Bestest Sickies: Mommy's Little Problem Solver Ch. 2 (by fluffysomething)

You are Dr. Harriet Roseman, and the little baby virus that you “adopted” from its parent finally killed a fluffy! You have a feeling this’ll be much better than-


“Mom-mee? Wai mom-mee nu wook wike viwus? Wook diffewent than Eff-vee-zewo-fouw-fouw-siks. Supposed be smaww an’ nu big.” FV-0446 interrupts your thinking with the very small microphone you equipped it with for its second “housie-friend”.

“Oh, fuck. It can’t know I killed its parental virus, virus-napped it and proceed to raise it to kill of the feral population of fluffies. What do I do?” You whisper to yourself worriedly, staring down at the fluffy FV-0446 is currently infecting.

“Wha am fuk? Eff-vee-zewo-fouw-fouw-siks wike nyew wowd! Fuk! Wike fuk!” FV-0446 speaks into the microphone again gleefully.

“Please don’t say that word, it’s a bad word. Did you give the fluffy’s cells “huggies” yet? You’ve been in there for 2 days, and your incubation period is almost up.” You caution, writing something down.

“Es! Am pwaying with nyew fwiends wight nyow! Wub pway! Nyow, can pwease answew ques-ion?” It replies, giggling mid-sentence.

“Silly you, I am your real mommy! When you say that, it makes mommy sad, and only bad little baby viruses make mommy sad. Mommy doesn’t like bad babies. Good babies don’t question their mommies!” You say sweetly, hiding the multiple lies you just told.

“Nu wan make mom-mee saddies! Nu wan! Hewe, Eff-vee-zewo-fouw-fouw-siks pway in housie-fwiend extwa fast su can gib mom-mee huggies!” FV-0446 answers, sounding very worried at the thought of making you upset.

You watch as the fluffy standing in front of you dies suddenly, covered in projectile vomit.

“Towd ‘ou Eff-vee-zewo-fouw-fouw-siks pway extwa fast fo’ gib huggies!” It giggles as you put it back into its tube.


You are Fluffy, a fluffy. You live outside with your special friend, who hasn’t come back in a while.


“Fwuffy saddies… Wan speshew-fwend…” You sigh, laying down on the sidewalk sadly.

“Hello, fluffy! Want to help with something? Here, drink this.” A hoomin new-mummah says, holding out a small tube with liquid in it.

“Oh-tay!” You say, drinking it until it was all gone, even hearing a small “whee” as you swallowed it.

“Have fun, now! Goodbye.” The new-mummah shouts, waving at you.


You are Dr. Harriet Roseman, and you are worried. FV-0446 is catching onto the fact you’re not its real parent, but you-


“Dis am Smawty’s wand nyow! Weave nyow ow git wowstest sowwy-hoofies!” A fluffy yells at you, shitting in your backyard.

This is going to be fun.

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