Warm Welcomes and Cruel Goodbyes (Story Concept, Characters, and Illustration by: Gal-with-Pastels) (Written by: GreaverBlade)

Part 1: Dee Dee and Little Miracles

Saturdays were usually busy at Little Miracles. People were off work, and a fluffy adopted on Saturday has a Sunday to play with its new family before life starts to interfere again. But today was one of those rare slow Saturdays. Dee Dee didn’t mind. Running Little Miracles was tiring. She had founded the shelter only a little over 18 months prior. She’d finished her education at the local community college, with an Associate’s degree in business administration. Dee Dee didn’t really feel the need to continue with school. She had a dream and she was going to grab it. That being said, her dream could be absolutely exhausting.

Dee Dee Bixby, an attractive African American woman, 21 years old. Her passion was fluffies. Specifically, the unloved fluffies of the world. The “poopie fluffies”, the outcasts, the soon-mummahs with nowhere to go. Little Miracles was a mix of shelter, store, and sanctuary. Dee Dee took in the cast offs, worked hard to heal them physically and mentally, and help them find homes. Dee Dee learned early in life that being judged for your color or appearance was a harsh reality, and she was going to do everything she could to ensure fluffies didn’t have to suffer that sort of treatment. A little over a thousand fluffies had passed through her center in the relatively short time since it had opened. Every breeder, store, and normal shelter in the region was sending their cast offs to her, and she did her best to take in them all.

Little Miracles, despite its name, was a sizable facility, pretty much the whole of an otherwise defunct strip mall. Federal grant money had helped Dee Dee open up much larger than she’d initially planned. The government saw value in the work she did at helping control feral populations, and in driving the “adopt, don’t shop” movement. The primary care and residential facility for the fluffies was a former dentists office. The individual patient rooms, each about eight feet square, were sufficient to house a reasonably sized fluffy family of four, or about a dozen foals without parents. The front of the building was the reception area, with the desk where Dee Dee spent much of her time. Directly behind the front desk was the residence of Dee Dee’s personal fluffies; Paprika, Mustard, and their adopted canned-foal Cloudberry. To either side of the reception desk were the visiting rooms, where people looking to adopt fluffies from Little Miracles could spend time with them and ensure a good fit.

Continuing past the reception area were two parallel hallways, left and right from the entryway. These were lined with the now-safe-rooms for the fluffies. In the center was a large open room, previously the dental lab, now Little Miracles medical center. Here Dee Dee stored first aid supplies, medicines, painkiller, the pillowing device, and other medical necessities to running a fluffy shelter.

In the rear left back corner of the center was the milk farm. Dee Dee considered milkbags to be something of a cruel necessity to running a successful shelter. She treated her milkbags more like dairy cows than fountain machines. Each milkbag mare was pillowed, and put on a padded cot in an individual pen along a shelf. To their front was a feeding trough in easy reach. Their tails were cropped and another trough with constantly flowing water washed away their waste. They were cleaned regularly and kept on a diet of Milk Mare Kibble. The hormone and nutrient infused kibble was a cost-effective way of keeping the mares producing rich wholesome milk. The pads upon which the milkbags lay had cut outs for their teats to hang beneath them, and be connected to milking machines. TVs hung from the ceilings to keep the mares entertained. Though if they started acting up, the TVs would be turned off until they started behaving themselves again. A limbless fluffy laden with milk couldn’t do much, but anything that has the ability to speak can be obnoxious. And being obnoxious was the fastest way for everybody to lose TV privileges.

The strip Dee Dee had purchased with her grant money had multiple store fronts, and some of them were still being converted. One of them was operating as a fluffy supply shop. Running both a shelter and a store allowed her to order in higher volume than either on their own, so Dee Dee was able to get fantastic wholesale rates to keep her costs down.

Dee Dee was currently using the end rooms in the main center for office space, storage, and other necessities. But she was working on converting another store front in to a business office, and a second in to a warhouse. Little Miracles was still growing, and more and more staff would be needed. She was even considering putting in a real studio space to showcase her guests, and to offer professional fluffy photography services as another source of income for the center.

Little Miracles had quickly earned a reputation for having the very best of the “worst” fluffies. Dee Dee learned quickly that there were a lot of people out there that liked the unpopular colors. Outdoor adventurers like earth colored fluffies that could come with them on hikes or hunts or fishing trips, where their colors would blend in to the natural environment. It helped them to have a “wild” companion to keep them company. Dark green fluffies were popular with military enthusiasts. More than one dark green fluffy had left Little Miracles named “Genewaw” or “Sawgent”. Most of her buyers were simply people like her, who simply didn’t care about a fluffy’s color, and just wanted a friend. Somebody they could talk to, who needed them, and would love them unconditionally.

Part 2: Tapping at the Door

Dee Dee was idling reading a book behind the front desk of Little Miracles when she heard a tapping at the front door. She set her book down, opened the door, and immediately looked down. Humans would have just walked in. Only fluffies tapped to be let in.

“Hewwo nice wady! Soon-mummah heaw dis safe pwace fo’ fwuffies!”

Dee Dee smiled at the very pregnate mare on her doorstep. “This is a safe place, little friend! Do you need a place for your babies to be born?”

“Yus! Fwuffy hab no pwace fo’ babbehs. Nu nummies, nu toysies, nu spewshul-fwend to hewp fwuffy. Pwease nice wady, wet fwuffy stay!”

Dee Dee was not in the business of turning away pregnant mares. The last thing she wanted was for this one to give birth in the wild and have to watch her babies die. Or even worse, the innate hate in fluffies for “poopies” and “munstahs” take over, and the mother give “sowwy-hoofies” to the “bad babbehs”.

“Of course, miss, you can stay here. Let me take you in and help you get comfortable. Upsies!”

The chunky mare rocked back on to her hind legs, extended her forelegs and let Dee Dee lift her from the ground. “Yay! Gud upsies!”

Dee Dee cradled the mare in her arms and carried her back to the safe room, where her resident fluffies were playing.

Paprika, Mustard, and their adopted can-foal Cloudberry were playing with blocks in the safe room. “Hey you three, we have a new guest!”

The two parents and their child scurried over to the door to meet thier owner. “This new fluffy is a soon-mummah and she needs our help. Are you three ready to help her with her babies when they arrive?”

Paprika and Mustards eyes lit up at the prospect of new babies. Mustart had been fixed after his second littler with Paprika, and Cloudberry had joined the family when they wanted to have more babies. Cloudberry was the baby that was going to stay with them. They were happy their first two litters had gone to good homes, but they realized they wanted a family of their own. And any chance to help another family was a special treat for them.

“Papwika wub babbehs! Papwika wiww hewp soon-mummah!” “Mustawd wub babbehs, too! Mustawd nu can hab babbeh, but Mustawd wiww show ‘ou babbeh how be smawt an’ stwong!”

“Cwowdbewwy wiww pwaw wif babbehs! Cwowdbewwy wub nu fwends!”

Dee Dee gently set the pregnant mare down on the floor inside the safe room, and gave her a pat on the head. “Now, ma’am. There are a few rules around here for fluffies. Especially for soon-mummahs. First, always make good-poopies in the litterbox. Second, always eat the food you are given. There’s a lot of fluffies here, and we have to feed them all. The regular meal is kibble in milk. Third, when the babies arrive, you will take care of all of them. There’s no bested-babbeh, all babies are good babies. They all get milky, even if they are poopy or have wings and horns. Do you understand?”

“Fwuffy unna’stan nice wady! Fwuffy wiww wub all fwuffy babbehs!”

“That’s good to hear.” Dee Dee replied. “Now, we can’t just keep calling you ‘ma’am’ or ‘fluffy’ or ‘soon mummah’. We need to give you a name.”

“Fwuffy gets namsies?!” The mare was elated! She was going to get a name! She was going to be special!

“Yes, I think I’ll call you…”

Part 3: New Names, New Circumstances

“Georgia! You have lovely orangey-pink fluff and look like a peach. So, Georgia it is.”

“Geowjuh wub nu namsie! Wub nice wady!” The pregnant mare, now Georiga, was positively beaming.

“Well, Georia, why don’t you spend some time with Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudy. I’ll be back in a few hours with kibble for everybody.”

The four fluffies let out little cheers at the thought of more playtime and food. Dee Dee returned the the front counter. For a slow Saturday, this wasn’t bad at all.

Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudy returned to the stack of blocks they were playing with before Georigas arrive and plopped down on their rears on their rears. They had left an open space for Georgia to join them. The very pregnant mare waddled her way over, and decided to rest on her belly.

“Whewe Geowjuh come fwom?”, mustard asked. “Geowjuh gonna hab wots of babbehs! Di’ Geowjuh hab gud speciaw fwend?”

Georgia scowled at the question, but quickly shook it away and resumeed a neutral expression. “Geowjuh nu mowe hab hewd, nu mowe hab speshul fwend. Dey meanies to Geowjuh. Gib sowwy-poopies. Twy gib sowwy hoovsies. Geowjuh wun away, an’ wook fo’ nu famiwy.”

Paprika and Mustard looked horrified. Their upbringing could be politely called unpleasant, having both come from very bad parents.

“Papwika sowwy, Geowjuh. Papwika hab heawt huwties for Geowjuh.” “Fwuffies pway wif bwokies. Fowget abou’ heawt huwties.”, Mustart stated. He was determined that Georgia was going to be happy here.

The four fluffies played with the blocks for a good hour or so, before Paprika and Mustard decided it was time for a cuddle-nap. The two parents cuddled up on their warm fluffy bed, nuzzling and cooing to each other as they fell asleep.

Cloudberry looked at Georgia. “Mummah and daddeh need nappies. But Cwoudy wiww pway wif Geowjuh. Cwoudy am babbeh! Geowjuh weawn how pway wif babbehs!”

Georgia’s eyes went wide. “NU!”, she nearly screamed. “Nu… Geowjuh am… sweepy. Smew-- Cwoudy nice babbeh, bu’ Geowjuh gon take nappie.”

Georgia hoisted herself up on her stubby legs, her belly just above the floor, and waddled in to a corner. She turns a few circles before laying down, distinctly looking away from Cloudberry.

Cloudberry was confused. Georgia seems frighted of her. But Cloudberry was only a little baby; she wasn’t scary at all. Cloudberry decided to pay it no mind, and went to cuddle up with her parents.

A few hours later, Dee Dee gently knocked on the door frame to wake up the napping fluffies. “Kibble time, everybody!” She pulled a steel cart, laden with pet bowls full of kibble in milk. She put four bows down in the middle of the safe room. The fluffies scampered, or waddles in Georgia’s case and started to eat.

Georgia took a few mouthfuls, downing them, but with a frown after each swallow. Paprika looked at her, “Nummies nu good? Miwkie kibbew make stwong babbehs! Nu gud as sketties, but stiww nummies.” Georgia looked down at the bowl, her eyes narrowing. “Geowjuh nu vewy hungwy. Tummeh babbehs nu want mo’ nummies. Geowjuh wiww pway wif toysies.” With that, she waddled off to play with a ball.

“Geowjuh nu hungwy? Tummeh babbehs awways hungwy. Need nummies fo’ best miwkies.” Paprika whispered to her mate and daughter.

“Geowjuh get scawdies when Cwoudy wan’ teach 'bout pwaying wif babbehs.”, Cloudy quietly replied.

Mustard sat in silence, his brow furroed. “Mustawd keep see-pwaces on Geowjuh. Mustawd hab… suspwishuns.”

The next morning, Dee Dee completed her feeding rounds again. Mustard, Paprika, and Cloudy eagerly devoured their milky-kibble. Georgia unhurridly moseyed over and ate a few mouthfuls. She then rested on her belly, and pushed the bowl away. “Bad nummies. Nu good fo’ tummeh babbehs. Babbahs need sketties. Nu kibble, nu gwassies, nu veggies. Onwy sketties.”

Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudberry looked at each other, and then at Georgia. “Bu’ Geowjuh”, Paprika said, “Miwkie kibble gud fo’ tummeh babbehs. Gwow up big an’ stwong. Need fo’ make bested miwkies.”

Georgia snorted. “Miwkie kibbles taste wike poopies. Nu gud for Geowjuh tummeh babbehs. Geowjuh onwy wan’ sketties fo’ tummeh babbehs!” With that, she reached out her front hooves and flipped the milky-kibble bowl over. Milk and mushy bits went flying everywhere, the puddle spreading around it, and starting to soak in to Georgia’s orange-pink fluff.

“Geowjuh bein’ dummeh!”, Mustard shouted. “Deh Deh bwing gud nummies. Gib Geowjuh safe pwace. Why Geogjuh bein’ dummeh?”

Dee Dee heard Mustard’s raised voice and returned to the safe room. “Mustard, what has got you so upset?”, she asked. Then looking down, she saw a pouting Georgia on the floor. Her lower fluff damp, and her bowl of kibble scattered.

Dee Dee’s eyes narrowed, and she squatted down next to Georgia. “Miss Georgia, is there a problem with your meal?”

“Geowjuh nu wan’ miwkie kibbles. Yucky. Want sketties. Wan’ bested nummies fo’ bestest babbehs!”

Dee Dee scrunched her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. She turned to her staff-fluffies. “Do you three know what brought this on?”

“Nu mummah”, Paprika replied. “Fwuffies pway wif Geowjuh, den take nappies.”

Cloudberry chimed in “Geowjuh get scawdy when Cwoudy wan’ pway wif Geowjuh. Geowjuh gib biggest NU!”

“Mebbe Geowjuh hab wots of scawdies. Mustawd ask Geowjuh 'bout hewd. Geowjuh get angwies and saddies. Geowjuh say hewd give sowwy-poopies and sowwy-hoovsies.”

Dee Dee returned her gaze to Georgia. “Georgia, why did your herd give you sorry poopies?”

Georgia puffed her cheeks. “Dummeh hewd nu gib Geowjuh bestest nummies fo’ tummeh babbehs. Geowjuh teww hewd dat hewd am dummehs! Hewd twy make Geowjuh nummie gwassies. Nu wook for sketties for Geowjuh tummeh babbehs.”

Dee Dee scrunched her eyes again. Wonderful. An entitled heavily pregnant mare.

“Georgia, when you arrived, I gave you three very simple rules. One of them was that you don’t complain about the food.”

“Geowjuh nu cawe. Geowjuh wan’ sketties fo’ tummeh babbehs. Am soon mummah. Dummey Deh Deh gib Geowjuh sketties.”

Dee Dee’s eyebrows went up at that one. “Oh, I’m a dummy, am I? Well, that’s really bad news for you.” Dee Dee grabbed the towl from the food cart and sopped up all the milk. She flipped the food bowl back upright and then wrung the milk in to the bowl. She then scooped the kibble off the floor and deposited it back into the bowl as well.

“You see Georgia, I’m just too dummy to make sketties. All I know how to do is put kibble and milk in a bowl. So that’s all you are going to get.”

“Dummeh make sketties now!” Georgia shrieked.

Dee Dee grabbed Georgia by her scruff. “BAD UPSIES!”, she wailed.

Dee Dee held Georgia at eye level. “You are going to eat your kibble and milk, or you are going to starve. And if you starve, your tummy babies starve. And if your tummy babies starve, they go forever-sleepies, and you go from soon-mummah to never-mummah. Is that clear?”

Georgia shrunk back as much as she could in Dee Dee’s grip, and whimpered. “Geowjuh wiww nummie miwkie-kibbews.” she said meekly.

Dee Dee carefully placed Georgia back on the floord in front of the food bowl. She wanted to drop the little monster, but that put the babies at risk. Georgia might be awful, but that was no reason to punish her babies.

“After you are done eating, I’ll be taking you to a private room. Where you can… rest while we wait for the babies.” Dee Dee’s look made it clear that arguing this point was going to have consequences. Georgia simply nodded. Dee Dee carted Georgia to a separate safe room down the hallway from the one where the staff-fluffies lived.

Dee Dee sat on the floor with her fluffies. “I’m worried about that one when the foals arrived. Her shouting at Cloudy made me even more worried. And her attitude! When the babies come, I’m going to need the three of you to help me watch out of them and keep them safe in case Georgia mistreats any of them.”

“Yes, mummah!”, the three fluffies said together.

Part 4: Babbehs


Georgia was screaming in her safe room. It had been a few days since the kibble incident, and Georgia’s behavior was tolerable. She sulked, but ate in silence.

Dee Dee came rushing to the safe room. Carrying a tub of hot water, towels draped over her arm, and the three staff fluffies trotting behind her.

Dee Dee waited for the major bowel movement that usually proceeded birth. After Georgia finished emptying herself, Dee Dee carefully moved the mare away from her waste and pull on a pair of glove.

“Your babies are coming Georgia, it’s time to work hard for them.”

“Geowjuh spewshul pwace hurty! Babbehs, come out fastah!”

The first foal emerged from Georgia’s special place. Dee Dee caugh it, and gave it a quick wipe down with a wet towel. She laid a dry towel next to her and laid the newborn foal on it. She resumed her work at Georgia’s rear, helping ease each baby out, and giving it a quick clean. Georgia would give the babies licks to clean then, but the placental fluid could give babies a “bad smeww” and Dee Dee didn’t want the mare to reject any babies over it.

All told, Georgia delivered five babies; a bright blue female alicorn, a walnut gray-brown male earthie, a yellow female pegasus, a red female earthie, and a peach-colored male unicorn.

Dee Dee slid the towel with the newborn foals to Georgia’s front end so she could clean them. In the meantime, Dee Dee worked at cleaning up Georgia’s fecal spray.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dee Dee saw Mustard charge across the room towards Georgia. She watched as he raised his hoof and smack Georgia across the face.

"NU! BAD MUMMAH!”, Mustard shouted. “NU HUWT BABBEHS!”

Dee Dee scooted across the floor to see what was going on. Georgia was staring daggers at mustard. Georgia had only cleaned the peach-colored baby, the other four still covered in traces of afterbirth.

Dee Dee looked at Mustard. “What’s going on, buddy? What did she do?”

“Bad mummah twy gib bad hoovsies to babbehs! Twy gib fowebbah sweepies to wingy howny baby!”

Dee Dee glared at Georgia, her anger absolutely smoldering in her eyes. “What do you think you are doing?!”

“Geowjuh no wan’ bad babbehs! Nu wan’ poopie babbeh. Nu wan’ munstah babbeh! Giv fowebbah sweepies. Gib wub to bestest babbeh!”

“Georgia, I swear by all that is holy. When I took you in, I told you that you were to love and care for all of your babies. You will stop this, now, or I will throw you out the front door, and Paprika will become your babies’ mother!”

Georgia looked at Dee Dee, then to Paprika, and then to her babies. She settled down on her belly, and begrudgingly started to lick clean the mahagony foal. “Geowjuh gib wickie cwean to babbehs. Geowjuh wiww gib wub to babbehs.” She clearly didn’t like the idea, but at least made a show of taking care of the ‘poopie baby’. Dee Dee didn’t leave the room until Georgia finished cleaning all five babies, and provided them all with milk.

“That’s better. I will let you rest for the rest of the night. But if I come back tomorrow and you hurt any of the babies, you lose all of them. And if you have killed any of them, I will do the same to you.”

Georgia’s eyes bugged at that. She whimpered a little, before curling around all five babies in a small fluff pile at her teats.

Part 5: More Names, More Suspicions

Dee Dee returned the next day to see all five babies alive, and all five looked like they had been fed. She brought Georgia a large bowl of kibble-milk, this extra fortified. The last thing Dee Dee wanted to deal with was malnourished foals.

“Georgia, do you understand why all babies are good babies?”

Georgia looked away, and didn’t reply. She let the foals continue to suckle on her teats.

“All babies are good babies, because all babies can be good fluffies. These babies were just born. They can learn. They can make somebody happy. Colors and horns and wings don’t matter. You should love your babies. Your babies all love you! Take care of them, and they will always give you love and hugs.”

Georgia looked at Dee Dee, and then away again. She sighed to herself. Eventually the babies had their fill of milk, and Georgia ate her kibble in silence.

The next day the babies started chirping. Five chirpies at once make an impressive amount of noise. Dee Dee made sure to check in on them regularly to make sure all the chirps were happy chirps. Satisfied that they were being fed, and not being stepped on, Dee Dee went about her day.

After a week, the babies’ eyes were open, and they were able to scoot around a little. Another week, and they were talking, asking for “miwkies fwom mummah”.

Three weeks in, the babies were walking around and playing with each other. Dee Dee noticed that the peach baby was easily the biggest of the the five. The read earthie and the yellow pegasus looked average. The blue alicorn and the walnut earthie were notably smaller. Dee Dee knew that Georgia was feeding the babies. She’d been checking and watching. But she was still worried.

Every room had cameras installed to monitor both visiting rooms to make sure no potential adoptors were hurting the fluffies, and in the safe rooms to keep an eye on them. Dee Dee started checking the footage in Georgia’s room more regularly, as she had her suspicions for the difference sizes of the foals.

Dee Dee sat down with the excited babies. “I have good news! It’s time to give you all names!”

The foals, all huddled before her crossed legs, gasped. “Nice wady gib babbehs namsies?”, the blue alicorn asked. “Yes! Let’s get started.” Dee Dee gave the female blue alicorn gentle scratches behind her ears. “You’re first little lady. I’m going to call you Ciela.” The little alicorn clapped her hooves together. “Ciewa wub nu namsies!”

Next came the walnut earthie. “You are going to be called Timber. You are colored like a strong walnut tree, and I think you are going to be a strong fluffy.” “Fank ‘ou for namsies! Timbuw wiw get stwong fo’ mummah!”

Dee Dee picked up the pegasus. “I’m going to call you Nova. When you do little dancies and put your hooves and wings out, you look like a star burst.” Nova was so excited she couldn’t even speak.

The little read earthy looked up at Dee Dee, expectation written all over her face. “You are a sensible little fluffy. So, I want to give you a sensible name. I’m going to call you Beatrice.” “Fank ‘ou! Beatwice wiw twe be sensibwe fwuffy. Bu’ wha’ means senibew?”

Dee Dee chuckled at Beatrice. “Don’t worry, honey. You’ll understand when you are older.”

“Fwuffy tuwn nao!” The peach foal was giddy to get his name. Dee Dee swallowed, not really excited for this one. She looked down at the fluffy and finally decided. “Ok, your name will be Peach Cobbler but we’ll just go with Cobbler.” The unicorn was ecstactic. He not only had a name, he had two! “Cobbawa wub namsies! Babbeh get two namsies! Babbeh hab biggest heawt happies!”

Dee Dee rolled her eyes, and gave an awkward smile. “That’s great dear. Now you all play nice.”

A couple days later, Dee Dee returned to the safe room with a laptop under her arm. She smiled at Georgia and the babies. “Georgia, would you and your foals like to watch some special TV?”

The foals all started cheering. The peach baby ran up to Dee Dee. 'Bestest babbeh wub teebee!" Dee Dee’s smile tightened. She expected this, but it didn’t make her any less furious.

Dee Dee set the laptop down, and tapped the play button on the screen. The video started and Georgia and her foals were excited to see themselves on the screen. They watched as they played with blocks, and balls. And they watched as they went to feed. And they watched as Georgia gave the alicorn the littlest of milk to keep them alive, before shoving them away. They watched as Georgia told them “Miwkies am fo bestest babbeh. Munstah babbeh an’ poopie babbeh onwy hab wittwe miwkies su nu fowebbah sweepies. Udda babbehs hab miwkies, but bested babbeh hab mostest miwkies.”

By this point, Georgia was no longer watching the video. She was watching Dee Dee’s smile transform from tight and toothy to a feral snarl.

Dee Dee closed the laptop and set it behind her in the hallway. “Georgia, I thought we had come to an understanding.”

“Geowjuh gib miwkies! Babbehs aww get miwkies!” She was starting to look afraid. She knew she had disobeyed, and was making a futile effort to defend herself.

“Georgia, I told you there’s to be no best babies. There’s to be no preferential treatment. There’s to be no neglecting your other babies. And you didn’t listen. And now you are going to be punished.”

Dee Dee gathered the foals and carefully moved them to the side of the room. “Sit here, babies. Dee Dee needs to teach your mummah a lesson.”

Georgia looked from her foals to Dee Dee, and back. She couldn’t decide if she should run to them, or try to hide in a corner. Dee Dee reached around the door frame and grabbed her sorry-stick. Georgia finally made up her mind and ran to a corner to hide.

“Georgia, you have disrespected this place, you have disrespected me, and worst of all, you have shown contempt for your babies. This is your final warning.”

With the word ‘warning’, Dee Dee whipped the sorry stick on to Georgia’s flank. She let out a shrill “SCREEE!”. Her foals watched in terror and fascination and Dee Dee whipped Georgia on her sides, her rump, and her back. Dee Dee liked Fluffies. But she had no time for bitch mares. What she did have was a deft hand with a sorry stick. Dee Dee used a broad headed switch, as she wanted Georgia in a bruised-agony, not bleeding all over the safe room. Contusions and welts would be her reminders.

After a dozen lashes with the sorry stick, Dee Dee set it back outside the safe room. Georgia was weeping in the corner. “Hu hu hu… wowstest huwties. Babbehs hewp mummah! Hu hu hu…”

Dee Dee squatted down in front of the foals. “I need you to understand that your mummah was being a bad mummah. She was hurting you”, she said, pointing to the alicorn and the walnut earthie, “and that’s something I will not tolerate. I wanted you to see what happens to bad fluffies. I want you to learn from this.”

Dee Dee then carefully scooped up Timber and Ciela. “I’m sorry to the rest of you, but I can’t trust Georgia with these two. They will be staying with Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudberry from now on. I will do my best to make sure you have play time together, though.” Dee Dee considered taking Cobbler as well, but decided she didn’t want to overly punish Georgia, or make her behavior any worse.

The three foals left on the floor were staring up at her, tears in their eyes. They seemed to understand.

Dee Dee carried the two fluffy foals down the hall to the staff-fluffy safe room and sat down. Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudberry walked over to her.

“Mustawd huwd scweamies. Deh Deh hab teach Geowjuh a wesson?”

Dee Dee sighed. “Yes, Mustard, I did. I’m sorry you three had to hear it. Worse, I still don’t think these two can be around her. I don’t think it’s safe for them.” She held out the two small foals for the other fluffies to see. They had not met the family before, and they stared in amazement.

Paprika’s eyes lit up. “Deh Deh wan’ Papwika be mummah fo’ babbehs? Papwika gib babbehs wub an’ miwkies?”

“That’s right girl, you get to be their mummah now. Georgia is unfit. I know you will trea them right. I know all of you will treat them like family.”

Paprika was over the mooon. Though she couldn’t have babies any more with Mustard, she adored being a foster mummuh. She was a regular for fluffy weaning at Little Miracles, and she’d helped bring many abandoned foals into good health with her milk.

Mustard was beaming beside her. He was happy to have new babies to protect, he liked being a daddeh, even if he knew that the foals would eventually be adopted away. He was proud he could help raise strong babies that would find good homes.

Cloudberry was dancing on her hind legs. “Cwowdbewwy am big sistaw!”

With that settled, Dee Dee went to look in on Georgia and her other two foals. Georgia was still softly crying in the corner, obviously still in a lot of pain. Her remaining three foals were nuzzling up to her. “Nu cwy mummah! Nu hab saddies! Huggies wiww make huwties go away!” They proceeded to give her their biggest hugs. The ‘bestest’ baby was hugging her face, and crying along with her.

Dee Dee continued down the hall, checking the various safe rooms, and calming any fluffies frightened by Georgia’s screams. As she went about her duties, Dee Dee thought to herself, “Only a few weeks before the foals can be put up for adoption. Then this whole mess can end. I can toss Georgia out on her ass in the woods and she can find herself a feral herd to take her in.”

Part 6: Crimes

Nearly three weeks later, and the foals were all growing nicely. They were healthy, full of energy, and happy. Georgia’s ‘bestest’ was still the largest of her five children, but Dee Dee had been watching the videos and Georgia was giving the other two foals almost as much milk as the ‘bestest’. She decided it wasn’t worth the effort to correct further.

Nove, Beatice, and Cobbler had been regular visitors to Ciela, Timber, and their surrogate family. They would all play together, and the siblings clearly loved one another. Cobbler hand’t abandoned his ideas of being “bestest”, but even he enjoyed visiting his brother and sister. Whenever they were returned to their safe room, they would chatter with each other about how much fun they had, and about how big and strong Ciela and Timber were growing. “Odda mummah Papwika gib gud miwkies for bwudda 'an sistah!” Georgia would try to ignore their stories. But she couldn’t. And the resent grew inside her.

Cobbler was bored. Blockies just weren’t enough for him anymore. The ball had lost its shine. He really wanted to visit his brother and sister in the other room.

“Cobbawa am ekspwoin’ babbeh!” He started shoving the blocks, one at a time, across the safe room. He carefully stacked two blocks atop one another, right up against the low wall that blocked the way out of the safe room. He stacked another block in front of those, creating a rudimentry staircase. He made his way up to the top and looked down. He was much higher up than he had anticipated. “Ekspwoin’ babbeh am bwave!” He jumped down the nine full inches to the floor on the other side of the barrier. Being the best fed, Cobbler took the landing well. His overall fatness extending about as far down as his legs, both his belly and legs absorbed the shock.

Cobbler started trotting down the hall towards his sibling’ room. He stopped with he saw Dee Dee coming out, her back to him, but balancing plates on her hands to either side of her head.

“Fank ‘ou fo’ sketties Deh Deh! Ciewa wub sketties! Wub mummah Papwika! Wub daddeh Mustawd! Web Timbuw bwuddah, an’ wub Cwoudy sistah!”

Cobbler heard his sister’s words, and instantly perked up. They had sketties! “Cobbawa wan’ sketties! Bwuddah an’ sistah, and mummah am awso wan’ sketties!” Cobbler galloped back to his room and started tapping his hooves on the barrier. He could get out but couldn’t get in. His tiny shouts alerted his sisters still in the room.

Nova and Beatice walked to the edge. “Why bwuddah nu in sawge woom?”

“Cobbawa go’ splowin! Cobbawa find sketties!”

At that, Nova and Beatrice lost all curiocity what their brother was up to, and instead focused entirely on the potential for a delicious meal. Dee Dee had been kind to them, but they had never had sketties before. They just knew it was the best.

“Sistas need get mummah! Famiwy gu get sketties togewthew.” Beah and Nova ran to Georgia. “Mummah! Mummah! Sketties! Cobbawa find sketties!”

Georgia stood up, “Whewe bestest babbeh? Nu sees in woom?”

“Cobbawa go’ ‘splowin! Bruddah fin’ sketties! Come mummah!” Nova and Beatrice led Georgia to the block stack Cobbler had used to escape the safe room. Georgia knocked the top block down, and used the now convenient step to make her way over the barrier as well.

Nova and Beatirce watched their mother as she made her escape. “Sketties fo’ babbehs?!”, they asked in unison. “Nu babbehs." Georgia told them. "‘ou smaww babbehs, nu hab sketties. Gib tummeh huwties. Mummah hab sketties fo’ big best miwkies! Bestest babbeh am big babbeh. Bestest habe sketties. Smaww babbehs wiw hab bestest miwkies.”

The other two foals looked disappointed, but didn’t complain. Sketties was best, but bestest milkies was also good.

Georgial layed flat on the floor so her bestest could ride on her back. It was more weight than she would have liked, but bestest baby had to ride on mummah.

Georgia made her way down the hall to the safe room she’d first been brought to when she arrived at Little Miracles. The staff-fluffies had no wall to block them in. They were trusted, and were sometimes needed in a hurry to help calm other fluffies. They could go in and out as they pleased, but being good fluffies, they stayed put until they were called.

Georgia, the bestest Cobbler still on her back, walked in to the room, her eyes wide in anger.

The monster baby and the the poopie baby were nearly as big as her bestest baby, but not roly-poly. They were feeding from Paprika, but looked as though they would no longer need to very soon.

Georgia puffed her cheecks and stomped her hooves. The fluffies hadn’t noticed her come in yet, but they all stared at her as she stormed into their safe room.

“Whewe sketties? Geowjuah smeww sketties, buh nu see sketties." She then fixed her eyes on Paprika. "Wai poopie mawe gib miwkies to munstah babbeh an’ poopie babbeh! Bad babbehs onwy hab fowebbah sweepies!”

Mustard bristled at the insult to his mate. “Geowjah bad fwuffie. Geowjuh go ‘way. Nu wan’ Geowjah hewe. Nu sketties fo’ bad fwuffies!”

Paprika looked at Georgia in shock. “Aww babbehs am gud babbehs. Aww babbeh hab best miwkies! Papwika wub aww babbehs!”


Bestest stood up on her back “Cobbawa wan’ sketties. Gib bestest sketties nao!”

Georgia lifted Cobbler off her back, puffed her cheeks, and rushed at Paprika and the foals feeding from her. Mustard reacted instantly, putting himself between Georgia and his mate. She smashed into his side and they both tumbled over.

Cobbler was confused, but he followed his mother’s lead. He let out a tiny piercing “SCRRE!” and made his own charge at Cloudberry. He was nearly as big as she was, but this was mostly due to his gorging on milk, and he was a slow-moving peach-colored ball of fat. “FOWEBBAH SWEEPIES FO’ CWOUDY DUMMEH!” he screached as he slowly charged at her. Cloudberry stepped aside and gently pushed against Cobbler’s flank. He tipped over and rolled on to his back. His rotund body nearly spherical, he was unable to right himself. “Hewp mummah! Cobbawa am stuck!”

Georgia had her own problems. Mustard was bigger than her. Although her impact on his side had knocked the wind from him, he was up, facing her, and looking absolutely incensed.

“Dummeh Geowjuh twy huwt Mustawd famiwy! Hatechu! Mustawd give wostest hoofsies!” Mustard came at Georgia, and landed a hoof on top of her head. She was dazed and backed off, trying to shake away to dizzyness. Mustard was walking back and forth in front of her, slowly coming closer, and forcing her back from the terrified Paprika and the babies.

“The FUCK is going on in here?!” Dee Dee was standing in the doorway. She stared down at the fluffy carnage on the floor.

Paprika was sobbing. “Meanie Geowjuh twy huwt famiwy! Twy huwt wiwwle babbehs!”

Mustard was still glaring at Georgia. “Geowjuh twy gib Papwika sowwy hoofsies. Geowjuh say Papwika am poopie mummah.”

“Cwoudy fink Cobbawa twy huwt Cwoudy. Cwoudy stwong! Gib bestest sowwy hoofsies!”

Dee Dee looked down at the fat foal rolling on his back, unable to right himself. She looked at Georgia, bristling her fluff, hate in her eyes. She turned to Mustard. “Good work, Mustard. I’ll take care of it from here. You go help Paprika. Cloudy, I’m very proud of you, standing up for yourself.”

Dee Dee walked in to the room, and stood above Georgia. There was no fake smile this time. Dee Dee’s mouth was a tight line. She looked over her shouder to the family of fluffies huddled in the other side of the room. “I’m sorry about this, guys, but it needs to be done and I’ll clean it up.”

While Dee Dee was turned, Georgia tried to run to her bestest baby. Dee Dee was much faster. She grabbed Georgia by the scruff, and hugged her to her chest, her stumpy legs sticking out around Dee Dee’s arms, way from her captor. Then Dee Dee gave her a squeeze.

“OWWIE POOPIES!” Georgia wailed. Dee Dee wasn’t going to give this little bitch the opportunity to try sorry poopies on her. She was taking control now. A few good squeezes would solve the problem. Once Georgia seemed to be empty of shit and piss, Dee Dee held her at eye level. “I told you that was your last warning. Now you will pay the consequences. You and that little lump of fat you call your bestest baby.”

“Nu gib Geowjuh bad upsies! Nu huwt bestest babbeh!” Georgia was screaching in pain. Dee Dee gave her a swift slap across the face to shut her up. Georgia started sobbing. That was better.

Georgia was held in one hand by her scruff, Dee Dee picked up Cobbler from the floor with her other hand. She deposited both in to a sorry box in the hallway and carried them to the medical bay. She had things to prepare.

Part 7: And Punishments

Georgia couldn’t move. Her legs were splayed out to her sides and clamped firmly in place. “I imagine that’s not very comfortable. That’s sort of the idea.” Dee Dee spoke without looking at Georgia. “I welcomed you in, I had three very simple rules. I have cared for thousands of fluffies here. I take in the feral mares with babies. I take in the ‘poopies’ that shitty mothers like you cast away. I help them find homes. But sometimes, I fail. And I let a piece of garbage like you in.”

Dee Dee walked to another part of the room, and Georgia could see her bestest baby in front of her. He was in a sorry box, but one you could see through!

“Nu put Cobbawa in sowwy bawksie! Gib Geowjuh bestest babbeh!”, Georgia demanded. Dee Dee snorted and chuckled to herself.

“Georgia, I like fluffies. I really do. But I’m only human, with a human’s faults. And sometimes, a human’s cruelty.”

Dee Dee stood in front of Georgia and set a cup on some strange smelling goop next to her. She then reached behind Georgia, where she couldn’t see. Strapped flat, she couldn’t turn her head behind her.

Dee Dee had secured Georgia in the pillowing device. Effectively a swing-arm paper cutter with a much shaper blade, and a platform on rollers that could move side to side. “Now, Georgia, I want to warn you that this may sting a bit.” Dee Dee yanked the swing-arm blade down, and severed both of Georgia’s left legs in a single motion. She then scooped some of the goop out of the cup and smeared it on the wounds. “That will stop you bleading out, though you may still go in to shock.”


Cobbler had been transferred to a fish tank, normally used for the aquatic fluffies. This time, it was acting as a sorry box he could see through. Once Dee Dee stepped aside, the bestest baby saw the mutilation done to his mother and started screaming as well. “NU! MEANIE WADY GIB MUMMAH HUWTIES!” He ran to the transparent wall of his prison and started slamming his tiny hoofs on the glass.

Dee Dee slid the rack upon which Georgia was strapped to the left, and brough the cutter arm down again. More screaming. More goop on the wounds.

“I know that stuff stings, but it will keep you alive, and stop any infection. You’re a pillow now.”


Dee Dee looked at Georgia, held up a bio-waste bin, and dropped her leggies in, one at a time, directly in front of her face. “You will never hurt another fluffy again.”

Dee Dee slid a litter box behind Georgia, and then shoved a feeding tube in her mouth, roughly taping it in place. “I don’t want you to starve, but I’m not going to bother with you again until tomorrow. I need to give you time to scab over and prepare for what’s next."

Dee Dee walked over the sorry box containing the bestest baby and looked down at him. “So, you think you can hurt Cloudberry?”

“Dummeh wady am meanies to mummah!”

“I said”, Dee Dee replied, “YOU THINK YOU CAN HURT CLOUDBERRY AND NOT BE PUNISHED FOR IT?” She was bellowing now.

Cobbler scurried in to the further corner of the tank. He was absolutely terrified and had begun to cry. “Nu wan’ huwt Cwowdy. Cobbawa onwy wan’ hewp mummah! Nu huwn Cobbawa… hu hu huh… nu huwn mummah…”

“Well, I can’t promise not to hurt you. Or her. In fact, I can pretty much promise the opposite. But I do promise to give you milkies, so let’s do that first.”

She grabbed the peach foal, gave him enough of a squeeze to force the feces out of him and in to the same bio-waste bin containing his mother’s legs. She then put an overturned bowl in the tank, about an inch tall, and set Cobbler atop it. He was too terrified to move. Dee Dee then opened a gallon of store milk, and started pouring it in to the tank. Eventually, the milk was nearly as high as the now top of the overturned bowl. “There. All the milk you could ever want. Be careful when you take a drink. If you fall in, you drown.” Cobbler continued crying to himself.

Dee Dee returned the next day, carrying a bag of items under one arm. She pulled them out and set them next to Georgia. A mirror, a plastic bottle, some towels.

“Georgia, I made a mistake. I called you a pretty fluffy. I was very wrong. You are a bad, ugly fluffy. You are bad on the inside. I’m going to make you just as ugly on the outside.”

Dee Dee opened the plastic bottle, and the caustic smell made Georgia’s eyes water and her nose hurt. Dee Dee tied a bandana around her mouth and nose, and squeezed some of the gel from the plastic bottle onto one of the towels. She then started giving Georgia a vigourous rub.

At first the rubbing was nice. It felt like she was being petted all over. But then she started to feel burning. Her skin was burning. The pain was getting worse and worse. She started screaming, the feeding tube forced in her mouth muffling her cries.

Dee Dee pulled away the towel, and showed Georgia it was covered in gel and peach colored fluff. “You see Georgia, you don’t deserve this pretty fluff. So, I’m going to take it away.” Dee Dee applied more gel to another towel. More burning, more fluff came away. Finally, Dee Dee held up the mirror and let Georgia see her chemical burned, nearly fluffless body. Tear streaked down her face, both from the pain where her leggies used to be, the burns all over her body, and losing all her fluff. “That particular pain is punishment for trying to hurt Paprika and the babbies.”

Dee Dee looked down into the fish tank. “How’re you doing in there, fucker? Enjoying the endless milk?”

Cobbler looked up at Dee Dee in horror. She saw he had laid down to avoid sliding in to the sea of milk around him. He was sitting in a puddle of his own urine, caught by the small lip on the bottom of the bowl. He’d clearly been drinking, but apparently had not gorged himself.

“Right, that’s all for today.” Dee Dee went back upstairs and left the fluffies to their suffering. Once the burning stopped on Georgia’s now-bare hide, she felt the cold of the sterile room, and cried all the more.

Dee Dee returned the next day. “Okay, we’re going to wrap this up today. Dee Dee scooped Cobbler out of the fish tank, and set him down directly in front of Georgia. She pinned him in place with a strip of medical tape, fixing him to the steel table.

Dee Dee went to a wall and grabbed a blak box. She brough it to the table with the bound fluffies and opened it. She pulled out a black device with two metal prongs on the end.

“Georgia, this is for my own satisfaction and the disrepect you gave me.” Dee Dee shoved the stun gun in to the mare’s flank and squeezed the activator. The shock and pain ripped through Georgia, and she screeched through her feeding tube.

Once she had stopped screaming, Dee Dee held the stun gun to the back of Cobbler’s neck. Georgia looked in abolute horror at what was about to happen to her baby.

“Georgia, it’s time to say goodbye to your bestest baby. You won’t be seeing him again.” Dee Dee pressed the stun gun firmly behind Cobbler’s head and squeezed the activated. Cobbler twitched and scream, and when Dee Dee removed the stun gun, he was still, faint trails of smoke rising from where the votage had burned his fluff.

Dee Dee peeled the tape from Cobbler and the table, and unceremoniously deposited his body in to the cardboard sorry box that had first carried them in to this hell.

Georgia simply passed out at the sight of her bestest baby expring in front of her. Dee Dee slapped her awake again, ripped the tape off her face, and pulled the feeding tube from Georgia’s mouth. “OK, Georgia. Go ahead. Say what I want to hear.”

"Georgia was weeping, coughing, and gagging all at once. Eventually she was able to catch her breath, and settled on quiet sobbing.

“Well? What do you have to say?”

“Wan’ die.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“Wan die’. Wan die’. Wan die’.”

“Georgia I’m really sorry to disappoint you. But no. You don’t get to die. Not yet. You see I have a lot of fluffies to feed. You are going to help me do that for a while.”

Georgia didn’t even react. She just kept saying the same thing, over and over. “Wan die’. Wan die’. Wan’ die’.”

Dee Dee unstrapped Georgia from the pillowing device, and carried her to the milk room. In a few minutes time, she was in place on her pad, the milk machine attached to her teats. She was still whispering to herself at the machine started pumping.

Part 8: Hello Goodbye

The remaining two foals, Nova and Beatrice, were raised by Paprika for the next week along side their siblings Timber and Ciela. By the end of the week, they were weaned from the milk and could eat milkie-kibble on their own.

Paprika, Mustard, and Cloudy were sad that they had to leave the family, but they knew they were bound for good homes and that there would be more fluffies who needed their help. The foals only asked about Georgia once. “She was a bad fluffy. She had to leave.” “Whewe bwuddah Cobbawa?”, the foals wanted to know. Dee Dee sighed. It was time for this. It needed to be done before they were adopted.

Dee Dee left the roon, then returned shortly carrying a cardboard box. She set it down and lifted a notably thinner cobbler out of the box. “Bwudda am skinny!”, Ciela exclaimed. “Nice wady, who dese fwuffies?”, Cobbler asked Dee Dee.

Dee Dee looked down at the peach fluffy foal. “These are your brothers and sisters. You forgot about them when you got hurt. But now you can meet them all over again.” Cobblers four sibblings ran to him and gave him a hug. It had been more than a week since they’d seen him last.

Dee Dee was glad the reset had worked on him. He was still young enough that it should have been fine, but you never knew. Cobbler wasn’t a monster; he was just a moron loyal to a bitch. The reset fixed that part, and a week of hand weaning off milk along with vigorous exercise had turned him in to a much healthier fluffy.

Within a month all five foals had been adopted to different homes.

Ciela went to a wealthy family, her sale price helping fun Little Miracles. The little girl who took her home was over the moon. The little girl’s father was overjoyed to get his dauther an alicorn at below market price.

Timber went to an avid hiker. The hiker wanted a fluffy who could blend in to nature and not scare away wildlife. He also wanted a companion who would always ask questions about the outdoor world he loved so much.

Nova was adopted by a retired airline pilot. Though he no longer flew, he was happy to share his home with a little friend who was so excited about the sky. She loved to watch him play flight simulators on his computer and would make the take-off noises every time.

Beatrice was adopted by a young businesswoman who wanted a companion at home. Bea did end up a sensible fluffy. She understood her new mummah had to go to work so she could buy sketties for Beatrice. She always gave Beatrice big huggies when she came home, and Beatrice always listened attentively when her mummah vented about her work day. She didn’t understand any of it, but understood it made her mummah happy to talk to her.

Cobbler was adopted by a family who loved his peach color and his friendly personality. The family never understood his one weird behavior, though Cobbler would always refuse to drink milk from a bowl. “Nu miwkies for Cobbawa. Wub wawas an’ kibbews!” He would always remember his siblings; he loved them very much. He would never remember his horrible mother, who had very nearly been the death of him with her actions. He would never remember the trauma of their punishment, but the scar was there. The scar made sure he was always a good, friendly fluffy.

This is an updated, canon version of the story of Dee Dee and the mummah-mare Georgia. This should be considered the cannon version of the story within the G-W-P-Verse. While the original version was fun, it was ultimately not an appropriate fit for the overall personality of the characters and setting. Special thanks to SqueakyFriend and the community for some excellent feedback.

The original can be found here:


As always, please revel in my shame and point out any grammar or spelling mistakes.

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this is so cute :3

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This story has some really weird racial undertones to it… Other than that, I like it. I thought the milk ocean torture was pretty funny, lol.

In what way? I’m honestly blind to it, and would like to hear your interpretation. Not my intention but if it’s coming through, it’s something I’d like to improve within the story.


So, I’m going to first touch on the part that says “Dee Dee learned early in life that being judged for your color or appearance was a harsh reality”, because it’s a major part of her character and it works really well to set this up. This actually has nothing to do with the racism comment, but it’s worth going into anyway.

My main suggestion would have been to make her an older lady, maybe one who experienced the 1960s and 1970s. That would lend more legitimacy to this statement of her having encountered racism in her everyday life, and would make it more impactful since it would obliquely imply she probably lived through some very intense stuff.

Also, it would account for her being so in control of the situation despite being a hugboxer–she’s had decades and decades of human experience to become calm and collected.

The actual things I had noticed were pretty insignificant, and I’m not suggesting you change them at all. I’ve been watching too many shitty Netflix films featuring peachy-pink beasts with Karen haircuts as antagonists. Just… ignore my rambling. I’ve probably taken too much speed in my sleep or something. Sometimes people repeat ideas they’ve picked up without realizing it.

Like I said, I enjoyed the milk torture idea and I also enjoyed Dee Dee as a character overall. I think she could have been better, but this site is about the fluffies, not the people.

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Dude you took too much speed. like how did you come up with this at all. Dee dee is supposed to be twenty one. and this being in a sorta modern day setting , where some feral mothers usually try to give forever sleepies to babies with bad colors and alicorns. some even having a bestest babbeh , which they prioritize first before they’re other foals.

Hell it may not be shown here but basically Georgia was once a domestic fluffy , who decided to run away from home after her owner told her it wasn’t the right time to have babies, Joining a herd and soon being kicked out since she was demanding skettis for her tummeh baby’s and good food.

Dee Dee takes in foals that are abandoned by they’re mothers so they don’t die .



Like I said, I’m probably seeing things that aren’t there. I do think that my advice regarding Dee Dee’s age is pretty solid, but I’ve never said you have to change anything. This was just a suggestion and I never presented it otherwise.

I’m not trying to start an argument or criticize you. You didn’t do anything wrong. Please don’t feel like you have to defend yourself.


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Anyway, overall I really liked this, and I hope the actual author understands I was just curious about some stuff he/she put in. That’s literally it. I still think Dee Dee would have worked better as an elderly woman. She just comes off as one of those little old southern African-American ladies, the ones who wear the whole dress and hat and gloves to church and will either bake you a pie or beat you half to death with their enormous handbag depending on whether you’re polite to them.

well deedee is actually my character tbh

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Again, I’m just stating what I thought of the story. I’ve made some suggestions and pointed out some things that I’ve noticed. And I’ve done my best to be polite and not come off like I’m demanding changes to someone else’s work.

It was just some feedback. @_@

oh sorry …

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can’t we all just get along

Honestly? I like this fate faaaar more for Cobbler, his bitch of a mom will have to live with that memory replaying over and over and over again until she finally croaks. It’s just… chef’s kiss


@ThatsWhy I believe the comment was meant to address the separate role of story author and character designer.

@Gal-with-pastels I’m not taking any offense at the interpretation. It wasn’t our intention with the story and I have addressed that via PM to ThatsWhy.

We can all get along. I think we’re just getting mixed signals due to the text based communication, and different writing styles in comments.

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I admit, as a fan of bestest baby abuse, I kind of preferred the gorier, more painful ending for Cobbler/ Little Fat Fuck. But this one does seem to fit the tone more of a mostly hugbox character who understands that smarties, bitchy mares, and spoiled foals exist and need to be dealt with or else good fluffies will suffer. Dee Dee gave Georgia plenty of opportunities to learn to dial down the attitude and Georgia sailed far past all of them. And in the end, it was Georgia’s own fault Cobbler was a brat.

And the original story is staying up. If you need some explodey-foal, it’s still there.

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Greaver cleared some stuff up with me in DMs. I did not know this was a pre-existing character and thought Dee Dee was specifically created for this story. I can now understand how it might seem weird that I would be saying you should change your OC’s age, now that I have this information.

My apologies.

glad things came to an understanding

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