Your name is Valentine, and you’re a pretty fluffy mare with red fluff and a pink mane. Daddeh’s special friend bought you for your daddeh when you were just a little babbeh, for something called “Valentine’s Day”. Now, though, Daddeh’s special friend is gone. After saying meanie things to each other and slamming the doors, which was so scary, they started talking about “breaking up”. Silly daddeh, he didn’t look broken at all! But he had the biggest heart hurties for a long time after his special friend left. You cuddled up next to him and gave him all the huggies you could, and eventually he felt better. He called you his sweet girl, which made you so happy.
Nowadays, daddeh feels much better! He gives you love and huggies and sketties once a week, whatever a week is. He’s the bestest daddeh ever! You can’t help but feel like you’re missing something, though, and it gives you heart hurties. You just don’t feel complete, even with Daddeh doting on you every day.
You ponder over what it is you could be missing for many bright-times. All your favorite toys are still in their box… your favorite blankie is still in your bed… and your daddeh is only gone for a few forevers when he has to go to “work”, so those are out of the question.
One day, the answer finally comes to you! You’re watching your favorite show, FluffTV, when an episode you’ve never seen before comes on. “An’ nao it am tiem fow… BABBEHS! Babbehs am bestest fing in da whowe wowd!” You sit and stare raptly. A few foals come onto the set and dance, and you feel your heart fill up with joy. When you see a soon-mummah walk out and join them, everything clicks into place. That’s what you’ve been missing… it’s babbehs! You don’t just want them, you NEED them. You need to have babbehs right now!
The anticipation builds as you wait for Daddeh to get home. You can’t wait to ask him for babbehs, because you just know he’ll say yes! He’s the nicest, bestest daddeh ever and he’s always letting you have nice things. You just know he’ll let you have the prettiest, bestest, cutest babbehs.
The jingle of keys in the door alerts you, and you dash out of the saferoom just as Daddeh walks in. “Whoa, hey, Valentine! I missed you too, girl!” he laughs as you rear up and paw at his leggies. “Daddeh! Daddeh! Vawentine miss 'ou! Vawentine su happies tu see 'ou!” you cry gleefully as he ruffles your mane.
You wait patiently for him to loosen his tie, take his shoes off, and set his things down before trotting up to him. “Daddeh, Vawentine hab someting tu ask 'ou.” He smiles down at you. “What is it, little lady?” You can’t contain your excitement any longer. “Daddeh, can Vawentine hab babbehs?! Pwease, pwease, pwease? Babbehs am bestest fing evah!”
His smile twitches, then drops into a frown. You frown too. Is he going to say no? He sighs, then shakes his head. “Valentine, honey, we don’t have enough money for babies right now. I’ve been picking up some extra shifts just so I can afford to feed both of us… feeding any more fluffies would be out of the question.” You giggle. “Siwwy daddeh, babbehs nu nee’ nummies! Babbehs can dwink mummah miwkies!” But Daddeh still looks sad. “Babies grow up, Valentine. They stop drinking milk and start eating big fluffy food. And I’m stretched to the limit buying enough food to feed you and myself as it is. Maybe someday you can have babies, but not today. I’m sorry.”
You feel… sad. And suddenly, you’re angry. You’re so angry you feel like you’re going to explode! “DUMMEH DADDEH! VAWENTINE NEE’ BABBEHS! WAN BABBEHS NAO!” Whoa, where did that come from? You see Daddeh’s sad face turn into a mad face, and immediately, you cower. “Valentine! That is no way to talk to me. You had better apologize, now!” You want to say you’re sorry with all your heart, you want to give him huggies and say it’s okay, but you can’t. This is just too important to you. “NU SAY SOWWY! VAWENTINE WAN BABBEHS NAO! DUMMEH DADDEH GET SOWWY POOPIES!” Before you know what you’re doing, you’ve turned around and started to make bad poopies.
“Fuck!” You hear your Daddeh shout the no-no word as your sorry poopies splatter his work clothes. Your face heats up and you want to cry. You’ve NEVER made bad poopies on Daddeh before, even when you were a babbeh. Before you can apologize, he grabs you by your mane and drops you into the sorry box! “You’re being a very bad fluffy, Valentine! No dinner tonight, and you’re spending the rest of today and tomorrow in the sorry box.” You finally break down and sob into your hooves as he cleans up your mess. When he’s done, you hear him go into his room and slam the door, like he did when his special friend said meanie words to him. That makes your heart hurt even more, and you cry until you eventually fall asleep.
The next day, Daddeh wakes you up and asks if you’re going to be a good girl today. You immediately beg him to let you out of the sorry box, blubbering and wailing. “Vawentine am su su sowwies, daddeh! Nu knu wai Vawentine was su meany but wiww nebah du it ‘gain! Huu huu huu… Vawentine am bad fwuffy! Am sowwies fow gibin’ daddeh heawt huwties!” His angry face relaxes, and he picks you up and hugs you. “Oh, Valentine. I can’t stay mad at you. I forgive you, sweetie. Just don’t poop on my work clothes again, okay?” You sniffle and nod. “Otay, daddeh. Vawentine wiww nebah gib sowwy poopies 'gain.” He pets your head. “Good girl. Let’s get you a bath and then some breakfast.”
After breakfast, Daddeh has to leave for work. You nuzzle him one last time before he leaves, and he gives you a gentle pat. Once he’s gone and the door is locked, you trudge down the hall to your saferoom. You can’t help but feel depressed, both over being told you can’t have babies and your horrible behavior towards your daddeh. Why were you so mean to him last night? It makes your thinkie-place hurt.
This is a little story I’ve been thinking of. What if mares who get baby fever are operating on pure instinct? What if it’s their haywire programming that tells them to scream and shit and run away until they have babies? I wanted to explore the programmed “instincts” of fluffies, and the flaws that come with them.