#littlespaceelvis

lil elvis telling you about his day after you pick him up after daycare 🥹

Aww

“Mommy we built castles with the blocks, we read blocks, we played dress up! All the things and then I got super tired so I took a nap!” And now he’s hyper again bc he’s happy to see you and he just woke up

here are some of the procedures

walking, you need to check if the little stumbles too much or walks fine. elvis tries to get up but he can't, he only manages to stay up in wobbly legs for about 10 seconds and then he ends up in the floor. his legs give out on him and he just looks at wanda

coordination. must know if the little is coordinated enough or not. e is q 50/50, depending on his headspace. he has enough coordination during the test

speaking. try to identify if the little babbles or can speak fluently. older littles don't babble that much. e babbles a lot during the test or just points, he isn't that verbal.

potty trained or not. a question that's asked to the cg. e isn't potty trained, he uses diapers.

bottles, sippy cup, teether, paci, etc. they give the little some things to see which one he prefers. e crawls towards the bottle as soon as he sees it, he throws the sippy cup. the paci is in his mouth for 5 seconds until he spits it out, the teether doesn't catch his attention for a lot of time. e immediately sucks his hand after getting rid of the paci.

socialize. need to know if they're good with other littles around. e isn't, he hates other littles

e headspace is babyspace and now the press believes us after the check up. and we just cuddle e and he babbles so much

Headspace checks are normal for E because he sometimes fluctuates from baby space to a bit older like 2 (when he's brattier and wanting things done a certain way is when he's older. Babyspace is when he's basically content all day just being in someone's arms, being super sleepy that sorta thing) We shouldn't have to prove anything the press but we do it anyway and E smiles at the cameras and waves and stuff and tries to show off a bit to the people all watching him do this headspace check up

when he's big e also loves belly rubs and when he's little and he's shirtless we LOVE to tickle his belly or just rub his belly. he loves skin tl skin contact so e just hugs us or we lay our head on his tummy and he just laughs

He either looks at em with puppy eyes or just glares like "excuse you?You're not my CG or my wife so kindly fuck off" We give him sweets and pastries and stuff as like a middle finger to the press that throws dirt on us in the tabloids.

He loves us touching his belly no matter what headspace, he loves being shirtless and relaxing with his arms above his head like a cat showing off their belly lol

Kiwi:

After reading over the asks from the baby steps AU, I came up with this writing piece since I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, and I thought you might like to see it. I will warn you, there is a lot of angst in this, so I’d recommend you be careful.

****

Elvis was scared out of his mind.

The little boy had suddenly been forced into the Colonel’s car (not even giving him a chance to get a seatbelt on), and now the two of them were driving haphazardly through dark streets that he didn’t recognize.

It was all his fault, he thought. As usual. He knew he should’ve gotten up and gone to the potty, but he also knew he wasn’t allowed out of his crib after the Colonel put him in there, and it had been hours…it had felt so good to let go after not being allowed to have his diapers for so long.

When the Colonel had finally come home that night and found Elvis had soiled his underpants yet again, he’d flown into a rage, striking him several times and berating him harshly. Then he’d grabbed the little’s wrist and forced him into the car, still cursing at him in a foreign language. Elvis had only had time to grab Mr. Bunny (not that it mattered much, he was the only toy he’d been allowed to have) and was now desperately trying to stifle his cries in the hopes he wouldn’t be hurt more.

Suddenly, the car stopped, almost knocking Elvis out of his seat. They were in front of a large building whose colorful sign read “The Shepherd Academy—Foster Center for Littles”. 

The Colonel stepped out of the car, moving to the side door to open it. In a last-ditch hope of appeasing his “caregiver”, Elvis reached out his arms and whimpered to be picked up. Instead, the Colonel let out a snarl, grabbing Elvis’s wrist and forcing him to walk inside the center.

“You’re someone else’s problem now, my boy. But I doubt even they’d be willing to deal with such a disgusting little creature as you are.” 

With that, the Colonel left the center, got into his car and drove away.

At hearing all the commotion, Wanda, one of the more experienced workers, rushed out to see what was going on, and was shocked at what she saw.

It was a little.

But something definitely wasn’t right.

The little black-haired boy was skinny, sucking his thumb and clutching a stuffed rabbit, and was only wearing a dirty-looking pair of overalls and a shirt; it was freezing cold tonight. He wasn’t even wearing shoes; his little feet must’ve been freezing. And judging by the dark stains on his crotch, he’d clearly had a big accident.

But what scared Wanda the most was that he was standing, and wobbling in place. He looked so frightened.

She’d seen many types of littles, enough so to recognize a little in baby space when she saw one. Babies crawled, not walked. So he shouldn’t be upright right now.

Carefully, trying not to scare him, Wanda began to approach the little boy, her warm dark brown eyes brimming with worry as she moved her long black hair back behind her ears, before she spoke.

“Sweetie? How’d you get here? Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond, just looking around in a confused way. So she tried again.

“Honey? Where’s your caregiver?”

That seemed to get his attention; his eyes began to brim with tears. “He…gone.” The boy whimpered, before suddenly falling to the ground and starting to cry as his legs gave out from under him. Immediately, Wanda jumped into comfort mode, running to embrace the tiny boy as she cuddled him.

“Shh, shh shh shh. It’s okay, honey. Everything’s gonna be all right. We’re here to help you. Shh, it’s okay. Auntie Wanda’s got you. You’re safe now.”

Elvis cried for a while, keeping his head buried in Wanda’s shoulder as she gave the other workers directions, asking one to get Helen and Trixie (the two nurses on staff that night) in order to examine him, as well as another to get a bath, a bottle, and some new clothes ready for him. 

Once the little boy had calmed down a bit, and she’d managed to get him to tell her his name, Wanda gently lifted him into her arms. “Okay, sweetie, we’re gonna take you back into the cleansing station now. Do you know what that is?”

Elvis just shook his head.

“It’s somewhere where we can get you cleaned up and looked at. There’s two good friends of mine back there who are gonna look you over and make sure you’re not sick, and then maybe we can get you some food. Don’t worry, Auntie Wanda’s gonna be there with you the whole time, okay?”

Elvis nodded, but still clung to her and his rabbit as she carried him into the cleansing station, before sitting down with him in her lap; she didn’t trust herself to let go of him yet even though her uniform was getting wet from his accident.

Trixie, a young woman with blonde hair and brown eyes, gently approached the two, explaining to Elvis who she was and that she and Helen were just going to look him over and make sure he wasn’t getting sick, promising not to hurt him. She and Helen kept up a gentle pattern of small talk as Helen examined him and Trixie took his temperature (he whined a little as the scanning thermometer was put in his ear, but Wanda managed to soothe him and get him to stay still). 

Helen sighed as she looked at Trixie and Wanda, explaining what she saw as Wanda fed Elvis a large bottle of milk. 

“He’s severely dehydrated; I can tell from the way he’s gulping down that bottle. There are bruises on his shoulder and neck; I think somebody has shaken him. He has a mild fever, and there’s a cigarette burn on his right foot. I can’t know more until we take his clothes off, so let’s get him in the bath once he’s done drinking his bottle and figure out what’s going on here.”

Wanda rubbed Elvis’s back as he finished his milk. “How could someone do this to you, baby?” She asked quietly, not expecting an answer as she patted his back to burp him.

With that, Wanda lifted Elvis onto the room’s changing table and removed his torn overalls and shirt, before gasping at what she saw.

He was only wearing a wet and soiled pair of white men’s briefs. Not a diaper, which she knew all littles needed when they were small. Carefully, she removed his soiled underwear and tossed it away before Helen and Trixie began to examine the rest of his body as she started to wipe him clean.

There were bruises, red marks and scratches all over his little body; the worst of them seemed to be on his back and bottom. Helen observed they may have been caused by a belt strap or buckle, and a couple looked like they were caused by the toe of an adult shoe. Not only that, but he had a nasty looking diaper rash, as if he hadn’t been cleaned up or changed in days. Ultimately, Wanda decided to have them take some pictures of his injuries in case they needed to go to the police with this. Little abuse was extremely rare around this area.

As they were doing this, Trixie gently rubbed his belly and stroked his black hair to try and comfort the little one. “It looks like you’ve got some nasty boo-boos there, honey. What happened?” She asked quietly, trying not to startle him.

“Was bad.” Or “Went potty.” Was all Elvis would say when she asked him about various injuries before hiding his face in Mr. Bunny. She figured it was best if she didn’t press him further for now.

As she cleaned Elvis up and began to put diaper cream on his rash, Wanda was boiling inside (as were the two other women); who in their right mind punished a little for having accidents? It was no secret that littles couldn’t control themselves, wasn’t it?

As Wanda began applying the diaper cream to his bottom, the coldness of it startled Elvis and he involuntarily let out a small stream of pee onto the changing table. Wanda was a little surprised, but it was no big deal to her; messes were just part of taking care of littles, and she’d had plenty of bodily fluids get on her over the years. 

However, what she saw next broke her heart.

Elvis began to shake and cry, covering his face with his hands and apologizing repeatedly; he was shrinking away from them as if he was expecting to be hit for doing what his body did naturally. 

Wanda immediately reached up to rub his leg and his belly, reassuring him she wasn’t angry and that accidents happened all the time. Trixie nodded, saying she was right; littles couldn’t always control themselves and no one was mad at him for what happened. 

He seemed a little confused by their reaction, as well as the fact Wanda just continued putting the diaper cream on afterwards; after all, he normally got in trouble for having accidents with the Colonel.

Trixie just smiled at him. “Would you like a nice warm bath, sweetie? Have a nice soak in the warm water? We’ll make sure you’ve got some bubbles and bath toys to play with too.”

Elvis seemed to brighten up a little at that, nodding as he sat up on the table.

“But we’ll need to take your little friend here for a bit. He can’t go in the bath with you.”

At hearing this, Elvis’s face fell. Take Mr. Bunny? But he was all he had! No way was anyone taking him away from him! “No, no, no!” He shouted, looking like he was about to throw a fit as he held onto Mr. Bunny for dear life close to his face.

Wanda, sensing an impending meltdown, quickly stepped in. “Shh, sweetie. She doesn’t mean to take him away from you. It’s just that…well, stuffed animals are allergic to tub water. It makes their fur dry funny, and it could hurt them. Does your rabbit have a name?”

Elvis sniffled. “M—Mr. Bunny.”

Wanda nodded. “Hm, pretty. Well, it seems like you love Mr. Bunny very much. And I know you don’t want to risk him getting hurt by going in the water, right?”

Elvis seemed conflicted. Of course he didn’t want Mr. Bunny to get hurt! But…if he let go of him and couldn’t see him, he might lose him…what was he supposed to do?

Trixie spoke up again. “I know. Why don’t we put Mr. Bunny on the table over there? That way, you and him can still see each other but he won’t be in danger of getting wet. And we’ll make sure nobody takes him from you. You can have him back as soon as you’re dry and in your pajamas. Does that sound okay to you, sweetheart?”

Elvis bit his lip, thinking it over. In his little mind, it made sense. At least he knew that Wanda and the others wouldn’t let Mr. Bunny be taken away or get hurt. After a minute, he nodded and handed Mr. Bunny over to Trixie, who carefully took the little rabbit over to the table and sat him up so he could still see his rightful owner with his one button eye.

or if he just wants to hangout with us in the middle of the night e would sit on top of us and babble, play with our hair, have our fingers on his mouth, etc. and baby gets so happy if we bounce him and laugh with him

He more cries to alert us that he needs us so if he sleeps with us he's much quieter because we're already so much closer to him. So he'll whine, whimper or poke our face to wake us up if he's in the big bed but if he falls asleep in the nursery it's a big theatrical cry like "mama I NEED you NOW"

If he wakes up and is feeling pretty big, he still enjoys bottles! And we wake up with him big or little because we're so used to him waking us up while he's little that if he wakes up, we automatically wake up and are like "you okay" and he's just like "yeah, just wanted a bottle" and we can tell that by what he's saying that he's still pretty big and we get happy because we're about to get a shit ton of sleepy cuddles!

If he wants to hang out with us, he never wakes up and wants to play, he just wants to hang out with us because he knows we stay up usually after we put him to bed so because we're up he wants to be up so he wakes up to be with us and spend more time together. If he wants to hang we usually take him the kitchen to make a bottle and while he sits on our hip and drinks it, we just walk around the house (Graceland) while we he drinks it and E is just content being with us, too sleepy to care what we're doing. After his bottle he loves bouncing or swaying or rocking. But if we get in the rocker with him and try to put him back to sleep, but if he's not ready to sleep, he'll let you know by forcefully adjusting himself in your arms so that he's sitting up on your knees and babbling at you, not letting you lay him in your arm

"Mama! How could you?!" Elvis screams as he requested his purple puppy plushie and you realized you had left his little bag on the bed upstairs in Graceland. "I'm so sorry baby, we were in too much of a hurry. Mama's so sorry!"After ten minutes of E screeching and sobbing, Lamar pipes up as he comes up on a grocery store near the studio. We're quick to shut him down though thinking he is just gonna make things worse but no, he has an idea. "No, No, we're coming up on Montross Grocery. We can get him some formula and maybe a binky there." Elvis eyes the grocery store and so do you. "Would you like that baby? is that okay?" You ask as Lamar waits for E to tell him to either keep going or to pull in. "y-yeah." he whimpers as he wipes at his tear sticky face.

"Alright then no more tears, bubs." Lamar stays out in the car with a still whimpering Elvis so that he doesn't get recognized while we go in on a mission to find baby formula, a sippy, a paci and some sort of stuffed animal.

We know we're on a time crunch for the studio and if we're late again the Colonel will give us hell. So we end up running around the store like a chicken with their head cut off trying to find what we need but eventually we do.

You grab the first bib, paci, bottle of water and formula can you can find before tossing a 50$ bill at the cashier and rushing back to the SUV that held Elvis inside.

"Ope, look what mama got." Lamar encourages as he pulls back out of the parking lot. Face still sticky, he claps at the sight of his grocery store stuffy and the new paci, testing it out a bit before giggling around the nipple.

And then for the one thing he really wants, he watches as we take the new bottle and pour the bottle of water into it and mix the formula into it, shaking it up quickly while E is making grabby hands at us. "Here, all better?" Elvis only answers by stuffing the nipple of the bottle of his mouth and leaning all the way back, sucking greedily at the milk. "Good, no more tears bubby. Thanks Lamar." He nods, turning into the studio parking lot. "Y'know the Colonel's gonna yell." You make a psh noise, "Psh let him yell. My first priority is E." Lamar opens the door and mutters, "Damn straight."

Oh of course, El only allows us to yell or rather sternly redirect him. And he has his reasons that you're the only one allowed to do it. Sure Jerry's allowed to tell him no no matter what headspace he's in but you're the only one allowed to yell at him for being naughty. And that's what he's trying to be so that you'll take back the reigns from Jerry. The only time (besides this time) when Jerry yells at E is when they're playfully having screeching matches where Jerry just copies his sounds as he babbles at him and the volume of his screech gets louder and louder. So as the days goes on, Elvis is getting daring because he WANTS to test us to try and get the roles righted again, because he loves Jerry he does, but he wants YOU as his cg. And it feels so fucking weird for both you and him to not fill the roles you're so comfy in and it feels so weird for him to not be directed by you and instead directed by his best friend and he loves jerry but he DOES NOT like this little babysitting experiment one bit. And there's a reason for it. So he knows he's going to get yelled at when he plops himself down in the dirt in the garden and takes a fistful of loose dirt putting it up to his lips. He just expected it to be you yelling finally.

But instead he just hears you gasp from behind him and Jerry yelling. "Elvis Aaron Presley, don't you dare! You better drop that dirt right this minute." And you both watch in amazement to see his reaction as he jumps a bit, dropping the dirt in the process and is like "What the hell was that? Jer just yelled at me?" And slowly but surely, his eyes well up and his little lip starts to wobble and we're just on the verge of tears ourselves almost and we're just like "Oh no, Jer. Uuuuugh my baby." So Elvis wobbles to his feet and beelines for us but Jerry picks him up before he can get to us and Elvis fights him in his arms as Jerry carries him inside, trapping him in his timeout hell of a giant playpen.

And we both leave him in the living room for five minutes because you really want to stop the experiment now and comfort him but at the same time you know he needs to be punished for trying to eat dirt so you leave before you crack. And sure enough you hear a thump and Jerry turns to you and is like "Was that what I think it was?" and you just smile at him like "you didn't think big boy has never gotten out of his playpen before there jer?" and we hear Elvis's hands smacking the floor as he slowly crawls toward the kitchen because he knows you're in there.

And we tell Jerry to kind of stay back because we're done and we want to handle this so of course Elvis immediately comes to us and sits at our feet, arms up wanting to be picked up. We pick him up and sway him, cupping our hand on the back of his head, shushing him. And we hear something that just breaks our heart, "Mama still love Elvis?" "WHAT? Of course mama does baby. I love you so much." And you noisily kiss his cheek. Elvis smiles and places his head on our shoulder.