Stuck With You, Conclusion (Ace)

Stuck With You

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“A little bird told me you really love me, hmm hmm hmm…” Mummah was singing the same song over and over again. Her talky-box had it on repeat constantly, piping it through the house wherever she walked. Penelope was no stranger to repetition (FluffTV had a show called colors which was just that: Blocks of colors) but even this was beginning to drive her a little nuts.

“Mummah, am dewe nu odeh singy-songies?” She asked, but it seemed to be making mummah happy so maybe it was really rude to even inquire. Emily looked up from what she was doing, a giant garbage bag clutched under one worryingly thin arm.

“It’s a fantastic song, don’t you think Penelope? Because I’m going to be married soon! I’ll get to wear a pretty white gown, we’ll move somewhere different, you’ll have a DADDY!” This caused the fluffy to smile a bit. Whatever being ‘married’ was sure had to be good if it made mummah so happy. It had been two days like this where Emily had been tearing through the home, taking out things and using lots of icky smelling cleaning supplies to wipe old spills or mildew in the bathroom. Even her litterbox had been cleaned!

Also, a new daddeh? That was even better! Having a mummah was nice but a daddeh meant she could give love to TWO PEOPLE. Two was of course more than one and giving lots of love was the pinnacle of any fluffy’s existence. This caused Penelope to give a big smile. “Wub daddeh ‘an mummah. Bestest ebah.”

Taking a break from her cleaning, Emily tugged the fluffy over to the couch and got out a bottle of pills. Popping an orange flavored baby aspirin into Penelope’s mouth, she rubbed at the fluffy’s head until she swallowed dutifully.

“I know you still have ickle-wickle huwties after your accident.” It was no accident: It was an attack on her genitalia by Emily herself. “But! Medicine will make you feel better.” Not really. It still hurt a lot to piddle. Would Penelope say so? Not in a million years because her mummah was so happy.

“Teehee…wub yew mummah.” Was all she said which got her a great big hug and mummah pulled something special out from beside the couch. It was a hand puppet shaped like a monkey!

“Look out! Mister Monkey is going to CUDDLE YOU!” Penelope squealed and kicked her back legs out, being ‘chased’ around by the puppet and hopping down to the floor. This was a game they’d played when she was still a foal but she remembered it still. Being cornered by the puppet and hugged on, Penelope cooed and stuck her tongue out with a silly expression.

“I really love you, Penelope. You’re such a good fluffy. I’m going to go get dinner started.” Gently untucking the puppet from her hand she was on to her next activity. It was like she couldn’t sit still. Getting up from the carpet and wandering to the kitchen, Penelope watched her mummah hum that same song to herself and busy herself at the counter. Using a biiiiig meat mallet to ‘thunk!’ down on chicken breasts in order to flatten them down. This was called Chicken Parmesan which was accompanied by skettis, and they’d had it before. Yay! Penelope ran back to the living room and happy chased around the room with the monkey puppet in her mouth. The mallet made very loud noises and she didn’t want to be right there at the moment.

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Serving Penelope up a big fried, beaten out chicken breast which had been diced into bite-sized pieces along with skettis caused the fluffy to be over the moon. She shoved her face down into and nummed up chicken, slurped up noodles, got sauce everywhere. Mummah sat at the new clean dining table and picked at her food. Very rarely did she eat much and when she did, she always got sickies.

“Eat up until you’re alll full, Penelope. There’s even more if you’d like.” Grunting a bit, Penelope tried to eat as much as she could and her tummy comically pushed out as she did.

“Teehee…nu can num nu mowe, mummah.” Waddling around happily, it seemed like the biopet was about to burst. Without having eaten much of her food, Emily busied herself with cleaning up the pet dish and her own plate, humming a bit.

“Let’s take a bath. It’s been a long time since we’ve done that, hasn’t it?” Which caused Penelope to nod a bit. Unlike most fluffies, she wasn’t scared of baths or wawa. That’s because mummah always got in with her.

After dinner was cleared away, Emily went into the bathroom to draw them some water. Steam wafted out from the door and Penelope plopped herself down in front of FluffTV to watch Shapes. It was the hit new teebee show that was the spiritual successor to Colors. Watching a triangle bounce around the screen, her brain kind of went on autopilot until Emily came out to snug the fluff up and bring her to the washroom.

The room had been thoroughly cleaned since last we visited these two. Penelope sniffled at the air and found it no longer disgusting, instead there was only the smell of cleaner and the bright springiness of the bubblegum scented bubbles that Emily had frothed up into the bath. Setting Penelope down, she began getting undressed. The fluffy felt embarrassed to see this…you shouldn’t look at anyone’s no-nos and they shouldn’t look at yours, but also sad. There were many booboos all over her owner’s body. Some fresh, some older. Cutting scars along her arms, down the run of her thighs. Burn welts. Long bruises where she’d beat herself with a belt. Leaning out, Penelope hugged up against Emily’s leg. So many huwties.

“Awh. What’s with the hug? Come on.” Snatching Penelope up and sidling into the bath, the young woman sighed and immediately began dipping a cup into the water.

“Close your eyes, sweetie.” Penelope did so, pleasantly warm water being dumped over her head. This was repeated several times until she was wet all over. Some soap specifically for use for fluffies (No tears AND edible!) was brought out, brought up to a froth in her fur. Splishing about happily in the bubbles, she was feeling just like a foal again. Before Munstah Mummah had become so bad. Humming to herself, Emily asked for her to close her eyes again as more water came down to wash away the suds.

“All done. Now I’ll wash myself. You can play if you’d like.” Emily brought down a rubber ducky and a toy ship down from one of the shelves and Penelope would find this quite agreeable. Taking the rubber ducky up in her mouth and squeezing down, it produced the most delightful squeak. Turning so her owner could see, she rapidly squeaked down on it.

“Stooooop! You’re so cute!” Giggling, Emily ruffled the top of Penelope’s head. The fluffy responded by getting somewhat rambunctious and plowing back and fourth through the bubbles, sending some right to the floor. Mummah didn’t care though as they were both having too much fun.

Once they were both clean and all dried off, Emily did something rare: Putting on clean clothing. “I’m so tired. Tomorrow is going to be a big day. I’m going to meet your new daddy. And life is going to be so perfect.”

The two went to bed, far earlier than Penelope was accustomed to seeing her owner do so. Snugging up together underneath the blanket, the fluffy had forgotten all about the huwties that still existed. How scary Munstah Mummah was. This was her real owner. “Wub yew, mummah. Wub yew mostest ob aw.”

“Mmhmm.” Emily tightened her grip just a bit. Her fluffy felt so secured and adored that sleepiness came soon after. No nightmares, either. Just pleasant warmth and happy things.

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“Be good while I’m gone. Don’t have boys over!” Emily joked, standing at the doorway with her purse in hand. She was wearing make-up, her hair looked really nice, and she’d put on a clean dress. This made Penelope so happy to see!

“Otay mummah! Nu wiww hab boys!” Waggling her tail and waving ‘goodbye’ with a hoof, she watched as her mummah smiled and exited the apartment.

It felt kind of lonely not having Emily around. She was going on a ‘date’. A date for a new daddeh! Plopping down in front of FluffTV, the fluffy watched a rerun of Cinnamummah’s Happy Babbehs. It kind of made her sad. Not only was she denied having her own babbehs, but mummah had hurt her speciaw pwace. Now there was no hope of ever having them. Why couldn’t she get to be like Cinnamummah and be a good mommy? Emily would love all of her babbehs. She’d raise them to be super nice, always make gud poopies, and never backtalk.

“Miss mummah…” Looking down to the monkey handpuppet they’d been playing with yesterday, she picked it up with her mouth and snugged against it. Still kind of smelled like her and remembering the fun was very comforting. Closing her eyes as Cinnamummah talked about how gud babbehs didn’t lick electricity sockets, she went to sleepies again. Maybe mummah would be back when she woke up.

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The door SLAMMED open which caused Penelope to squeal with fear and do several rolls in an attempt to avoid what was a perceived threat. In stomped Emily, lines of dark mascara running down in tracks from her eyes all the way to her cheeks. Angry tears, frustrated, absolutely beside herself.

“He was fake! The entire time, just a FAKE GUY! He never h-had any intention of seeing me!” Tugging on her hair, which was done up in two braids, the woman screeched at the top of her lungs and sent one foot up to catch an end table and send it down to the floor. Knick-knacks and a frame photo of Emily and her mother was sent down, more screeching and hair pulling.

Penelope knew this was Munstah Mummah and immediately grew very afraid. It was silly to think she’d gone away forever. But mummah was hurting so badly. She could see it and as a fluffy, wouldn’t let the munstah win! Trotted up, hugged against one of Emily’s legs.

“It am otay mummah! Penewope am hewe! Wub yew! Pwease nu hab saddies!” Emily stared down to her fluffy, snorted, pushed down the hallway to the bedroom. Without even taking her shoes off, she shoved down under the blanket and curled up.

“Nobody loves me! I’ll never be loved! I’m sooooo ugly! I’m hideous! I’m a C-CANCER!” Loud sobs took over after this declaration. Legs kicked around under the blanket. Tossing, turning, biting at the sheet underneath her.

Penelope knew better than to bother mummah when she was like this. Sitting down in front of the TV, she trembled and shook. Gave several terrified peeps whenever there was a ripping scream from inside the bedroom. Eventually though, it became quiet. No more crying. No anything. The fluffy checked on her and found only a silent lump under the blanket.

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Mummah was like this for…for a long time. A few bright times passed and she wasn’t sure how her owner hadn’t gone fowebbah sweepies. The only indication that she hadn’t was that sometimes the lump moved on the bed to tell that she’d adjusted positions or was sneaking out of the bed.

Emily was definitely drinking something, but wasn’t eating. And the smell. The smell was one of the worst that Penelope had ever experienced. Their shared bedroom had become gamey, almost meaty scented. Old crazed sweat mixed with, and Penelope became so guilty that she was disgusted with it: Peepees. Her owner was obviously just using the bathroom on herself in there. She could smell it, it was plainly obvious. Mummahs and daddehs should use the potty properly. Even fluffies could do it. And that’s why she felt guilty: To be judging mummah like that. When she was sick.

The door was still open, too. Emily had never closed it and left it hang open. A few passerbys had curiously looked inside and a leaf had blown in from outside but other than that, there were no concerns about it.

It was a bad idea, but she had to go out there. Had to for mummah. If mummah wasn’t eating, she had to go espowin’ in order to find nummies. Mummah HAD to eat. She was already so skinny it looked scary to even a fluffy. Puffing out her cheeks and not trying to think of the punishment she’d received last time she had gone out, Penelope trotted out from the apartment and into the outside world.

Not being a feral, she didn’t even know the first place to look for nummies. The fluffy wasn’t hungry or thirsty, no. Her bowls seemed to magically fill whenever she went to sleep. Hmm. Skittering down the apartment complex sidewalk, she lifted her nose and followed the scent of nummies.

This led her to the apartment dumpsters which was crowded up with split open trashbags which were encircled by stray fluffies. Well, you weren’t supposed to have trashy nummies. That’s what mummah had said but this was an important situation where someone could actually go fowebbah sweepies. Marching up to the dumpster, she nosed around a bag that the others didn’t seem so interested in. Her arrival got the attention of someone else though.

A big green & brown stallion named Mudpie lifted his head up from the delicious meal of discarded tuna casserole and noticed a mare who he’d never seen before. She looked really clean, and really nice…wouldn’t you know that those were two qualities he highly treasured for mares he was going to put babbehs into?

Not that he was picky though.

Leaving the casserole and joining her at the trashbag, he nudged her with the tip of his nose.

“Hewwo pwetty mawe. Am Mudpie. Am goan gib yew bestest babbehs.” This caused Penelope to stiffen up with fear, shaking her head.

“Nuu-huu! Penewope nu am hab babbehs! Nu am awwowed! Weab Penewope awone!” Didn’t he know that she was on a super special mission to feed her mummah? And anyways, she couldn’t have babbehs anymore. Mummah had made her speciaw pwace huwties. It likely didn’t work as intended any longer.

Did Mudpie care about any of this? Not really. A stray with absolutely no morals or sense of direction in the world, he simply left her side and went behind her. His substantial weight smacked right down on top of her from above, and she felt her weggies give out as she sank to the ground.

“Nuu! STAHP! NU WAN BAD HUGGIES!” Drool plopped down on top of her head as the stallion drooled on her, suddenly shoved himself at her. Only to meet resistance. The area down there had been sewn largely shut and healed over. What had been could be once more with enough force, and he continued to shove forward. Screaming, the mare scrabbled at the blacktop beneath her to try and get away as he ripped her flesh open and forced his way in. It hurt so badly, there was no getting away, and none of the other fluffies were helping. They gave her a look, maybe some looked slightly concerned, but this wasn’t their problem.

The process lasted not that long but it felt like an eternity for Penelope. Left dripping with her own blood, back legs barely seeming to want to work, she sobbed on the ground. Still, nobody came over to give her huggies. Couldn’t they see she was hurting?

“Mummah, wub yew…pwease gib Penewope huggies…” She choked out, wanting some relief. Some kind of attention that was positive. To be told everything would be OK. Maybe Munstah Mummah would go away. Snatching up half of a hamburger from the collection of trash, she limped away from the ferals who were busy chattering away and playing games.

A long walk back to the apartment, trying to ignore the pain which ripped across her entire back half. None of that mattered. All that mattered was helping mummah. Trudging into the apartment with the old burger clutched between her mouth, it took a truly great amount of effort to wobble up the pet stairs that led up to the stinking bed.

Plopping the burger down on top of bed, she put a hoof out to shake the balled up blanket in front of her.

“Mummah? Penewope bwing yew nummies. Pwease num. Dun gu fowebba sweepies.”

There was no response. Why? There was nothing under the blanket. Smiling a bit even despite the pain, that was a good sign.

“Mummah! Yew feew beddah?” She asked, turning toward the hall in excitement. There wasn’t even time for her to register what was going on as something slammed into one of her back legs with such force to bend it in a completely wrong direction and send her flying from off the bed and into a nearby wall.

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“EEEEEE! SCREEEEE!” Penelope weakly flopped around on the ground, attempting to get up but finding herself unable. As soon as her three viable legs found a purchase on the floor, the slam came again with such an impact it caused her other hind leg to split in a different direction and send her tumbling along the floor.

“OWWIES! HUWTIES! HEWP FWUFFY!” There she was. Emily herself. Hair not done up in braids, instead it stuck out in all directions and was matted in places. A stinking cloud hung around her, and both eyes were narrowed into fierce little slits. In one hand was the very same meat tenderizer she’d clubbed the chicken breasts down with the other day.

“You think you’re so sneaky? Getting out of the house and having f-fresh buns delivered to your WHORE bakery behind my back?” Gripping the tenderizer so tightly that her knuckles turned white, Emily slammed it forward toward one of her fluffy’s front legs which were kicking around helplessly. More splintering pain, Penelope losing control of her bowels as she had to lay there and take the bludgeoning.

“NUU! MUMMAH! PENEWOPE HEWP YEW! AM GUD FWUFFY! PWEASE MUMMAH! NU WAN DIS!” Emily stared down to her supposed ‘good fluffy’ who was still sticky from the assault earlier. Likely story. With a hiss of breath, she took out her fluffy’s remaining good leg with one direct blow of the meat mallet. Weggies now splayed out in all different directions, feeling as if her body and spirit were about to give out, all Penelope could do was sob on the floor. Munstah Mummah. Munstah Mummah had won and there was nothing she could do about it. Hurling the hammer across the room with such force it embedded itself into a wall, Emily flung herself toward the dresser and ripped out a drawer. Dumped it’s contents onto the floor.

“SEE IF I CARE, B-BRAT! YOU DON’T LOVE ME? I’LL MAKE YOU!” Taking the scruff of Penelope’s mane up in one hand, she forced her body into the drawer and went to insert it into back with the others. Finding herself in a world of pain and darkness, Penelope screeched out against out.

“NU MUMMAH! NUUU! HEWP FWUFFY! NEE’ YEW! PWEASE! WUB! WUB!?”

There were no further sounds from within the room though. Stomping footsteps leading out told Penelope that she was alone for now. That didn’t stop her from screaming though. It was the only thing she could manage to do.

++++

Laying there in agony, even screaming began to hurt to so she stopped. Peeping and cheeping just like a babbeh was all she could do. Her weggies were ruined, she knew that. Bent and forced into the box, she couldn’t truly feel them. Only knew that they were in the greatest pain ever.

Why didn’t mummah love her? Why didn’t she see that all she’d done was try to help? She wasn’t trying to have babbehs. The meanie fluffy had done that to her. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t fair, and IT WASN’T HER FAULT!

Sitting in quiet misery, all she could do was wait for mummah. It would be hours until she finally came back, pulling the drawer open. A few things were in her hands: A strange looking contraption, a can of Happy Foal brand formula, and a bottle of pills.

“You brat. I loved you. This is how you repay me. Like everyone else! They would have put you down, but I saved you! You don’t care! But I care about you! Don’t you see that!?” Penelope whimpered, trembled with fear as mummah bent down and forced her mouth open. Gagged as a funnel was pushed past her teeth, the plastic tip nearly dragging into her throat.

“Well, you’re mine. All mine. Nobody else’s. Get that? MINE! MINE! MINE!” Pills thunked down against the plastic funnel, washed down as foal formula was poured down in great big glops from the canister in her hand. It tasted horrible. It was hard to imagine even a babbeh liking this. Sour, slightly off tasting. Too thick. Disgusting in every way. Penelope huffed, coughed, seemed as if she were about to throw up. Emily waggled an index finger.

“If you throw up, I’ll have to feed you through y-your bottom. So keep it down, brat!” Her ‘bottom’ meant her poopie place. Tears streaked down her face, Penelope managing just barely to keep the disgusting concoction down.

After the feeding was done, the drawer slammed shut as Penelope was slammed back into place.

That night it was hard to imagine, but she had even more pain. The wowstest peepees and poopies left her body. It felt as if both areas were actually on fire, the stinking fluids seeping out over her body. Staining her pretty fur no doubt. Stomach grumbling, it was like something in there was having a fight. Straining and pulling at her with fiery teeth.

“Mummah! HEWP! Fwuffy hab wowstest poopies! MUMMAH! NEE’ WITTABOX!” But no help came. Asking for help once more did nothing. Laying in that box of filth with her busted legs, all Penelope could do was peep and cheep.

++++

When light hit her eyes again, Penelope was almost blinded by the sight. Emily had dragged her out with a look of disgust, the contents that her fluffy was in sloshing around.

“This is what you get for being a no-good, rotten, wormy apple. It’s all your fault, Penelope. And it hurt me just as much as it hurt you to do.” Also, all of that Foal-B-Gone had cost a pretty penny. But what did her fluffy care? Brat. Slut. Skank.

Bringing the drawer to the tub, she’d dump the fluffy out onto the porcelain and get the detachable faucet down and began spraying her off with cold water. Penelope made pathetic whimpers against the tub, squeezing her eyes shut. It was so cold and caused her to shiver. There was no playing or fun. Just a cold reminder that Munstah Mummah was here to give her huwties forever.

Eventually all of the poopies and peepees would be rinsed off, Emily letting the hose go slack. “Now you can sit there to dry off. Because you clearly need a lot of time to think.”

Exiting the room and leaving her cold fluffy there in a sobbing puddle, the fluffy did her best not to think. Thinkies hurt right now, just like everything else.

++++

The severe stomach pain of the first night wasn’t repeated but the rinsing process was. Emily never afforded her fluffy a litterbox and instead kept her shoved away in the drawer all day, every day. Being forcefed, having bad poopies, crying in the filth and feeling as if her weggies were filled with sharp things. A process repeated each and every day.

One day, Emily didn’t feed her at the right time though. It happened at the same time every day, just like clockwork. Feeding, rinsed off, left to ruminate in the tub, shoved away into the darkness once more. A process repeated many times over by now.

An hour passed. Two. Not that Penelope had any frame of reference for time, only knowing that it was a long while. Eventually the drawer slowly slid open. There was Emily, eyes blotted with tears.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t continue living like this.” Hot tears dripping down onto her face, Penelope wondered what was going on. Lifted out of the poopies she’d been laying in, the fluffy was brought out to the bathroom. Not fed first. It was out of order. This scared her, greatly.

“Mummah? Pwease mummah. Nu. Nu mowe huwties. Am gud fwuffy. Nu mowe huwties! Stiww wub yew! Wub yew fowebbah!” Panicking, she thought anything could happen. Even after all she’d gone through, she didn’t want to go fowebbah sweepies. Life could still be good. Turning on the bathtub faucet and testing the heat with one finger, Emily began scrubbing her fluffy off.

“No, hun. No more hurties. I’m g-going to get some help.” A nervous smile followed this. “Try. I mean, this isn’t normal. None of this is normal.”

Mummah? Going to get some help? A bright smile flashed on Penelope’s face. The first time in a long while.

“Mummah am be hewped? Yis! Mummah nee’ wots ob wub! An’ huggies!”

Emily nodded a bit. “Hopefully. I hope. This is all my fault. I’m s-such a screwup. Will you still love me?” Hands trembling, the young woman thought she knew the answer. ‘No’. No matter what, she was going to go through with what she was doing anyways. A moment of clarity, that’s all she needed. Needed to act on it before it got carried away.

“Yis. Wub yew fowebbah. Fwuffy am mummah’s fwuffy!” That settled it then. Rubbing Penelope dry with a towel, she got brought into the living room. An absolutely enormous amount of food and jug-fed bowl of water waited along with a littertray.

“Promise?” Emily asked, and Penelope nodded. No matter how many huwties, she would.

++++

Emily said she’d be back in a long time. Penelope didn’t know how long that was, but this had been forever. A great pile of poopies stretched out behind her, and she’d nummed almost all the kibble and drank a great deal of the wawa.

So much time had passed that even FluffTV had become greatly repetitive. She’d watched so many reruns that it was possible for her to remember what would happen next, and that was a rare occurrence for a fluffy.

She’d wait forever and watch who knew how much FluffTV on repeat if it meant Emily got help though. Real help. Huggies to help her think pwace huwties.

A recurring nightmare though, one that happened with her weird sleep schedule throughout the days. That Munstah Mummah would knock the door open and stomp in. Her eyes would be glowing red like the munstahs that sometimes showed up on teebee and she’d have claws out ready to not only snatch her up, but mummah too.

All Penelope could do was sit there and wait. The answer was never clear but she hoped all she could hope with all of her little heart.

++++

It was one year later and Emily sat at the park with her (now) pillowed fluffy. Penelope was snugly placed on top of a nice plush blanket and cooed with delight as a bright red ball was pushed up to her.

She didn’t have weggies anymore. The vet said those were too bad and had to be ‘am-poo-ated’. The entire process had made her greatly distressed at first, but her owner had been there the entire time.

Even if she couldn’t run like all the other fluffies, Emily played games with her. Pushing a ball was possible with her nose, being tickled, giving huggies the best she could with her stumpies.

Emily said she was sorry every day for what she had done. Took meddysins every day. Meddysins helped her, it made her think-pwace better. Sure she’d cry sometimes, but she really was better. Cleaning the house every day, eating properly, going to bed at a proper time. Mummah said there were also people that helped her.

“Want your lunch now?” She asked the fluffy, Penelope giving a nod. Getting a dish of skettis out from her bag and twisting up a great deal of it on a plastic fork, she dutifully fed her fluffy who relished in the saucy, noodly goodness.

“Mummah?” She asked Emily, who looked away from the dish of skettis to the fluffy.

“Yes, sweetheart?” A smile. One that didn’t hide any crazy intent. This was just…mummah.

“Wub yew.” Was all she said, and she truly did. More than anything. No matter what huwties she’d given her, there was no way that she couldn’t.

Tugging the mare up and tumbling down to the picnic blanket, she snuggled up on her. Munstah Mummah was dead. Had been for a long time now. This was her real mummah and nobody else.

“I love you from the tip of your nose

to the brush of your tail

The first time we met

my heart set sail!“

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Chekhov’s Meat Mallet

Not the ending I expected, but an ending I really enjoyed. Enjoyed the whole story

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The Cluster B shit is so believable it sent me back to when i was dealing with a person like this

(I have several friends who live with it and are doing their best and then there was someone who used it as an excuse to be an abusive cunt)

The rage at the idea of abandonment is WILD

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I really like this ending bittersweet so it’s kinda good.

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I’m genuinely amazed that Penelope survived. Part of me thinks Emily should go through everything Penelope did, simply because mental illness isn’t an excuse for cruelty, but it’s not my place to judge.

Great story and great ending. Now to hope Emily stays on her medication.

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Fluffies are the epitome of ‘life aint fair’ and in that regard, Penelope got the closest she’ll ever receive to compensation, whether emotionally or physically. Losing your legs and living in filth for awhile aint so bad if it means you get a hugbox ending.

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I’m so glad Emily finally got the help she needed! Penelope is such a good fluffy for sticking by her despite going through so much torture :sparkling_heart:

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Emily and Penelope…they have my heart.

I was worried that the “hugbox” tag was a farse (i didnt see the -ending part of it. Oops.), and im so glad it wasnt.

I’m glad Emily got the help she needed.

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aw, thats sweet

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It’s such a weird area because the mentally ill person is usually in severe distress already, doesn’t justify what they do, but it’s a bit of a matter of “They’ve suffered and gotten better”, if you make them suffer after they figure their shit out then they’re getting punished for no reason imo.

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Yeah, but will somebody other than mama stitch that poor mare up? :rofl:

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Stuck With You (with Amanda Palmer) (youtube.com)

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Yeah, but at the same time, mental illness isn’t an excuse for cruelty. I’m pretty strict on this because I’ve spent most of my life surrounded by friends or peers with various mental illnesses, and the only ones that were assholes or who caused harm were the types who did it for fun, not because of illness. I’m absolutely biased on this point, mind.

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