get set on fire), monotonous radio interviews, commercials in Japan, breaking up with your NBA player boyfriend because he couldn’t handle the fame and it meant that his team kept losing in blowout game after blowout game, invasive tabloid bullshit, obsessive stans who keep trying to read your every social media post to decode that you and Margot Robbie are secretly gay lovers…
..She had enough. Of everything. Of being a squeaky-clean pop star. Of never getting the critical respect that Taylor Swift or Gaga got. Of having to sing that insipid “My Last Boyfriend” song she wrote when she was 15 about some kid from high school who dumped her. Of having to hide her real self: the pants wetting weirdo that likes to cuddle stuffed animals and suck her thumb. She remembers when the tabloids started taking the pictures of her with her thumb in her mouth: she felt violated, like a sacred space was being intruded upon. It pissed off the record company to no end
After that last show in Singapore, she went inside her hotel room shower and pissed in her silk panties. She loved the feeling of the warm wetness against the soft silk, soaking up the fabric in a squishy embrace. She had a bedwetting problem for years, and she grew to love the feeling of waking up in pissy Goodnites. When she moved to LA as a teen to be a pop star, she wanted to write a song about being a bedwetter…and the record company turned it down once they found out she was gonna sing about how much she liked being a bedwetter. They wanted it to be “inspirational”. They were no fun at all. Not like this: this was fun, wetting your panties like a naughty toddler.
"Naughty Nessa..." she whispered to no one in particular. "If you act like a baby you should be treated like one..."
All of her exes thought it was weird. That's the real reason why she was unlucky in love. Even the girls she dated were all boring and vanilla: she thought Hollywood was supposed to be full of weridos. What happened?
---
On the plane ride home, her handlers were constantly asking her what her next plan was.
“I think I’ve reached the point where I can afford to take a break…I need to clear my head. I want to travel across America, find myself.”
“Like in Nomadland?” said her agent
“Well, isn’t being a musician already kinda like that movie?”
“Yeah, it is” said her stylist.
“I’m gonna probably just go across America, visit local musicians, see the local scene. We can livestream it on my TikTok.”
“Great idea, could make you look like a philanthropist…”
“No, you don’t understand. I want to talk to musicians who aren’t like me. Who don’t have private jets. Who are lucky if they can afford more than one Econoline van.”
“Ah, I get it, you want to speak to real people.” said her publicist. “Could some of them collaborate on your next album?”
“Perhaps…”
—
Meanwhile. a dive bar in Portland, Oregon, a most unusual band was starting to play. They were a polycule, all trans and non-binary, who played loud and fast hardcore with a sweet, babyish edge. They were called the Daycare Dropouts: on lead vocals and guitar was Sally Skunkbutt, a transfemme autistic furry famous for wearing a skunk tail everywhere. On bass was Maxxie Meadowsweet, a big-hearted non-binary trans man who always had a smile on his face. On drums was Pip Squeak, a small but mighty trans woman with a mohawk and a penchant for pink. And on keyboards, backing vocals and "everything else" was Hannah Huggiez, a self-identified sissy baby who wore adorable babydoll dresses. And all of them wore proudly wore diapers.
"We're the Daycare Dropouts. We make kinky music for people who never grew up. We piss and shit and diapers because it turns us on, and if you don't like it, fuck off and listen to Imagine Dragons. If you like it, good, because it's recess and we want to play!"
The band launched into their first song, "Einstein Got An F". It was a blistering condemnation of the education system: "Newborn babies are smarter than you/That's why they take them and teach them to be cruel/We're saying fuck that, get in touch with your youth/If you like to shit your pants, say 'FUCK YOUR RULES!'"
The whole crowd chanting along saying FUCK YOUR RULES. Some of them were dressed in diapers just like the members of the band, others were wearing regular clothes, but they were obviously about the be stained. As the band began to wet and mess in their diapers, so did the audience, leaving a trail of filth that made the place only slightly grimier than before.
"Okay, this next song is about me" said Sally. "It's about how when I was a teeny-tiny closeted transling bedwetter going through middle school in bumfuck nowhere Idaho, surrounded by psychos and kids who grew to be Nazi terrorists, I had only one escape: Vanessa Sinclair!"
The crowd giggled. "It's true. Vanessa saved my life."
Pip Squeak spoke up. "People say she's manufactured. So were the Sex Pistols! Malcolm McLaren created them as an advertising campaign for Vivienne Westwood fashion."
"This is gonna sound controversial, but I like her better than Taylor Swift. Everyone says Taylor's a better songwriter. Yes, but Vanessa just seems to be having more fun. We like fun" said Maxxie. "We only make music to have fun."
Hannah spoke up next. "And like, why do people even give a shit anymore? BTS are just as manufactured and fake...their fans eat it up. Anyway, here's the song, it's called 'Thank You Miss Sinclair'"
—
“Hey there, bunnies! It's your gal Nessa coming at you with Nessa News.” “Bunnies” was what Vanessa called her fans. Her fans ate it up: they called themselves the Bunny Brigade and wore rabbit ears to her shows. “I’m a little frazzled after the Late Night Show tour, so sad news, I’ll be taking a year off before doing another album. But the good news is that I’m gonna travel around America, and see what great music these United States have to offer! You’re all gonna see it only on my TikTok, it’s called ‘Vanessa’s Van!’”
“And for the first stop, as voted on by my fans: we’re going to PORTLAND. Oregon, not Maine.”
Sally was watching the livestream on her phone. She was excited about the idea of Vanessa Sinclair, her childhood idol, the woman who gave her the strength to come out as trans and leave the Mormon Church, coming to her humble hometown. But she knew she probably wouldn't meet her, the weirdo punk in diapers. As much as she loved Nessa, she was still a pop star, and her record company probably didn't want her mingling with weirdos after the Thumb Sucking Incident (as the Bunny Brigade called it)
And then, Sally noticed something nobody else did. When Nessa was bending over to get something, the waistband of a Pull-Up was visible behind her skirt.
"Oh, Nessa, you never changed at all..."
Chapter 2: The Dream of the 90's
It was another TikTok live stream, showing Vanessa showing off the beginning of the "Vanessa's Van" project.
"Hey, bunnies! We're just about to leave LA for Portland, and I wanted to show off the van!"
The "Vanessa Van" was a refurbished old school bus, a hybrid that ran off of vegetable oil and electricity. She had decked it out as a cozy, rolling motel room on wheels, complete with its own Wi-Fi.
"All right, so here's where I sleep...it's surprisingly comfy. Here's where I keep all my cool stuff: the notebook where I write songs, my keyboard and guitar...and 'other things'."
Long time Bunnies knew that the 'other things' were diapers and baby things. It was an open secret ever since the Thumb Sucking Incident...but nobody wanted to talk about it, because she obviously wasn't ready to come out yet.
She wished she could, though. She wished she could tell them all about how she thought messing her panties was cute. She wished she could show off the cute onesies she would wear.
"...and that's about it. I'll catch up with you later to talk about time in Portland!"
---
Sally was watching this stream with her band mates.
"You never told us much about your childhood," said Maxxie. "All you said was that you grew up in Idaho."
"And it sucked." said Sally. "Everyone was either a Nazi, a tweaker, or a Nazi tweaker. I had no one to talk to about the music I loved. And that music was Vanessa Sinclair. Everyone in Gemstone Flats was into country music, but Vanessa was my escape. Oh sure, other bands and artists had more respect, but with Vanessa it felt like you were joining a community of people who wanted to have fun."
"Yeah, you told me you wrote fanfiction about her..."
"She's a bed wetter. Just like me" said Sally. "I know she doesn't talk about it, but I know for a fact she's turned on by diapers."
"Yeah, practically everyone knows" said Pip. "But like, do you think she can ever find the strength to admit it? To come out as a regressive like us? I mean, it's one thing to secretly like it, but to be a famous pop star and admit you like to wear diapers...that takes guts." Sally sighed, her heart aching for Vanessa. She knew what it was like to hide such an important part of yourself, to feel like you had to pretend to be someone you weren't.
"And like, I wanted to be her. I wanted to leave this podunk town and live life as a beautiful woman somewhere. But I knew I could never be here. That's why I became a punk. And even though I started listening to stuff like Boredoms and Black Tambourine, I could never find myself to hate Vanessa."
"Yeah, like, critics hate her for some reason! People always talk about how critics like pop now but they all despise Nessa because she's 'not serious enough'. Like, what the fuck do they want from her? To make songs whining about her relationships? To look into the camera and say that she's an anarchist now? I mean, I don't know, maybe they just don't get it. Maybe they're not as special as us." Maxxie scoffed, shaking his head. "But I think she's amazing. I mean, just look at how she's always been so down to earth, how she's stayed in touch with her fans. She's been through so much shit and she's still standing, you know? I think she's got a lot of strength that people don't give her enough credit for."
"Yeah, like when she went after Ticketmaster, or when she called out her abusers" said Hannah.
"Well, she's coming to Portland...hopefully I can meet with her and thank her for giving me strength"
---
When Vanessa arrived to Portland, she figured that there would be some people who disliked her. And there were: people were shouting "GENTRIFIER!" at her just for being in "the wrong neighborhood".
Most of the people were pretty nice, though. Vanessa being a big celebrity didn't bother them, they just treated her like a regular person. She did run into a few fans, and enjoyed streaming interviews with bands.
But one band's flyer intrigued her.
The Daycare Dropouts. Vanessa had never heard of them before, but their flyer showed them all wearing diapers!
Vanessa began to debate if she should go. "I don't want a repeat of the Thumb Sucking Incident" she thought to herself, "but the idea is just so cute and kinky, and who knows? Maybe I'll find some more people who really understand me." She decided to take a chance and headed to the dive bar where the Daycare Dropouts were playing.
The bar was called the Python Pit, and it was jumping. Nobody recognized her...or at the very least, nobody cared enough about her to point it out.
Until Sally said what everyone else was thinking. "Nessa! I just wanted to say...without you, I'd be dead. So here's a song we wrote for you! It's called 'Thank You Miss Sinclair!'"
Vanessa was absolutely amazed...and slightly worried. Did they know about her secret? Did everyone know about her secret and just didn't bother telling her?
"Don't worry, you're secret's safe with us!"
Yep. They knew.
---
"Um, hi, Vanessa. We've been following you for a long time, and we just wanted to say...you're not alone." Sally said, her voice wavering slightly. "We've all got our things, you know? I'm a furry, Maxxie here's a gentle dom, Hannah's a sissy, Pip is a brat and...well, I'm into diapers, too. We all are..."
"Lemme guess, you liked the fact that I was an open bedwetter?"
"It made you seem more real", said Sally. "Growing up in some shithole in Idaho, being a faggy bedwetter instantly made you a target."
"Real? Honey, I was never real. This is all manufactured. It all is. Isn't that what all pop music is?"
"You're still real to us." said Pip. "The Sex Pistols were fake too! Besides, you seem to be having more fun than Taylor."
"Yeah, everyone compares me and Taylor, and it sucks because she gets all the critical acclaim even though she's just as fake as me."
"Do you think that a bunch of people who wear diapers in their 20's care about what other people think of them?" said Hannah
"Yeah...I wish I could be like that."
"You can be. You have all the money in the world, you can afford it"
"Well, yeah, but it's bad for my image..."
"No, I mean, you can afford it 'ruining your image' or whatever. You had five number ones off of one album...I didn't even think that was still possible after Spotify. You've reached a point where you can do whatever you want. You could just drop your next single and say 'I'm going to make an album of nothing but songs about wearing diapers' and it would still sell. People would still love it."
She paused. "Well, I'm gonna need help...how about, after I'm done driving around in a van, we could make an album together?"
"...that would be great. Let's call it something fun, like Playtime."
---
BREAKING NEWS FROM THE GOSSIP DEN:
As pop songstress Vanessa Sinclair visits Portland for her "Vanessa's Van" project, she's caught making out with a mysterious blue-haired girl. Sources say that she's Sally Skunkbutt, leader of the diapered punk band the Daycare Dropouts.
What does this mean for Vanessa's career? We don't know yet, but for the first time ever, I'm interested in her music!
---
A Twitter thread regarding the news:
WELCOME TO THE LATE NIGHT SHOW:
ok what the fuck did somebody wish on a monkeys paw?
Nessa Is Normal (BETRAYED):
FOR YEARS I WAS THE ONE WHO DEFENDED HER AGAINST THE SICK KINK FREAKS THAT THOUGHT SHE WAS ONE OF THEM AND NOW I KNOW SHE IS A SICK KINK FREAK. I AM SO CONFUSED...
Stinkybutt:
Look you were pretty much the only one who didn't believe it and you were obsessed with it. Methinks you doth protest too much...
BlueHairAndPronounce
okay are we ignoring the fact that this is the exact same story as a Wattpad fanfic i read in middle school?
Marnessa Is Endgame
HERE'S WHY MARGOT ROBBIE IS STILL VANESSA'S ONE TRUE LOVE:
(link to 489 page pdf file)
BlueHairAndPronounce
you're like one of those stranded Japanese soldiers who still haven't figured out World War II is over.