#my recovery story

[thebasedsaint7]

My experience, strength, & hope

Growing up was fairly normal for me, I don’t have that tragic childhood that ignited my addiction at an early age or anything like that. I honestly think I was born this way, but the drugs didn’t come into play until my late teens. It started with food, and then boys, and so on and so forth.  

My family had its share of troubles, but we also had a ton of fun together. I grew up camping & going on little vacations during the summer. I had friends over all the time & had sleep overs at their houses. I was voted class clown for our senior personalities. I can say I have many memories that I cherish, and some that haunt me. It’s a good mix of both. But I think that pretty much applies to everyone.  

As a kid, I did have my fair share of stressors. I was bullied consistently from the time I started kindergarten until high school. I was also molested as a child by a neighbor kid who was older than my brother & I. The bullying started to slow down when I lost a bunch of weight by my junior year, I had become addicted to working out. I joined the track & cross country team even though I was slower than a turtle. I just liked the way running made me feel afterward.  

The first drug I ever came to enjoy was valium. There was a lot of fighting & things going on at home during high school, and there was one night things got physical. After that I started having a lot of trouble sleeping and having more anxiety than usual. So around 15 years old I was introduced to valium by a family member. At 16 I smoked weed for the first time but wasn’t getting high regularly until I was about 17. By 17 I was stealing the valium from said family member & getting drunk every weekend with a group of guy friends, and I would usually bring a girl friend along with me.  

I started blacking out and getting ridiculously drunk every time I drank, so they slowly stopped hanging out with me because I couldn’t handle my alcohol. The summer after senior year my parents separated for about 6 months, and I didn’t hang out with many people that summer. I just worked. Our school lost one of our classmates to a car accident my senior year, and this caused a good friend of mine to distance herself from me for awhile, as she couldn’t help me with my problems and deal with her grief at the same time.  

That fall she messaged me and wanted to start hanging out again. We’re going to call her A. We started hanging out all the time, at least 2-3 times a week. She reintroduced me to benzos, and I fell in love with xanax. I started seeking it from doctors, and managed to get a small script for .25’s from my family doctor. After he left his practice, I was referred to a psychiatrist. There I managed to get a prescription for .5mg klonopin, 2x daily. Needless to say they were abused, and I continued to look for more pills on the street. Other drugs started coming into the picture along with more alcohol. LSD, mdma, eventually painkillers, cocaine, and eventually meth later down the road.  

At one point, A and I were hanging out almost every day. We developed a codependent friendship.  We needed each other to boost each others’ egos, to trade and get drugs from, and to cosign each others’ bullshit. Whatever connection we had at one point was replaced by our love for drugs & partying.  

21-22 began the height of my addiction. I was drinking almost every night, and committing unspeakable acts while under the influence. Every one of my friends started to notice and slowly slip away, and they continued to get replaced by even worse friends. I was slipping into a dark place and to be honest, I enjoyed it at the time. It’s like I wanted to see how far I could go, how far I could push it until the inevitable happened. Death. I used to always say I would die by the time I was 27, my future looked bleak.  

Around the age of 22 I met somebody that we’ll refer to as C. We hit it off as friends and he quickly became my dealer. After a couple months, I felt like I kind of loved the guy, and he knew it. He started saying how he wanted to get clean, and went cold turkey off of xanax. He never actually totally quit. But, it inspired me to wanna get clean too. I believe he knew this as well, and that it was his goal. He knew how bad I was getting. So I started weaning myself off of klonopin, and stopped buying xanax on the street. I didn’t realize you were supposed to taper off slowly, that it can take over a year and some replacement medication to safely get off of benzos. I didn’t tell my doctor what I was doing because I wanted to still get the prescription so I could sell it. And then the horror began..  

After maybe two months of weaning myself off a 5(?) year bender, I went into withdrawal. I didn’t sleep for almost two weeks, and my body started shutting down. I had hallucinations, irritability, restlessness, depressive episodes, decreased appetite, you name it. The one day it was so bad & my mom didn’t know what to do, so she called for an ambulance. Not only was an ambulance sent, but a couple of police came too. One of them I knew from highschool. Something about seeing a familiar face and his calm demeanor talked some sense into me and I agreed to go to the hospital. I can forever thank him for coming that day, although it’s a bit embarassing. But I'm sure that wasn’t the only time he’s seen something like that.  I just never saw that scenario coming.  

That was my first detox. I relapsed time after time again. I wanted to get clean but I was always doing it for the wrong reasons. I wanted a different job, I wanted this guy to like me, basically any reason except for actually doing it for myself. It wasn’t until 2022 that I realized I was very lucky to have made it past 27, and I was going on 30. I knew if I carried my old habits into my 30s I was going to seriously hate myself for it. So in april of 2022 I made the decision to put the dope down once again.  

This only lasted maybe a little over a month. My jeep broke down, and I got insanely bored being at home with nothing to do. So I started smoking weed again. That was the only thing I did for awhile, and then the boredom continued. At the end of 2021 and beginning of 2022 I had been on a cocaine binge, and I was starting to miss it. So I ended up reconnecting with my old friend J. I asked her if she had any one night in august, and she said no but she had something a little stronger. All I could think was, oh boy. Here we go..

I tried meth one time when I was about 26, didn’t really care for it. But something about it the second time around really did something for me. It reminded me of adderall x20. Needless to say I couldn’t sleep that night, and I had stuff to do the next day. So I came back to her house the next morning to get some more. Eventually I found myself needing some kind of speed all the time. If I didn’t have meth, I had adderall. If I didn’t have adderall or meth, I had cocaine. Then I needed something to kind of level me out, so you’ll never guess what I got into next. Yep, you guessed it, xanax. It was a horrible combination and sent my mental health down the gutter. What happened next sent it even further down the drain.  

One night my friend B invited me over to drink with her and her new boyfriend and his brother. Everything was cool at first, and then when me & JJ (the brother) were alone outside for a minute, he decides to go in for a kiss. Worst kisser in the world first of all. And second of all I told him I was talking to somebody at the time and didn’t wanna go any further. He did not care. Especially after I made the mistake of selling him a xanax bar.  

I knew I was too drunk to leave, and if I stayed he was gonna wanna sleep with me. I felt backed into a corner. So he talked me into staying, and said we didn’t have to do anything. But, naturally, when we went back to his room, he ripped my clothes off and I kept telling him no and that I wanted to stop. At one point when he was on top of me I tried to push him off by his shoulders and he locked himself in place. I felt disgusting. I impatiently waited for it to be light enough outside & for me to be sober enough to drive home, and when I did I realized my clothes had been soaked by his beer. So I wore his clothes that didn’t even fit me home, and immediately hopped in the shower to wash off last nights filth, completely forgetting that rape kits existed. I wasn’t going to say anything about it at first but then I decided you know what, fuck it. But none of my friends cared or believed me. I tried to file a police report but not much came of it seeing as though I couldn’t go get a rape kit done.  

So JJ’s now mad at me for opening my mouth about that, and then J decides she’s gonna try to rip me off on this pair of boots that she got for free. They were worth 25$ and she was trying to charge me 40 at first and then 50. I was already upset and not in a good state of mind from the drugs so I got pissed at her. I put a bunch of random chemicals in the boots and threw them in her ex’s driveway where she was moving out of at the time while it was raining.  

Then come to find out B was talking shit about me at the party we had at K’s house the weekend before. She was telling everybody that I was doing meth, none of anyones business. I started losing it at this point. I lost my job, I was raped, there was drama, I got sick right before we were leaving for florida for the week of thanksgiving. I had been talking about the trip for weeks, so my friends knew when we were going to be gone.  

So the day after thanksgiving, we get a phone call from my sister saying our house had been ransacked. A ton of my parents’ property was missing and my jeep was gone from the garage. This was when I officially hit rock bottom. I knew something needed to change, and my mom suggested I look into rehab.

A few days later we got a call saying my jeep was found behind walmart, but the catalytic converter was missing. So considering we couldn’t afford to get it fixed and make the payments while I was in rehab, we had to let it get repoed. The cherry on top of it all.  

My parents didn’t have cameras or a security system at the time (you can bet they do now), so it was basically our word against theirs. However, there was an empty bottle of budweiser left in my jeep on the driver side door that wasn’t mine. They sent it to the lab for dna, and it came back with J’s dna on it. I could have told you she was involved. They’re still working on gathering enough evidence to indict her on the charge though. Since then she’s caught another burglary and breaking and entering charge, on top of multiple felonies and misdemeanors, and I honestly hope the judge throws the book at her.  A bunch of petty drama does not justify breaking into my childhood home and robbing my parents and I blind. But in hindsight, this was the beginning of my journey for me. The start of an awakening.  

I prayed for years for God to take my addiction from me, but I never really put in the effort. I was ready to make the change this time. So I found a rehab about an hour away from home, and stayed for 2 ½ months. After I was discharged I lived with my sponsor for a few days, and then got a call that there was a room available at a sober living facility nearby, still about an hour away from home. I was ecstatic. I have been getting all the help I need, from counseling and group therapy to figuring out a job and budget, and getting help with getting some things on my record expunged/reduced. I couldn’t be more thankful for the staff at the rehab I stayed at and where I am now, and for all the friends I've made along the way.  

I’ve changed and grown so much in such a short period of time, it’s amazing. All I had to do was take those steps, and then the blessings just kept falling in my lap. I am so grateful for everyday that I wake up and for each new opportunity that arises, so grateful my parents have been so supportive along with most of my extended family. There are those that have lost faith in me and honestly it does hurt, but I don’t respond to the hurt the way I used to. I didn’t realize how much the drugs had stunted my emotional maturity. Looking at the difference of who I was 4 months ago to now is enough to keep me going, because it’s only going to keep getting better.  

God is replacing all the things that the enemy stole from me. It brings me to tears.  

There was one morning, about a year or so ago when I was praying to get better & not knowing where I stood with God because of my addiction, when I was waking up, still half asleep, and I heard a soft voice coming from within me. I heard something in my conscience say, “you are mine, your name is Testimony. You are MINE, your name is Testimony. YOU ARE MINE, your name is TESTIMONY.” I woke up and stared blankly out at the sun beaming in through my window. Perplexed. Exactly 7 days later, my uncle who baptized me when I was 9 sent me a bracelet with a Bible verse on it from the book of Isaiah, saying “i have called you by name, you are mine.” and that’s when I knew that what I heard that morning wasn’t just me, I wasn’t crazy.  

It’s all coming to fruition, His promises and words spoken to me. It’s unbelievable. And all I had to do was start doing the next right thing. I had the key to my cure this entire time, I just had to unlock the door.  

[lovelydrusilla]

Feel Good (2020-2021). Created by Mae Martin.

[enden-agolor]

i have nothing else to offer but this little doodle page 😔 i don't have much time to draw as of recently so i hope this pleases the gay minecraft man audience

[toothspurs]

some cas pics from the drafts

[hoaxghost]

Is your demon oc Ariadne an assistant/apprentice to Stolforns?

Astute observation! Didn't think people woulda given thought to Ariadne since I don't talk bout her much.

She was part of a shared universe I had with an old friend that featured a lot of my demon ocs + Tiff. She was actually Stolforn's daughter created through a dark magic spell where a doll is imbued with life. He wasn't really the best dad in the world alas... but due to File Recovery becoming it's own separate thing, Ariadne's origin just didn't fit with anything anymore so she was kinda cut.

I can still see her being an assistant to Stolforns but she's no longer his canonical daughter.

[whumpsoda]

WSFSP - M is for Memory

A third piece for this month’s event Alphabet of Whump by @alphabetofwhump! I really really like this one >:3

Masterlist

cw: memory loss/amnesia, nudity mention (non sexual), pet whumpee, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpee, past abuse, recovering whumpee

——————

Mutt whined, a croaking sound that churned in his gut. The rain was only getting harder, faster, stinging against the wood and seeping in through the cracks, icy droplets plopping across his reddened skin.

Every inch of him was cold to the touch, with not a single luxury of clothing to provide even the smallest of warmth. The grass below him was pooling with mud, sticky and tainting him as he was balled up in a cage much too tight.

He couldn’t remember exactly what he did to deserve it - the cold and the fear was getting to his head and jumbling his brain all up - but no matter how freezing he was, Mutt was still sure he did indeed deserve it. Even if his leg were not chained and bolted to the wood, he would not have made the attempt to escape his punishment.

Stupid mutts who can’t seem to follow simple directions get the dog house. I thought you would’ve learned that by now, but it seems you’re just too dumb.

Say it, Mutt. Say it until you’ve gotten it permanently burned into your thick skull.

“S- st- stupid…,” his teeth chattered faster than his mouth could handle, tripping around his words and turning them to mush, “m- mutts get- t- t the dog houssse.” The last bit was left slurred and slushy, melting around his tongue. “Stuu- pid-,”

Interrupted by a crashing scream of the sky a wail of his own spilled out, aching in his chill throat. His knees dipped further into his chest, spine tapping the ceiling of his enclosure. It seemed even the outside was eager to discipline him.

Another flash of lightning, cracking close. Fat globs of tears mixed in with the rain, drooling down his cheeks.

Waking up, everything was a blur of darkness. Something flashed, just a swift flicker of light, as his eyesight worked desperately to adjust. Heavy breathing in his ears was found to be coming from his own lungs, quick with disorientation and panic.

It all died down to near silence once the still, blue room settled into sight, save for the creak of the walls and the continuous tapping on the roof. The dresser, the closet, the window, the bunk bed, his stuffed animal, all of it was there. So was Wesley, the only indication of his presence above him being the smallest shift in his sleeping position.

Even through his drowsy haze, the mere fact that Wesley was still nicely sound asleep allowed an easiness to wash through him.

Whatever woke Mutt, - that wasn’t right, but stupid mutts get the dog house - a booming roar rolling over clouds and through the sky, was loud and reverberating in his ears. The noise was terrifyingly familiar, and as soon as he caught a glimpse of the rain soaked window, he was sure what it was.

Making his way down the green soaked hallway, through the darkness he stumbled over his own feet and the blanket draped around his shoulders. Mutt hissed a whimper, curling in on himself as the thunder sounded once more, a chill shaking up his spine.

Stopping, holding himself steady with the wall, he wound his eyelids tight, as if that would block out the bitter noise.

Stupid mutts get the dog house.

Still too tired to clearly think, he didn’t know exactly why he left the room, where exactly he was going, until he got there. Their door was shut, the silence of slumber loud and clear, but he turned the nob anyway.

“Uh. I-,” he blanked, licking his cool lips. He stood at the foot if their bed, a surge of a dizzy daze tugging at the back of his brain. What was he doing? “I’m sorry.”

Oscar groaned at that, weak with confusion as he flipped over in his spot, struggling to locate his glasses on the dresser beside him.

Edith shuffled around in the bed, tied around in blankets, squinting through a wave of drowning drowsiness and an unlit room. “Who…? Graham, dear?” She mumbled, cocking her head.

Yes. That was his name now. Graham. “Y- yeah, yeah.” Giving the slightest of a nod, he directed his gaze to the floor.

“Who’s it…?” Oscar mumbled, face stuffed into the side of his pillow.

Too focused on Graham to answer her husband, Edith propped up her pillow and slumped back against it. “Did… did the rain wake you up?”

“Um, mhm, yes. Edith.” The name came out awkward and unfamiliar. He hoped she wouldn’t notice and get upset with him more than he guessed she already was - he’d clearly been struggling as of late not to call her by any sort title.

She motioned for him, waving him forward as she pulled the covers up to her lap. “You can come over here, sit on the bed if you like.”

Graham took a few slinking steps, shoulders hunched. Furniture was still… new. Uncomfortable. Wrong. Clenching his fist over his blanket, he sipped in a breath before neatly falling to his knees. She looked a bit dissatisfied with that, but didn’t say anything.

“Graham…? What’re you doing here?” Oscar said, finally sitting up beside his wife as he adjusted his glasses over his nose.

“The storm woke him.” Edith whispered, trailing her hand down his arm. Graham couldn’t help but let a little spike of jealousy grip him at that. “I take it you aren’t very fond of storms, are you?”

Timidly, he shook his head.

She smiled, a source of calm and peace that caved over the ache in his chest as her eyes glittered in the sliver of light from the doorway. He was inexplicably fond of her smile, but at the same time it knotted this little throb in his head. “Well, that’s just fine. If you’d feel more comfortable you can sit in here for a while, or I can bring in your mattress so you can sleep on the floor.”

It’s alright bud, you can snuggle up with me and momma. We’ll keep you safe and sound.

The pain got worse then, the little glitter in her eye was someone else’s, which of course didn’t really make any sense at all and he let his expression twist.

“Whatever you need, kid.”

Anything for you, sweetheart.

“I- just…,” Graham blinked, once, twice, head only deepening in heaviness with each. The shapes around him were fuzzing, contorting with white and he couldn’t tell why, he only knew it wasn’t supposed to do that and something was wrong-

“Woah there-!” She reached down as he smacked himself upside the head, and he jerked back from her. “Please- please don’t do that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry-,” choking on his words and the lump winding over them, he did his best - which never did seem to be enough - to stifle a sour sob. His ears were filling with stuffed cotton, a little ringing rising from the depths. He said something next that he wouldn’t remember after, too overcome by the blinding of white. “I’m so sorry, mommy.”

“Oh, honey.” She cooed, holding her arms out for him to collapse into. He didn’t have the mind to think about what he was doing, how terribly out of place he was, and in the moment could only focus on Edith’s radiating warmth.

“Hey, there,” The couple guided him between them in the bed, Oscar pressing a hand to his back as he sniffled and cried. “Let it all out.”

Graham didn’t really understand why he was crying, what - or who - he was crying for, but the strain in his belly, the tremble of his hands, and the tense in his chest surely did.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She said, reassuring him, but at the same time he was so sure of the opposite.

Soon enough Edith was wiping his tears away with a soft tissue plush between her fingers, and Oscar was allowing him to rest his pounding head atop his shoulder. Slumber clawed at him and his fluttering, reddened eyes, but some part of him refused to drift off just yet, to relish in the heat of the moment.

“Doing better now?” Oscar rubbed circles into his shoulder blade, a motion that he couldn’t pry his focus from.

“Yes’r…” he mumbled, soft and faint, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

Everything he touched had been poisoned by his dirtiness. Yet, they still touched him, allowing him to sit between them two - on their bed even - tucking their blankets up and over his tummy.

Warm. It was so warm. Not only physically, but emotionally.

The following strike of rolling thunder to come wasn’t welcomed, but no longer was he cold and alone when it happened.

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[whats-up-gayboy]

When my partner and I first got together, I hated how I looked.

Constant bullying had destroyed my self esteem, and paired with that I'd had a major injury while skateboarding that prevented me from doing any physical activity, so I was feeling unhealthy too.

Early on, he'd get this dreamy expression when he looked at me, and I'd shrug it off, laugh, change the subject any way I could. I thought he was making it up. Now, sometimes, if I'm very lucky, I can look in the mirror and see myself how he sees me.

He'd send me selfies, just him smiling into the camera, even though I knew he didn't like taking photos of himself, so I started to send them in return. At first, I'd avoid looking at them before I hit send. Then I started taking them more and more. Now, I look at those photos and see my smile, and think they're the best and happiest I ever look in any photos. I don't delete them anymore.

As an artist, I've always pushed myself to do better, falling into the habits of comparing myself with others. I've never given up, but I'd never been as proud of my work as I was when he started complimenting it. He wanted to keep every scribbled sticky note I'd give him, no matter how silly, treating them like treasure and stowing them away. He'd be in awe when I gifted him proper artworks, putting them straight on his wall. Now I post my art online and I'm pursuing a career in art with confidence.

When I first confided in him that, despite being a cis woman, I'd felt a huge sense of dysphoria related to my boobs since a very young age, he was immediately understanding. First, he helped me try sports bras, and I felt a huge weight had lifted off my shoulders. Recently, he's introduced me to trans tape, and this is the closest I've ever felt to being myself.

Too scared to talk to my GP about mental health, my partner helped me come up with a plan of what I wanted to say and finally convinced me to go, coming with me and helping when I got stuck. Hes been helping me through the long but rewarding trek that has been therapy ever since.

Now that I'm nearing the tail end of my physical recovery, I've been terrified to start skating again, slowly chipping away at the fear with my physiotherapist. But my partner has decided he wants me to teach him to skate, so now we're going to learn together.

I've got a long way to go and I'm still figuring myself out, but I'm so lucky and happy that I'm not on this journey alone.

[dy-mph-na]

TW: Abuse/Drug Addiction

[warpedwings]

[ashleyfableblack]

A Mother's Day Eternal Courtship Jam. Love is complicated. Love takes work. For a Big Mama Bughorse with a family spanning several species it can take alot. A hard tale about love and family some may find all too familiar. TW in hashtags

"THERE'S my SPECIAL Boy..." Chrysalis beamed a grin of gleaming, razor-keen fangs at Pharynx as the guards shut the balcony bay doors behind them. She levitated a bunch of grapes from a nearby table of assorted dishes and goblets, offering them. "MY Pharynx. Come. Sit with me. Something to eat?" Pharynx politely refused with a reserved smile. "No, thank you, My Queen." Purple grapes. Very plump, ripe ones at that. He wasn't surprised that she knew his favorite fruit. Though he'd gotten to spend very little time with her since The Exodus of their people, he had little doubt that her agents were still hidden among his Lovebug kind. She likely knew more of their affairs than he did. Making his way to the heap of cushions she was lounging upon he climbed the pedestal and sat. "Happy Mother's Day." He gave a sheepish grin. After last years celebration he hadn't been sure what to expect from her. 'Mother's Day' wasn't a changeling concept. Every Day was Mothers Day as far as The Hive was concerned. His people's decision to adopt the pony holiday as a lovebug tradition was received awkwardly at best. But Chrysalis was a Queen and the Mother of her entire race and she was certainly making a go at it for her sons sake. She was looking healthy. No doubt she was eating very well. Her pony wife had made it very clear that she alone would give her wife all the love she needed. She had always been large, so tall, beautiful and majestic in an indefinable way, by changeling standards. But she seemed larger still, these days. Her chitin gleamed, dark and smoky. The pitting of her limbs seemed reduced. Her mane of spidersilk seemed more like the hair of a pony. Her shape even seemed different. Her plot, in particular seemed rather... round. He wondered if she was unconsciously adapting her form to suit her wife or maybe to fit more closely with their pony subjects? It was a common enough trait among changelings in deep-cover. Her eyes shifted between her two sets of irises as she looked him over, examining him both visually and taking note of his emotional state. "I trust your trip was well. Hmmn." She could see he was particularly troubled but spoke nothing of it. Decorum was to be observed. She was a Queen. "Where is your idiot brother?" Pharynx chuckled. "Heh. He got pulled into a discussion on some artsy-craftsy garbage about 'decorative baking' with one of Queen Twilights advisors. The bubble-headed pink one." "Ah." Chrysalis nodded. "That would be Pinkie-pie." "That's the one. Ugh." Pharynx shifted uneasily on the pile of assorted cushions and royal-blue throw rugs. Some creatures would say that all ponies looked alike. He knew this to be untrue. Though he was a lovebug he still had a changelings eye for fine detail. Ponies of any tribe were very distinct, visually. Their personalities on the other hoof, on that he could definitely see their point. They were all so cloying, so irritating. They all just blended into one big blur of annoying, bouncy, frivolous children to him. Tasty as food but still, annoying. "I told him to just go on with her and he could meet us later. Seemed just as well."

"Indeed." She pursed her lips, studying him. The Queen took a sip from an ornate silver goblet. "She has a way with most creatures, one I would imagine fitting your brother's demeanor all too well." Pharynx regarded the view. He could see why his Queen-Mother had chosen to make this balcony into a receiving area. From here, New Canterlot castle had an impressive view of the surrounding land. From the peaks of far-off Yak-Yakistan to the tides coming in off the Celestial Sea. This perch was as tactical as it was deceptively pleasant. She could plot out an entire campaign from here as easily as charm unassuming diplomats. He sighed. He missed those days as a changeling agent. Chrysalis broke his drift into the past with her sharp, multi-tonal Hive voice. "But you desired a private audience." It wasn't a question. She knew. "Yes." He cleared his throat, straightening himself. "Yes, My Queen." Her emerald snake eyes stared expectantly. Most of his life those eyes had been a place of comfort to him. She was his Queen-Mother, the source of all life for his people. However, in this moment, he would almost be anywhere else than in their gaze. Still, he had planned. He had prepared. This was the time and this was his moment. He was going through with this. "I wished to speak with you on a personal matter, My Queen." Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. "Pharynx, it's not like you to be so nervous. Speak." "I needed to-" he paused. His deep, gravelly voice cracking, he cleared his throat. He couldn't believe it but he was actually trying to recall Thorax's 5-5-5 rule for dealing with his anxiety. Or was it 3-3-3? UGH. He would have to punch him when he saw him next time- more than he usually did. "I needed to apologize... to you, My Queen."

Chrysalis furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?" She adjusted her irises to study the shimmering pattern of emotions emanating from her lovebug son. Guilt, radiated from him like smoke from a oil-fire, guilt, shame and a deep, black loathing. She craned her neck and drew slightly closer. "You've nothing to apologize for." Pharynx visibly shrank. The words and the feeling behind them hit him like fists. "Respectfully, My Queen-" his lavender eyes glanced to her "I feel I do." Pharynx sighed hard. It had been years in the build-up. He'd finally opened the door. Nothing to do for it now but walk through. "Mother... I failed My Hive. I failed our people. I failed myself. Most of all, I failed you." His lips pursed as her struggled to contain the breaking dam inside his chest. Chrysalis straightened herself. She narrowed her eyes, her intense gaze could cut through stone. Her ears flitted as she listened intently. "Continue." Pharynx stared into the floor. His eyes looked to the same past his voice spoke from, a time some decades ago now. He could almost see the timeline in front of them, the chain of events which led him to this moment. "Look after her." He paused. The word, the identifier, it stung his tongue to say it. "That's what you said to me. The first thing you ever said to me. Look after her. You ordered me to protect my idiot younger sister, my broken, faulty twin." Pharynx sighed. "She was born wrong. You knew it. I knew it. She wasn't like the rest of us. From the moment I crawled out from our egg and looked back at her, still wobbling around, she was silent in the hive-mind. Not a ghost, not a whisper, just nothing. But rather than just leave her to our sisters to be eliminated, you ordered me to protect her. You seemed to value her, maybe me as well, if by proxy." He looked into his hooves as if searching for the secrets of his past in them. "You didn't give us designations like our sisters. We were different. We got names. I would be Pharynx. She was Thorax." He bit his lip. The dam was stressed but holding. "I wanted you to be proud of me. My Queen. My Mother. So, I protected her, the idiot. The coward. The weakling. Our sisters knew she was born wrong and they hated her, wanted her gone, if not dead. She was not of The Hive. She smelled wrong, tasted wrong. None of us could hear her in the Hive Mind." Pharynx gritted his tiny nub fangs "But I protected her from them. I kept her safe. When they bullied her, I fought her fights. When she failed missions, I cleaned up her mess. When she betrayed us, ran away like the traitor she..." He paused, the words caught in his throat. The dam was cracking. "The traitor he was. I still obeyed. I kept the patrols from finding him. I guided any incidental seekers from his pathetically obvious hiding spots. I even masked the scent of his fear in the air- THAT took ingenuity. But All for you, My Queen. All for The Hive. I protected him even up until..'" Pharynx shuddered. He hesitated to even say the words. The name his changeling people had given to the day of their near-genocide. The day their home was destroyed and the lovebugs were born. "The Exodus. I could have stopped him. I could have stopped all of them. The cowards." He gritted his teeth, hooves clenched against his thighs like fists. "The ingrateful, treasonous scum. The filthy pony intruders, that stupid draconequis-thing, my traitorous brother. I could have stopped them but I didn't." Pharynx looked to his Mother, His Queen. He owed her the respect of looking her in the eyes when he said this. When he admitted to the price of his shame. "I had a choice to make. In that moment I had to choose. To be the perfect daughter for you like I always wanted to be..." The weight of his guilt was crushing. The dam was breaking. Held back for the last thirty years The edges of his eyes moistened. "Or be the... the worthless... Son... I always knew I had needed to be."

His shoulders shook with the pressure of containing the tears. Gritting his teeth he continued. "I hated him. He wasn't a Changeling. He wasn't one of us. I hated him for being weak. I hated him for being different. I hated his stupid smiling face. I hated his stupid feelings, his selfishness, his self-important, self-righteous- OH, he was SO much better than the rest of us, he was better than The whole HIVE. He was so special, like those stupid pathetic little ponies. But I-" Pharynx choked. "He... He was braver than me. He was Thorax. He was... your son. And I made my choice." His lips quivered. The hot stinging droplets formed. His vision blurred and he looked away, sending the tears to patter against the cushions. "I could've stopped him, Mother. I could've saved you from all that. I could've saved all our sisters. I should've stopped him. I wanted to. I... I wanted to be strong for you. I swear I did. I swear I- but I couldn't- had to- I had to be- Ff- Ff- Ph-" Years of self-loathing buried the rest in a mass of sobs as he pressed his face into his hooves. The dam was broken now. Pharynx was broken. His chitinous body convulsed as he wailed. Like a tiny foal, he shrieked, loosing out the tears of self-hatred he'd held deep inside for decades. The venom within him had rotted away, cold and black, like tar on his heart for years. Pouring out from his eyes now, it burned, searing like fire. His lips curled back, baring his tiny lovebug faux-fangs. They were not the fierce, dagger-like sabres of a changeling. He chattered them together, trying to finish his thoughts but all that came out was a gibbering, wailing mess. To his shock Chrysalis pulled him to her barrel. Without thinking, he threw his hooves around her, hissing his tears into his Mother's chitin in thick, painful sobs. Several minutes passed as years of hate poured forth, drenching her chest. Not as The Changeling Queen-Mother but as his Mother, she held him firm and steady. Several minutes passed as years melted away between them. Finally, enough of the pain drained off, Pharynx found his words again. "Mom? Do you... hate me?" Chrysalis stared back at him with her giant serpents eyes. In all these years, he had never called her that. No drone had. 'My Queen'. 'Majesty'. 'Excellency'. 'Queen-mother.' 'Perfect One'. 'Exalted One' 'Our Beloved Perfection.' Never 'Mom'. She considered the question in silence. Her horn glowed. In a small eruption of emerald flames a trinket appeared in Pharynx lap. Her multi-tonal voice cut through the tense silence between them. "Do you know what this is?" He looked to the trinket. A fine golden chain set around a series of opaque transparent flakes of shimmering, almost crystalline material, chitin from a changeling. As many times as he'd seen his alicorn mother-in-law wear it, of course he knew what it was. "This is the wedding token you gave to Queen Twilight." "And its significance?" He swiped away a bubble of snot with the back of his forelimb. "It's an ancient pony practice- unicorn, specifically, to give an expensive token of affection to a mate." She starred expectantly.

He expanded- "Adapted during the fusion of their 3 tribal cultures to include the Terrestrials... Err... colloquially, 'Earth Pony' tradition of an exchange of a family heirloom ... one holding a more personal value than one dependent on the unicorn system of material worth." Chrysalis nodded. A smile began to warm her lips. "And what is this?" "It's your token to your mate- Queen Twilight." The Queen gave a small huff of impatience, touching the article with her pitted hoof to accent each word. "What. Is. This?" Pharynx wasn't certain what his mother was asking him. He lifted the article carefully in his hoofs and examined it. He'd never actually seen it this close before. He could see now the small plates of chitin were quite old. He had always thought they were just tiny clippings his Mother had made from her wings, emulating the pegasus practice of giving their mate one of their primary feathers. But that couldn't be. They were far too old for that. Their translucent quality was caused not by their age, but by their structure. No only that, they were slightly curved and shaped irregularly, each slightly smaller than the last. They were fitted plates. "These are..." he straightened as the realization dawned on him, suddenly taking even greater care to be very gentle with the artifact in his grasp. "These are the plates of a grub's first molting." She nodded again, her smile growing to expose her fangs. "They're yours."

Chrysalis draped a hoof around his shell. Pharynx fought to find the words. "Mine? But... How? Mine? They're... How did y-" "Your idiot brother saved the discards of your first molting. Don't ask me how he secreted them away or where he hid them. None of your sisters ever knew." She looked from the tiny bracelet to the astonished Pharynx. He stared at the jewelry as if it were speaking to him in a foreign tongue. "I've never found the knowledge in the Hive Mind, anyways. " She gave a wistful sigh. "I remember. You had both just completed your nymph molt a few days before. He came to me, all puffed up and smiles, and presented me with a set of baubles he'd made. A necklace and a bracelet. He'd managed to cobble together the materials from one of our caches of acquired valuables. I'm still not sure how he learned the skills required to craft them, half-dumb as he was. Still, he did. A necklace from his own remnants..." She lifted the trinket in her green flames. "...and this, from yours." In an implosion of magic the matrimonial token vanished, teleported back to Twilight's dresser. Pharynx stared in silence. She'd held onto such a thing, all these years, in secret. With a gentle touch of his angular cheek, Chrysalis regarded him. "I gave this to Twilight, my immortal love, as an act of trust, to honor the ancient custom of her people. It was only a thing but it was my most precious of things. And if I could trust her with this thing I could trust her with my hearts." She stroked his cheek, drawing close. "I am your Queen. I designate you all with purpose." Her snakes eyes held him like a helpless little grub. "When you hatched, I knew it. You were never born wrong. But you were born different. You weren't like any of our kind, ever, more like..." She paused, catching herself as if to keep a secret. "Yes, I named you. I knew what you were, as I have all my children from the dawn of our kind. Your foolish, flighty brother, he was Thorax, 'my heart'. You..." She smiled in a warmth he had never seen from her before. "...you were stronger, fiercer stuff. Pharynx, 'my voice'." As she smiled down at him the tears came again. He didn't fight them this time. "I've never hated you. In all The Hive, I've thousands of drones. Infiltrators, Warriors..." She wiped at his cheek with her pitted hoof. "But I've only one Pharynx. One you. You are my son."

He returned her smile, wiping at his cheeks.

They sat in silence. Maybe for the first time in their lives, they were truly Mother and Son, as Pharynx would see it. "Any other questions?" She gave a playfully irreverent smirk. still draping a hoof over his shell. "Heh... Maybe... Another hug? My Q-" She cut him off, pulling him into her hooves and squeezing her son tightly. He embraced her in return. He could almost taste the love in the air around them. It was an unusual feeling, this warmth. Was this 'acceptance'? It was alien but certainly not unwelcome. If this was what Thorax was always going on about Pharynx could get used to this 'family' business. The balcony-bay doors creaked open. A guard broke the tender silence of their moment with her announcement. "My Queen. Prince Thorax awaits Her Grace." Chrysalis looked to the guard, then to Pharynx. He smirked, making to hop up. "I'm gonna go pound him." The Queen rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Don't pick on your brother." Pharynx sniffled and froze. He had an almost pouty quality to his silent obedience. She sighed in resolution. "Fine. You're brothers..." Pharynx leapt up with a burst of energy and sprinted for the door. From the halls Chrysalis could hear the sounds of things being broken and shouting of various slurs of endearment. She chuckled and took a large mouthful of the grapes, chomping them down hungrily with a smug, self-satisfied smile. "Best. Mom. EVER."

[whoishotteranimepolls]

"Who's Hotter?" Gmilf Battle

[hoaxghost]

Happy to have posted that cause I can go into more depth about certain other demon-lore tidbits and the like! To expand upon the familial aspect:

Split demons often have complex relations when thinking about their Roots, this is strongest in 1st degree Splits while 3rd or 4th have a much more detached point of view. When Splits refer to their counterparts, they'll often use the term brother or sister but it's usually not intended in any gendered aspect.

[ooklet]

bastardly old man, he of the Mystery Illness has strucken again.

he's earned his second nickel for seeming to have cancer but actually having something much more esoteric instead. so esoteric, in fact, that FOUR vets can't discern the nature of the steadily growing lump in his lung. he's had basically every scan under the sun, two biopsies, a bunch of antibiotics, AND three rounds of chemo and no one goddamn knows what this thing is, nor has it responded to any treatments. he is scheduled to have surgery to just. have the fucked up part of his lung Yoinked cuz that's where we are with this. he goes in on monday and i am so fucking nervous for my small guy my little man my precious baby boy even tho everyone keeps assuring me this surgeon is great.

anyway huge shout out to my evil fucking grandmother for finally kicking the bucket and leaving the family enough money to help pay for his treatment or my stupid dumb baby that i love more than my own life would be dead from this godforsaken mystery lump.

[whumpsoda]

We Search For Stolen Personhood - You’re Scared

Masterlist

cw: pet whump, vomit mention, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, past abuse, conditioned whumpees

——————

He was trembling. He was not supposed to tremble, to quiver, to anything of the sort. Guard dogs - attack dogs, whatever he was anymore - don’t do that.

But he couldn’t help it.

Everything was a blur. He let fall a quivering breath, chest heaving in and out as he clenched and unclenched his clammy fingers over and over, harder and harder. Sensations pounded like rocks to his head, spinning him in circles with sickly dizziness, even if he couldn’t recall ever hitting his head on anything. He was sweating, body full to the brim with heat that spilled out in juice, even when the air was a stale chill.

He clung to his companion, the two of them shoved firm into a corner instead of the bunkbeds the woman had directed them to, refusing to allow him any give inside of his restricting embrace. Prince whined, animalistic and gratting, attempting to wriggle out from his never ending grip, but Mutt couldn’t let him go. He couldn’t.

What if they hurt him?

They would, they would, they would, everyone else is bad and only master is good.

Mutt couldn’t forgive himself if they did. No one could hurt Prince except for his master, as much as he hated Prince being hurt at all, that privilege was reserved to him and only him, and those were the rules. It was Mutt’s job to enforce those rules like the good, so obedient dog he was, to protect Prince at the expense of his own safety.

He… he was a good dog, wasn’t he?

Alas, the lines of his expression were scrunched with fear, his face stuck between the nape of Prince’s neck, and several times now he’d been forced to choke away an oncoming, lingering wave of emotions, something he wasn’t supposed to have.

He could nearly feel the burn of his collar, see the dreaded remote pressed between Handler Brooks’ fingers.

Show no weakness, ‘520, ain’t that right?

Fix it.

“Show no weakness,” He whispered to himself, shoving away feelings back into the drowning abyss that was his belly, evening his face to placid emptiness. “Show no weakness.”

“Squee- Squeezing-,” Prince gasped, hand pushing off his chest, a desperate and pitiful try for air. 

Mutt weakened his grip on instant, allowing Prince to collapse in a heave of a breath. He hadn’t even realized he was clutching tighter. “S- sorry. So sorry, ‘m so sorry.” Mutt apologized profusely, so very pathetically, so very soft and kind. How could he not behave so to Prince? 

“‘S okay.” His legs tightened around Mutt’s abdomen, as well did the hold around his neck. He was scared too, and there was nothing Mutt could do to stop it beside hold him, and Prince the same.

“H- hi.” 

He whipped up to the door, wide open and leaking a path of light throughout the room, and Prince’s hair tickled his throat as he turned to gaze as well. 

There a woman stood, shaded by the brightness flooding in from behind her, hands held up before her front in a gesture that said I’m innocent. “I won’t come any closer. If you don’t want me to.” She mumbled, gravel seeping into the edges of her words, a natural rasp that stuck to her voice even when quiet.

Mutt paused, swallowing, and after a moment dared to shake his head, a movement so weak it almost went unnoticed. He’d never shook his head before, only nodded in acceptance, as it was practically the same as saying no, and pets don’t say no. 

“I just… um,” she started, studying them with uneasy fascination, “You’re scared, aren’t… aren’t you?”

No response. He didn’t know what to say. Show no weakness, the little voice in his mind that sounded exactly like his handler - only warped - told him, over and over again, keeping him perfectly silent. 

But he was scared.

He had always been infected with an overbearing sore of sensitivity, a weakness, never truly fit for his designation, for the title he got to wear.

But he was good at pretending.

My champion.

“You don’t know what’s going on.” It wasn’t a question, but rather statement of knowing, as if the stranger could possibly understand how he felt. “You, um, we’re here to help you. No hurting.” 

He gradually met her gaze with eyes that glimmered in the shining light, sparking with watered down hope. “No… hurting?” 

“Nope. No hurting. I mean you’ll maybe hurt sometimes- we all do - but, not because of us, I mean, no, none of us will hurt you.” She took a soft step forward and he froze, fingers dipping marks into Prince’s skin until he whimpered, telling him without words to release. 

“Stay.” Mutt snarled, a low, bellowing growl, utilizing the last of his strength to order her around as if he had the jurisdiction, but she still followed. 

“Sorry.” She whispered, hushed, ceasing her movement. Her fingers scratched at the sleeve of her bulking sweater, the area around her arm that mirrored where his own tattoo sat. “Do you… where’s your master? What happened to them?” 

His master.

The blur that was a wound of the mind reopened, just a smidge, tearing through the walls of his brain. “Don’t, don’t know, want Master, want, need Master-” He was supposed to care for him, to serve him, to protect him, he was supposed to die for him-

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Your master’s okay.” She trailed off, gnawing at her lip and itching harder at her arm.

“Rea- really?”

You’re a real idiot, mutt, and I can only guess that that’s why you signed up for this.

Did he really fucking believe her?

“Yeah, I think so. Probably.” She shrugged, biting her lip. She paused for a moment, thinking. “So… you didn’t run away, did you?”

“N- no, never run. Never run from Master, it’s a rule.” It didn’t even need to be a rule, because Mutt never had and never would even think of running, and Mutt followed the rules so very well. Where else would he go? He’d been with master ever since he finished at the facility, and he surely did not have any urge to return to there for any reason.

“Mm. I understand.” She said, and somehow, for some stupid reason, he believed it. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“No, no, sir.” Mutt didn’t know why he was answering, why he gave her any reply at all, but maybe being scared messed with you like that, like how it was to him. Scattering his thoughts and leaving him so terrifyingly helpless, in need of any possible smidge of guidance.

“We, um, well I don’t know everything, but… I guess they found you guys or something, and, um, we took you in so you didn’t have to go back to… to the facility.”

“The facility…” That couldn’t have been the only reason they wanted them. The two were high value products, that’s what his master had always said, and so the only conclusion Mutt could muster up was that these people wanted to sell them. That was only plausible.

“Yes. They would, um, re- refurbish you, and send you to a new master. Cheaper.”

Mutt detested the thought of his first time at the facility, memories coiling into a wounded ache, and the prospect of ever going back brought a foul strengthen on the fear pent up inside of him. He didn’t want any more of the white walls, and the shocking sticks, or the lumps of gray mush. He was lucky, oh so very lucky to have been bought instead of rotting there any longer.

He couldn’t go back.

She must have noticed him getting wrapped up in his thoughts, because she reached behind her, behind the wall, bringing two items into frame. “I brought you guys… I mean, you’re supposed to pick them out yourselves, but these are the only two we have right now ‘cause Isaac hasn’t gone shopping for more in, um, forever.”

“Dog… toy…?” That’s what they appeared to be, fuzzy, colorful, and stuffed like the ones his master would gift him on the most special of holidays. He wondered if they squeaked just like those did.

“Stuffed animal. They’re for you and your friend. We all get one.” She smiled, her face softening the slightest bit. “Oscar thinks they help. It… kind of does.”

Prince piped up, a shock to the ears, voice the crack of a knife slicing through butter and hitting the plate beneath it. “Thank… you.”

“You’re welcome.” She muttered, fingers pulling at the fraying strings of her top. “Anyway, you two should, um, get some sleep.”

Mutt shook his head yet again, saliva in his mouth churning like the taste of a sour candy. He’d never had candy in any form before, but somehow that’s what the stinging acid of bile slinking up to his mouth tasted like. “Can’t, can’t sleep.” He’d never talked this much before in his whole life, and each word scratched raw at his throat.

“W- why?”

“I must protect Prince.” He stated it matter of fact, just like it was. That was his duty, and Mutt was going to fulfill it.

“So, so that’s his name… okay. Well… um, you do that. I guess. G’night.” She turned to leave, but before fully out of sight she stopped. “Oh. My name’s Joey, by the way. ‘S short for Josephine.”

She left without another word.

He swallowed, again shoving down the ever so inching hiccup of confusing emotions and vomit.

All of that thinking for himself was making Mutt ill.

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[wolfeyedwitch]

(hey! @pigeonwhumps here, starting off the Bailey and Phoenix crossover!)

Phoenix looks up as Zera walks into the medical bay. They don't even really need to be in here anymore, it's just that– well, Bailey.

"Hey Phoenix. We've heard back from your team. Abbie's free to come and pick you up tomorrow morning, if that's okay? I know it's a bit sudden."

Their heart skips a beat. Well, they've missed enough of work, they suppose, although they could've gone back on their own ages ago if Zera's team had let them. But, oh, fuck, Abbie's going to find out about them getting medical treatment, isn't she?

They could ask the team to lie but no, no. They deserve it. Whatever punishment they get for the medical treatment and being idle for so long when people need them, they deserve it. They should be more self-reliant, they shouldn't let people give them medical treatment, they don't need to rest, they don't need rescuing, they're immortal. Immortal and pathetic.

Zera's starting to frown now. Oh, no, that's not good. What've they done wrong now? They tug their sleeves down over their hands nervously.

"Yes, sir."

With Bloody Outstretched Hands Masterlist

Immortal Cannon Fodder Masterlist

This is set after Phoenix's crucifixion; they're recovering and staying with Zera's team for that period. For WBOH, this is after part 6; the team has just learned who Bailey is.

Also, just pretend that Phoenix called Bailey Poppet, and Zera called Phoenix Firebird. Phoenix doesn't know Bailey's name yet, and they're using their codenames in front of the villain they've taken in.

---

Zera is about 0.3 seconds away from screaming. They swear, if someone calls them "sir" one more time—

"Yes, sir," Phoenix says.

—they will sigh internally and put it in their mental "motivation to punch things" box.

Why is Phoenix being so damn... respectful? No, that isn't the right word. Deferential? That isn't quite it, either. They're acting like Zera is somehow... more important than them. Someone they have to placate, almost. Given that Phoenix has been a hero longer than Zera had, it makes no sense.

"Okay," Zera says aloud, tucking the confusing mess away to ponder later. "Well, you're due for your next dose of pain medication."

And for some reason, that sends Phoenix into a spiral. They claim that they don't need it, that Zera shouldn't waste the medication on them, that they're sorry for being an inconvenience. The whole thing feels like sandpaper on Zera's nerves, scraping them raw.

Eventually, through a judicious use of puppy-dog eyes, Zera convinces Phoenix to accept the medication. Then it's time to administer them to Poppet, or Bailey as they now know the villain's name is, as well.

Bailey wakes from their uneasy sleep when Zera gets close, drawing on their powers enough to make Zera's hair stand on end.

"Woah, it's okay, take it easy," Zera says, trying to de-escalate the situation.

Bailey stays poised to attack, one hand outstretched and powers at the ready, for a moment longer. Then their eyes focus on Zera, recognition finally dawning.

"Foxfire," they say, lowering their hand. The electric tension of their powers leaves the air. "I'm sorry, I thought— it doesn't matter what I thought, I messed up, I'm sorry."

Zera waves off the apology and offers Bailey the medication. Bailey, inexplicably, has...

Almost the exact same reaction that Phoenix did. Right down to claiming that Zera shouldn't 'waste' the medication on them.

"It isn't a waste," Zera says, trying to figure out why these two were having such a reaction. "Please, let me help you."

Bailey swallows and nods. Zera gives them the medication and leaves the medbay. They need to talk to... well. Everyone.

What the actual entire fuck is going on? This behavior is weird and unsettling enough coming from Poppet, or Bailey as they now know the villain's name is. But coming from Phoenix? Their fellow hero, who's been at this job even longer than Zera themself???

Something is very, very wrong here.

And Zera is going to find out what it is.

---

Let me know if you'd prefer not to be tagged for this crossover!

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world 

@dolls-circus @pickleking8 @ghostfacepepper @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow 

@multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-alise @equestrianwritingsstuff @scp-1296 

@livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly 

@neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway @whumpcreations @wicked-whump 

@heart4brains @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan 

@whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one 

@elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme 

@towerlesskey @emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps @whumpycries

[plasma-packin-mama]

Working on a two page comic but I like this panel so I'm posting it. This is their dynamic right?