My Little Fluffies

>Sitting at the bustop, waiting for a bus.
>Blue fluffy pony comes out of nearby bushes.
>Spots you and runs up to you.
>"New fwend?"
>You ignore it.  Try not to look at it.
>"New fwend?"
>Don't... look...
>"New fwend?"
>It's sitting on  your foot.
>"New fwend, pwese?  Pway?"
>Groan.  Knock it off your shoe.  Fluffy pony lands on its feet and laughs.
>"Pway toss!  Fwuffy wuv pwayin' toss!"
>"I'm not playing with you..."
>Crap.  You spoke to it.  Now you're fucked until the bus gets here.
>"New fwend!" it cheers. "New fwend big!  Foodies?"
>Fluffy pony somehow climbs onto the bustop bench.
>Stands right next to you, smiling at you.
>pokerface.jpg
>"Fwend have foodies?  Fwuffy hungwy."
>"No, no food.  Go away."
>"Fwuffy babehs hungwy too."
>You glance at the fluffy pony.  It looks male.
>"Where are the babies?" you ask, because you've got nothing else to do.
>"Home!  Babehs home wid mumma!"
>You look around.  Didn't he come out of the bushes?
>"Where is home?"
>"Fwuffy show fwend!" it coos.  Pulls your arm with its front paws.
>"No, I'm waiting for a bus."
>"Home wight ower der!"  Fluffy leaps off bench and goes to a stack of garbage cans.  He disappears inside a big cardboard box.
>You look down street.  Bus nowhere in sight.  Fine, quick look.
>Walk over to box.  Fluffy pony pops back out.  "Wook inside, fwend!  Ssh!  Babehs are sweeping!"
>You peer inside.  A round pink fluffy pony mare is clearly dead.  The color's gone from her face.
>Huddled in her fluff, two foals are barley visible.  They look alive.
>"Mummah sweepy," the blue colt whispers.  "Mummah sweep after pooping babehs.  S'ill no wake upsies."
>Your heart lurches.  God these things are pathetic.
>"Are you the father?" you ask.
>Blue fluffy pony doesn't seem to understand.  "Sweepy fwuffy is mummah.  Babehs come from mummah's bottom."
>Ugh.  You can't leave them to starve.  This is just heartwrenching.
>You look at your watch.  Bus is ten minutes late anyway.  Your plans can wait.
>"Do you... want to live in my house?"
>"New home?  New home for fwuffy?"
>"You and the babies."
>"New home for fwuffies and babehs!"  Blue yells in his excitement.
>Foals wake up and cry for hugs.  Blue runs over and cuddles with them.
>"Babehs hungwy!  Mummah, wake upsies!  Babehs hungwy!"
>god thatssad.gif
>"Alright, fluffies, let's go."

>Got fluffy ponies in your arms, foals carefully nuzzled in Blue's fluff.
>"Wait, fwend!" Blue gasps.  "Forgot mummah fwuffy!"
>"Mummah?" one of the foals mewls.  "Mummah.  Wan' mummah!"
>You can't tell them right now.
>"I'll come back for her later."
>Blue accepts this.  "Fwuffy hungwy!  New home?"
>You nod and start walkng.  "New home."

Part 2

>Start thinking of names for your fluffies as you walk in the door.
>God, what a weird thought.  They're your fluffies.  Not the pests in the alleyway.
>They're yours.  Your pets.  Your responsibility until they inevitably get themselves mutilated somehow.
>You put down the Blue fluffy pony and two baby foals as careful as you can.
>They roll about on the hardwood floor.
>You think of a nice, simple name.  Something a fluffy pony can pronounce.
>"Fluffy, your name can be Max."
>Blue looks up ecstatically.  "Fwuffy name Max?"
>Just as you nod, the red foal poops on the floor and mewls a bit.
>Predictable.
>"No smew pwetty!" Max whines.  He ignores the foals and keeps following you to the kitchen.
>"Max hungwy!  Fwend, Max hungwy!"
>You blink.  "What do fluffy ponies eat?"
>"Foodies!  Fwuffy wan' foodies!"
>"Yeah, but... what foodies?"
>Max's eyes go wide.  "Max gets ta' choose?"  He starts bouncing up and down.
>"Sgetties!  Sgetties!  Max wan' sgetties!  Fwuffy wan' sgetties!"
>You can hear the foals sobbing on the floor.
>Rush back in, didn't think they'd get too far.
>Can't even walk, too tired, or too hungry.
>"Sgetties?" the foals mewl helplessly.  "Mummah?  Sgetties.  Mummah?"
>Max looks at you oddly.  "Where mummah?  Babehs hungwy!  Need mummah, fwend!"
>You're still not ready to tell them.
>You make some preperations for your new pets.

Part 3

>You coax your sister into dropping off a litter box, a large pet bed, and a few plush toys.
>Meanwhile, you cook a huge batch of spaghetti.  Melt some butter on it, and serve on a plastic plate.
>"Sgetties!" Max coos happily.  "Max wuv new fwend!  Fwend wuv fwuffy?"
>You groan.  "Sure."
>Max splats his face straight into the pasta.
>You carefully scoot the foals foward, and help the noodles get to their mouths.
>You just noticed the pink foal has tiny wings.  They flap happily as she eats.
>Finally, they've stopped crying for their mother and food.
>You set up a 'saferoom' like your sister insisted on.
>Completely clear out a walk-in closet, only had junk in it anyway.
>Set up the bed and litterbox, and toss the plush toys inside.
>Max and the unnamed foals finish the spaghetti shockingly fast.
>You park them in the room and explain.
>"This is your saferoom.  You sleep in here, you poop and pee in here...."
>On cue, Max pees on the floor.
>You groan again.  "In the box!  In the litterbox!  That's where you pee and poop."
>Max looks confused.  "Haf'ta poopie in box?  Why?"
>"Cus otherwise your saferoom won't smell pretty."
>You can't believe you just said that, but it gets the message in.
>"Okay!  Max poopy and peepee in box!"
>"And help the babies get in until they're big enough."
>Okay!" Max immediately scoops up the foals and drops them in the box.
>They roll around in the litter, babbling incoherently.
>"Right..." you shrug.  "Well, I guess that's kind of it..."
>"Pway!" Max bounces.  "Fwend pway wif' Max?  Pway, pwese?"
>You're already exhausted.  "How about hide and seek."
>Max's eyes beam.  "Yeah!  Dat game!  Wanna pway dat!"
>"Okay, you stay in here.  And I'll go find you.  Might take a while"
>"Okay!" Max grins excitedly.
>You shut the door and take a nap.

Part 4
>Three weeks later.
>Max is well adjusted to his new home.  Still calls you "fwend" instead of "daddy."
>Both foals turned out to be female.
>Named the pink pegasus Gumdrop, and the red earth pony Cherry.
>Be relaxing in back yard, trying to interweb on laptop.
>Fluffy ponies are playing in grass.
>You've recieved almost no helpful info from the internet.
>Look up what fluffy ponies like to eat, you get spaghetti recipes and nothing else.
>Look up what fluffy ponies do for fun, find rule 34's of fluffy ponies.
>Look up how long fluffy ponies live, nobody knows.  Record is a few years, before dying horribly.  No pony has ever been obserbed dying of old age.
>Look up fluffy pony care methods, only find extermination methods....
>Fluffy ponies are frollicking in grass.
>Suddenly a squirrel shows up.
>"New fwend?" Cherry coos.  "Pway?"
>"New fwend!" Gumdrop dashes over.  The squirrel bolts through the grass and around the yard.
>Fluffy ponies chase it relentlessly.  They laugh and giggle and think they're playing tag.
>Squirrel leaps onto brick wall.  Suddenly a stray cat swoops out of nowhere and catchs the squirrel.
>Fluffy ponies gasp.  "New fwend?" Max says hesitantly.
>The cat rips into the squirrel for meat.
>"Munstah huwt fwend!" Cherry cries.
>You've had your eye on the cat.  Those things know fluffies are easier prey than squirrels.
>"No!" Gumdrop wails.  "No huwt fwend!  Hewp, daddy!"
>Gumdrop poops in her confusion, and looks even more fearful.
>"Daddy, Gumdwop sowwy!  Accident, daddy!  No time-out, pwese!"
>You don't let the fluffies poop in the yard.  They spend a lot of time in the grass, and you don't want it getting in thier fluff.
>"It's okay, sweety," you sigh.  "Just don't sit in it!"
>"Fwend!" Max calls out.  "Munstah has fwend!  Hewp, fwend?"
>"It's not a monster.  It's a cat."  Should you be saying that?  To them it's still very dangerous.
>"Fluffies, come inside.  It's lunch time."
>"Nummies!" "Foodies!"  "Wunchtime!"
>They forget all about the squirrel in a heartbeat.

Part 5
>Lunch time.  Be eating sandvich while fluffy ponies eat fluffy chow.
>"Wan' sgetties..." Max complains.  He's the picky eater.  "Sgetties, fwend?  Pwese?"
>"No sgetties today.  Only on weekends."
>Max seems mature for a fluffy, but still has no concept of time.
>"But Max wuv sgetties.  Chow boring..."
>You laugh.  "Yeah, so are sandwiches..."
>"Hey!" Max whines. "My foodies!"
>Look up, see Cherry's eaten all her chow, and is now gobbling up Max's food.  Again.
>"Cherry!" You swoop over and snatch her up.
>"Hugs!" Cherry beams, chow all over her muzzle.  "Wuv you daddy!"
>"No hugs!" You carry her down the hall.  "Time out!  I told you to stop eating other fluffy's food!"
>Cherry's eyes water.  "No!  No time out!  Fwuffy hungwy!  Pwese, daddy!"
>"You already ate your whole bowl of food and half of Max's.  You'll live."
>"No time out!" she bawls.  "No!"
>You open up the broom closet and plop her in a wooden box.  It's just big enough that she can't get out.  There's a litter box inside of it.
>Fluffies know they get double-time out if they poop outside the litter box out of anger.
>"You can come out in an hour," you say, plopping the miserable red fluffy pony in the box.
>"Daddy!  Chewwy sowwy!  Pwese!  Chewwy tummy hungwy!"
>sigh.gif
>You turn on the closet light, and shut the door to the sound of her sobbing.
>Go back to kitchen, Max and Gumdrop have finished their food, and they both run up to you.
>"Gumdwop s'ill hungwy, daddy!"  "Max hungwy!  Sgetties now?"
>You blink.  They're still hungry too?  Maybe you need to start feeding them more.
>You think of Cherry, having snuck food just from a chronically unfilled belly.
>You feel a little wrong, but you can't go back now and undo the lesson.
>"Alright," you nod.  "From now on, you guys get more food."
>"Fwuffy wuv daddy!"  "Max get more foodies now?"

Part 6
>Be watching Max play with Cherry and Gumdrop.
>Can't decide if he's more of a big brother or father figure to them.
>Not even sure if he is their biological father.
>Not sure if it matters with fluffy ponies.  The only relationship they acklnowegde is mother to foal.
>Siblings: nonexistent.  Fathers: nonexistent.  It's just mummahs and babehs.
>"Wook!" Max chimes at the window.  "Biwdies!  Wook!"
>Cherry and Gumdrop both coo at the sight of crows on the powerlines.
>Gumdrop is flapping her wings like crazy.  She bounces a little, and barely hovers.
>Maybe she's a little chubby, or her wings are too small.
>Or maybe pegasus fluffies are always flightless.  You've never actually seen a fluffy fly.
>"Wan' fwy!" Gumdrop sings excitedly.  "Daddy, Gumdwop wan' fwy wike biwdies!"
>"Yeah!" Cherry joins.  "Chewwy wan' fwy too!  Daddy, daddy, wan' fwy!"
>Gumdrop laughs and nuzzles Cherry's side.  "No wingies, siwwy!  Chewwy neva fwy!"
>You roll your eyes.  Hear it comes.
>Cherry bursts into tears.
>"Daddy!" Cherry sobs.  "Gumdwop say Chewwy neva fwy!"
>You walk up to them and give Cherry a big hug.  How do you explain this one?
>"Well," you start.  "Gumdrop has wings.  You don't.  But I don't think either of you will fly."
>Cherry's just crying harder, and now Gumdrop looks like she'll join her.
>God you're bad at this...
>Max wraps his hooves around Gumdrop.  "No sad!  Huggies for Gumdwop!"
>"It's nothing personal," you shrug.  "It's just... fluffies don't fly.  Maybe hover, but not fly."
>Max gives Gumdrop and extra long hug.  And when you let Cherry go, he hugs her too.
>That'a boy, Max.
>"If Gumdwop fwies," the pink pegasus sniffles, "get sgetties for pwize?"
>You smile.  "Let's have spaghetti right now."
>And their worries are gone for another day.

Part 7
>"Fwend, wook!" Max jumps in front of the backyard door.
>"Munstah has fwuffy!  Fwuffy need hewp!"
>You glance out glass door.
>HOLY crap a bird is pecking at a fluffy pony in your backyard!
>Run outside.  Shoo bird away.  Look down at miserable sight.
>A yellow fluffy pony is dying at your feet.
>Covered in cuts, wounds, bleeding quickly.
>Wrap her in shirt and run inside.
>Max, Cherry and Gumdrop sit outside bathroom door while you try to keep fluffy alive.
>"New fwend?"  "New fwend huwt?" "Daddy, fwuffy need hugsies!  Fwuffy sad!"
>Yellow fluffy pony finds the energy to wail miserably as you clean wounds with alcohol.
>The others keep babbling.  "Fwuffy huwt!  Daddy!  Why no huggiess?"
>Yellow fluffy is female.  Maybe Max's age.  Hard to tell.  Lot of fluff torn off.
>You've done what you can.
>Bundle her in clean blanket, let her relax on couch.
>"New...Daddy...?" she mewls, finally speaking.
>By sunset, she's eating cooked carrots and spaghetti.
>Looks like you have a new addition to the family.

Part 8
>Max likes to draw.  Unfortunately, he only draws things you'd rather not display.
>Gumdrop taking a poopy.  Cherry crying in time out.  You cutting yourself while shaving...
>And now, you have a crayon drawing of Buttercup getting attacked by a bird....
>Great...
>"Buttacup no wike!" she predictably cries upon seeing the horrid reminder.
>"Max dwaw for you!" Max argues.  "Is dwawing for Buttacup!"
>"Buttacup no wike!  Daddy!  Daddy!"
>You thought Cherry and Gumdrop were a handful...
>Buttercup is terrified of... everything.  Even for a fluffy pony, she is a walking nervous wreck.
>She's afraid of the fridge, even when it's closed.
>She's afraid of the television, and sobs when she sees it on.
>She's horrified of Gumdrop when she manages to hover for a few seconds.
>To top it off, she always, ALWAYS has a good amount of poop ready to unleash when she's scared by something.
>Bright light turns on too quickly?  *Squeak!* *Splat!*
>She hasn't taken a step outside since the attack.
>She watches from behind the sliding glass door as the others play in the grass.
>Buttercup sure isn't afraid of you though.
>"Daddy, I wuv you!" she says at every turn.
>"I love you, too, buttercup."
>"Daddy...."
>"Yes?"
>"I ... uhm... I wuv you!"  she giggles happily.
>She's adorable, and precious, but I consider giving her up.  Not in a box like I found the others, but to a good home.  Or a shelter, even.
>Buttercup is a huge leap forward in caretaking compared to the others.
>They're almost what you'd call confident and housebroken.  A couple accidents, a couple fits or fights, sure.
>But Buttercup's a paranoid, walking poop machine.
>"Daddy, daddy!" she coos.
>"You love me?"
>"I wuv you, daddy!"

Part 9
>You've decided the extra work is worth it.  Buttercup can stay.
>Max treats her just like he cared for the foals on day one.
>Every time she cries or panics, he hugs her.
>Every time she poops herself and makes a mess, he calms her down.
>Buttercup didn't just come from a traumatic event, she came from a traumatic home.
>When you first had to give her a time out (after she borrowed Gumdrop's ball without permission and lost it), she had a panic attack.
>"No sowry stick!  No, daddy!  No huwt fwuffy, pwese!  Fwuffy sowwy!  Fwuffy sowwy!  No sowry stick!  No huwt fwuffy!"
>It wrecked your heart to lock her in the time out box.
>You googled 'sorry stick,' and realized how disturbing some fluffy pony's lives can end up being.
>After time out, Buttercup had filled the entire time out box with urine and poop.
>You knew it wasn't out of spite, so you didn't extend the punishment.
>You hugged her, and told her you loved her, and that you would never, ever hurt her.
>She finally stopped crying.
>Buttercup took a few steps outside later that day.

Part 10
>It finally happened....
>You weren't prepared for it.  You let your guard down after all these months.
>When you first brought them in, you said you'd care for your fluffy ponies.
>And if they died, they died.  That's what fluffy ponies do better than anything else.  They die.
>But this... came out of nowhere too quickly.
>Gumdrop jumped off the top of the stairs, trying to fly.
>Crashed, smashed her head, bled out.
>Max, Cherry and Buttercup spent three hours trying to hug her back to health before you got home.
>They still don't understand what happened.
>Come home to Max frantically waiting at the door.
>"Fwend!" he cries.  "Gumdwop los' her boo-boo-juice.  No be angwy at her..."
>Run into next room and see the truth.  Cherry and Buttercup's fluff are soaked with drying blood.
>Gumdrop's head is shattered, and they're still trying to hug her.
>"Gumdwop, arms gettin' tiwed!" Cherry complains. "You s'ill need hugs?"
>Break down sobbing.... Fluffy ponies forget about their sister and start hugging you now.
>"Daddy sad?  Hugs?"  "Hugs make daddy better?"
>A bottle of wine and a quick burial later, what's done is done.
>"Fwend?" Max asks me the next day. "Wen is Gumdwop comin' back?"
>"She's not, Max.  She died.  Remember?"
>"Gumdwop huwt her head," he nods.  "Lose boo-boo-juice.  Gumdwop better yet?"
>"No.  She's never going to be better."
>"... When?"
>"Max, go play with Cherry and Buttercup."
>"Okay..."
>In a few weeks, you'd think Buttercup and Cherry completely forgot Gumdrop even existed.
>Max.... He keeps staring at the spot where it happened....

Part 11
>It's been a whole year since you brought Max and the two foals into your home.
>There have been close calls, but Max and Cherry are healthy as ever.
>Buttercup is slowly getting over her more irrational fears.
>She even frolics in the grass with the others if you promise to stay right next to her.
>One day, you hear both Buttercup and Max mention "special hugs."
>You regret not looking that one up online.
>A week later, Buttercup is bloating and you realize more foals are joining the family.
>Two weeks later, Buttercup is so round she literally can't walk.
>Max and Cherry take turns rolling her around gently like a big balloon.
>"Buttercup gonna be a mummah!" she sings all day.  "I wuv babehs!  I wuv you, daddy!"
>You've already got the bedding and food bowls prepared for three more foals.
>Max sits next to you on the couch one afternoon, and he looks just like he did when he approached you on the bustop bench.
>"Daddy? Babehs, soon?" Max asks you.
>"That's right.  You'll be a daddy soon."
>He looks confused.  "No... babehs!  Buttacup is mummah.  Babehs soon, wight daddy?"
>You give him a good hug.  "Yes, Max.  Soon.  Very soon."

End.