Jason hadn’t started the day with the expectation that he would, at some point, come home and find his best friend balls-deep in his girlfriend.
Sure, he’d had a pretty shitty year so far. His father’s death. Losing his job of six years and having to take another one that paid thirty percent less. And his favorite - his ever-worsening depression. But Candace had assured him that things would get better. She’d stuck with him through everything, and they’d been together for three years. So his expectation that she’d cheat on him? Pretty fucking low.
He’d forgotten to bring his lunch to work and had decided to swing by the apartment to grab the sandwich out of the fridge instead of spending money on fast food. Candace didn’t live there, so he hadn’t expected to see her. He definitely hadn’t expected to see her on his couch, moaning, riding his best friend like she was competing in the Fuck Olympics.
He’d stood there, stunned, unable to do anything but stare at them for a good thirty seconds. They were so into it that neither of them noticed him standing there. Finally he managed to break the silence with a loud, angry “what the fuck?” Clothes were grabbed. Eddie tried to claim it “wasn’t what it looked like.” Which was weird, Jason said, because it sure looked like he was giving Candace some dick. Candace cried, Jason threatened to kill Eddie, and then he kicked both of them out of his apartment. He called his boss and said he had a family emergency and wouldn’t be back in today; his boss was understanding and said it was fine. The only bright spot of the day, really. Then he avoided Candace’s texts for the next two hours.
The first couple of hours were spent wondering what he’d done wrong. Had he been a bad boyfriend? Yeah, he’d been through some rough shit. He’d struggled with depression. But Candace had been the one who convinced him to stop seeing his psychiatrist, to go off his meds. For a while he’d been okay. Even as bad things started to happen she’d insisted that he could tough things out, that he could beat his depression without having to resort to meds. Even as bad shit happened he remained loving. Attentive. He tried to be as positive as possible. He communicated with her, listened to her concerns, and did his best to make her life better. She constantly told him that he was an amazing boyfriend. Was he, though? Was he really?
Finally he’d decided he had to get out of the apartment. Get away from the scene of the crime. He drove to Wildwood Park and wandered down one of the most isolated, less-frequented trails. He wandered for half an hour without seeing another person. Finally he was exhausted, mentally and physically. He sat down on the first bench he saw, put his face in his hands, and started to cry. He hadn’t cried since his father had died. Before that…it was a blur. Now, though, he had a lot of tears to let out.
As the tears flowed, the dark thoughts started. He could always go back home, take the gun out of the safe, and eat a bullet. It’s not like Candace would miss him. His best friend? Obviously not. Both of his parents were dead and he was an only child. A few friends might miss him, sure, but…
“Mistah?”
His thoughts were interrupted by a slightly high-pitched voice.
“Hewwo? Mi…mistah?”
He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked up, looking for the source of the voice. Standing across the sidewalk, in front of a clump of bushes set in front of the trees, was a fluffy. He didn’t know much about fluffies beyond what he’s read on the internet, and what his fluffy-owning friends had told him. This one was dark red with a leaf-green mane, and it didn’t have wings or a horn. What were those called? Earthies? It looked like it was at least a little dirty. Obviously a stray, but maybe it’d had a home at one point.
“What?” Jason asked, trying to steady his voice.
“Am mistah otay? Chewwy heaw mistah makin sad wawas, sound wike mistah haf wowstest heawt huwties. Chewwy wowwy bout mistah.” It sat there and watched him. It looked cautious, but not afraid.
“I’m pretty fucking far from okay,” he said, wiping away more tears.
“Chewwy sowwy. Mistah wan tawk bout it? Chewwy gud at wistenin, an fwuff am weawwy softies. Mebbe hewp mistah tu gif pets tu fwuffy?”
“You’re kinda dirty.”
“Sowwy, nu can hewp dat. Buh nu haf poopies in fwuff, su dewe’s dat. Fwuff stiww am softies. Chewwy can jus wisten.”
“I, uh…sure, what the fuck. Wait. Aren’t you going to make me promise not to hurt you?”
“Nu. Mistah haf biggest saddies and wowstest heawt huwties. Chewwy nu fink mistah gon huwt Chewwy. Mebbe Chewwy nu am wight, buh nu can wet mistah feew suuuuuu saddies wifout twyin tu hewp.”
“Well, that’s…that’s really nice of you. Sure, yeah. C’mon over.”
“Otay!” The fluffy started to cross the sidewalk, then paused. “Wait, wet Chewwy bwing sumfin!” It disappeared into the bushes. Jason heard some rustling, and then the fluffy re-emerged with a bag in its mouth. It waddled across the sidwalk and sat on its haunches in front of Jason, dropping the bag.
“You brought me…jelly beans?”
“Fwuffy nu knu, buh mean hoomin thwow dem at Chewwy and say dey nummies, buh hoomin knu dat Chewwy nu can get tu nummies! Hoomin say Chewwy can stawve whiwe wookin at nummies dat Chewwy nu can get tu. Su Chewwy howd dem, keep dem safesies. Nao gif tu mistah, mebbe hewp wif dem saddies?”
“I, uh…thank you. No fluffy’s ever given me food before. I…I do like jelly beans.” They were cheap, generic jelly beans, and the bag had a little dirt on it, just like the fluffy. But it was sealed tight; too tight for fluffy teeth to get through. The candy was probably still good. What the hell? He reached down and picked up the bag, setting it beside him on the bench.
“Mistah am wewcome. Mistah nu mind if Chewwy haf upsies nao?”
The fluffy was actually asking permission to get up on the bench?
“No, please, go ahead. Get on up here.”
“Fank yu, mistah.” The fluffy put its front legs up on the bench, then huffed with effort as it kicked its back legs off the ground. It was nowhere near as graceful as a cat or a dog, but it did manage to end up standing next to Jason. It nudged his arm affectionately, then looked up at him and smiled. “Mistah wan fwuffy sit on wap, or wan fwuffy jus sit next tu mistah?”
“What the fuck? Go ahead and sit in my lap. Considering the day I’ve had, a little dirt’s the least of my worries.”
“Fank yu.” The fluffy sprawled out in his lap, getting comfortable and settling so that it could look up at him. “Hewwo. Fwuffy namesie am Chewwy. Am mawe, wive in dem bushies ovah dewe. Nao mistah teww Chewwy bout sewf an wha am wong.”
He did. He told her about his girlfriend, about how he caught her cheating with his best friend. He told her about his general unhappiness with the way his life was going. About his depression. Could a fluffy understand any of that shit, really? Jason didn’t know, but he didn’t really think about it. The fluffy was willing and eager to listen to him ramble on about his personal bullshit. And if she was willing to listen, well, he sure as hell needed a friendly ear. He looked down at her occasionally, and every single time she was staring up at him intently, nodding her head every now and then. Sometimes she’d let out a soft “ahhhhh nuuuuuu.” It really DID seem like she was listening. Finally he’d let it all out, every single thing he could think of.
“Nice mistah open dem nummies nao, eat summa dem nummies. Mebbe dem nummies wiww hewp make da heawt huwties wess.”
“I don’t really think that jelly beans are going to make me feel better.”
“Nevah knu, nice mistah. Sweetie nummies nevah make dem heawt huwties wowse.”
Jason couldn’t argue with that logic. He opened the bag and grabbed an orange one, popping it in his mouth. They tasted just fine despite the dusty appearance of the package. The fluffy watched him, waiting for him to say something.
“They’re pretty good,” Jason said. “Thank you for giving them to me.”
“Nice mistah am wewcome. Chewwy am su happies if dem nummies hewp.”
“Hey,” he said, tossing a red jelly bean into his mouth. “You wanna share these with me?”
“Nice mistah…gif Chewwy sweetie nummies?”
“Well, yeah. They were yours. It only seems fair to share them with you, right?”
“Chewwy wouwd wuv dat vewy much.” She rolled off of Jason’s lap, sat on her haunches next to him, and sat patiently until he reached back into the bag and pulled out a yellow jelly bean. She lowered her snout into his outstretched hand and gently took the bean from him, chewing it slowly and savoring the flavor.
“How is it?” Jason asked.
“Dem am gud nummies,” she said, giggling to herself. “Fank yu fow shawin, nice mistah.”
“Well hell, you’ve got to have more than one.” He held out a small handful of beans and let her pick them out of his hand one by one, chewing and swallowing each one separately. He wondered if maybe her teeth were just barely strong enough to cut through the hard exterior of the beans; he’d heard that fluffy teeth weren’t exactly the toughest in the animal kingdom. Maybe that’s why she was chewing them so slowly? It didn’t seem to bother her, though, so he kept feeding her beans.
They sat like that for a while, silently eating jelly beans until the bag was completely empty. Her slightly rough tongue kept grazing his palm, which felt a little weird. And as she chewed the “nummies” the fluffy started making soft cooing noises, almost like a pigeon. Despite all the shit he’d been through Jason couldn’t help but smile. She seemed so happy over something as simple as a bag of candy, and she’d been so incredibly concerned over his sadness. She’d sat there and listened to him go on and on about his life without interrupting him once. He’d heard awful stuff about fluffies, about their greed and stupidity and nastiness. But this fluffy here…she seemed pretty okay.
“Fank yu, nice mistah,” she said as he stood up and walked over to a nearby trash can so that he could throw the empty bag away.
“You’re welcome,” he said, tossing the bag and walking back over to the bench. “You keep thanking me, but you’re the one who shared them with me. Hasn’t anyone ever given you anything before?”
“Chewwy owd daddeh gif gud nummies an toysies an…” She paused, then hung her head and looked away. “Nu mattah. Nice mistah haf own pwobwems, nu nee heaw Chewwy pwobwems.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You listened to my shit. Now you tell me what’s got you down. You seem like a really good fluffy. How the hell did you end up living in this park?”
So Cherry told Jason about her life. She’d been adopted as a foal and her daddy had given her everything she’d wanted for a while - a nice nest to sleep in, lots of toys, treats, and spaghetti. The problem was that he’d wanted her to have babies. Which was fine, because so did she! He found her a special friend, one who’d fathered lots of babies before. Her special friend came to live with her and her daddy, and she had LOTS of special hugs with him.
But Cherry, as it turned out, couldn’t get pregnant. Her daddy didn’t like that. He told her that he didn’t need a stupid, worthless fluffy who couldn’t have any babies. She’d cried a lot; she really wanted babies, but if she couldn’t have them then she was happy enough with her family. She had her daddy and she had her special friend and she loved them with all of her heart. But her daddy didn’t care. He’d said he wanted her to have lots of babies so he could give them to other people and “make lots of munies.” He’d bought her because she was pretty and because her father was an alicorn. If she couldn’t have babies then he didn’t want her anymore. He didn’t love her.
Her daddy had driven her out to a nearby forest and dumped her, telling her she could fend for herself and that he didn’t care if she lived or died. She HAD almost died a few times, too, narrowly escaping multiple wild animals through sheer luck. Eventually she’d stumbled into a herd. The smarty, thinking she was pretty, assigned her a special friend so she could make lots of babies and make the herd stronger. She’d tried to tell the smarty that she couldn’t have babies, but he didn’t want to hear it. He said that EVERY mare could have babies. What did SHE know? HE was the smarty 'round there, and he told her to get started with the baby-making.
She’d loved her special friend, a handsome blue and purple pegasus. She thought he loved her, too. But it very quickly became clear to him that Cherry COULDN’T have babies, that she’d been telling the truth all along. Finally he kicked her out of their nest. Literally. He’d given her the worstest sorry hoofsies and had called her all sorts of terrible things. Then he’d gone to the smarty and delivered the bad news; Cherry was indeed barren.
The smarty had banished her from the herd, declaring that the sorry hoofsies her special friend had given her were enough physical punishment. As a final punishment, though, he made her watch as her special friend gave special hugs to another mare. A mare that Cherry had thought liked her. Afterwards the mare called Cherry a stupid worthless broken no-baby fluffy and had tried to give her sorry poopies. She’d run away, barely avoiding the sorry poopies. She ran for what seemed like forever, sobbing and muttering to herself about how awful the world was. How awful the other fluffies were. Life had given her almost nothing except heart hurties, and she hoped she’d be better off alone.
Life hadn’t been that bad for her once she’d found the park. She’d found a pretty secluded spot which wasn’t frequented by a lot of humans. When humans did come, they almost never saw her since she spent most of her time hiding in the nest she’d made in a clump of dense bushes. There was plenty of grass to eat, and plenty of wild berries that tasted a lot nicer than the grass. Sometimes the humans would sit in a nearby grassy field and eat and play, and sometimes they’d leave food behind. Cherry would score half-eaten sandwiches, fruits, vegetables, and sometimes sweet candies. There was even a good spot where she could make good poopies and peepees; it was a grate that led to a storm drain. The rains would come and wash away the not-pretty smells before they got too bad.
Cherry knew that the cold times were coming but she didn’t really know how to prepare. She’d dug out a nest deep in the bushes, as deep as she could possibly dig, and had been lining it with anything warm she could find. Soon she’d start gathering food and hoping for the best. Maybe she’d survive. Maybe she wouldn’t. But life hadn’t been kind to her so far, which meant that she didn’t hold out much hope for the future. If she didn’t make it, well, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about suffering anymore.
Jason listened to her story and found himself feeling like he’d found a kindred spirit. Life hadn’t been kind to either of them, although he had to concede that it’d been a lot shittier to Cherry. The way she talked about not really holding out hope for the future, about not really caring if she didn’t make it through the winter, it sounded a lot like the shit he said when he was deep in the grip of depression. The thought of dying didn’t sound bad to either of them; instead, they both saw it as a release from the shittiness of their lives.
He briefly considered asking her if she wanted to go home with him. But he realized that he didn’t have any of the shit he’d need to actually take care of her. He knew that fluffies needed a good, soft bed to sleep in, kind of like a dog bed. They needed a litter box. All kinds of toys, special food, and a safe place to roam around where they wouldn’t be able to hurt themselves. Maybe he could set something up in the closet in the spare bedroom? No, he’d still have to buy a bunch of shit and he really needed to be saving his money.
“Hey, Cherry,” Jason said, breaking the silence. She’d been curled up beside him, staring off into the bushes.
“Yus, nice mistah?”
“Would…would it be okay if I came here to visit you sometimes?”
“Nice mistah wan come to pawk and see Chewwy?”
“Yeah, maybe bring you some snacks sometimes, I dunno.”
The fluffy smiled at him, an honest-to-God smile. She looked genuinely happy and…hopeful? “Chewwy wike dat vewy, vewy much, nice mistah. Pwease come see Chewwy whenevah mistah wan. Nu nee bwing snackies ow nummies. Jus come say hewwo. Chewwy nu ask fo nuffin.”
“Well, I’m still going to bring you things, so you don’t have to ask.”
Cherry nudged her head against his leg, then nuzzled him, cooing contentedly. “Fank yu, nice mistah. Chewwy hope dat youw dummeh speshuw fwiend say dat she suuuuu sowwies.”
“I guess we’ll see. I’m not going to talk to her until at least tomorrow. Fuck her.” He stood up, then leaned over and ruffled Cherry’s mane. “You take care of yourself, Cherry. Maybe I’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”
“Otay, nice mistah.” She carefully hopped down from the bench, then looked up at him, still smiling. “Chewwy su happies tu haf met yu. Chewwy haf heawt happies. Haf gud bwight-time an dawk-time!”
“Hey, thanks. You too!” He watched her as she waddled off into the bushes, back into her home. He could hear her singing a happy little song to herself, but it was so quiet that he couldn’t understand the words.
He’d come visit her tomorrow. Definitely.
===
Jason couldn’t sleep.
He’d never even considered owning a fluffy before. All the shit he’d heard about them, they sounded like total nightmares. The internet said they were stupid shit machines, clumsy and idiotic and prone to breaking everything they touched before accidentally killing themselves. Mares were shitty and would do anything to have babies, but then would treat some of her foals like shit. Sometimes they’d kill their babies on purpose. Sometimes they’d do it on accident. Some of them would become “smarties” and would become total nightmares, demanding spaghetti and mares to fuck while they destroyed thigs and shit everywhere. Even his friends who had fluffies had horror stories and had never been able to sell him on adopting one.
But Cherry, she seemed…okay. She didn’t demand things. Didn’t even ask for anything. She listened to him and actually seemed to care about his pain even though he was a total stranger. Which, from what he’d read, was one of the things they’d been designed to do in the first place. Her life had been really shitty. Nobody had treated her well, not for any length of time. Humans and fluffies alike had let her down. He couldn’t imagine how it felt for her, but yet she still cared enough about humans to be worried when she heard one crying.
He got out of bed and walked into his spare bedroom, turning on the light. He’d turned it into kind of a home office; he’d set up his computer in there and was using it to shut himself away from the world and play games. The closet was empty, and pretty spacious. There wouldn’t be a lot of room for a fluffy to run around in there, but it was big enough that it wouldn’t feel cramped. A litter box could go in the far corner, a nest-bed in the other. He could leave the accordion doors open, set up some baby gates, and she’d be able to look out and see outside if he left the blinds open…
What the fuck? Was he seriously considering taking Cherry in?
Yeah. Yeah, he was. Fuck it, why not? She could tell him her problems, he could tell her his problems, and at the end of the day they’d both feel a little better. Why the fuck not?
Tomorrow he’d go to FluffMart and buy some supplies. He couldn’t get the super fancy shit, but he figured Cherry probably wouldn’t care. She’d probably be happy to have a nice, warm, safe place to live. Hell, he’d even buy her a couple of cans of spaghetti.
He turned the light back off and wandered back to bed, resolute in his decision.
He left the one hundred and seventy-two texts and thirteen voicemails from Candace unanswered. He’d deal with her shit later.
===
“Hey, Cherry, are you in there?” Jason stood on the sidewalk and called into the bushes.
“Yus, nice mistah!” Cherry came waddling out, a grin on her fluffy little face. “Nice mistah say gon’ come see Chewwy, nice mistah come see Chewwy! Suuuuu happies!” She waddled up to him and hugged his leg, giggling to herself.
“I promised you, and I always try to keep my promises. Look, uh, I know you’ve been through a whole lot of shit. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. But would you like to come live with me?”
“Nice mistah…wet Chewwy wive in housie?”
“Well, it’s not a house. It’s a second-floor apartment, not really huge. Nothing fancy. But it’s nice and safe and warm. I’ve got a closet I’ve kinda turned into a safe room for you.”
“Mistah…mistah haf pwace fo Chewwy?” She looked surprised. Not even worried, or doubtful. Just surprised that someone would actually set aside a place for her.
“Yeah. I, uh…Jesus. Look, I was kinda stunned yesterday at what a damn good fluffy you are. And we’ve got some things in common. We share some pain. I don’t give a fuck that you can’t have babies. I don’t care. I’ve got a nice soft bed for you, and a litter box, some kibble, and a few toys. A ball. Some blocks. This little thing of fabrics that you can nuzzle against, I guess they feel good? The lady at FluffMart said pillowfluffs like them a lot, but other fluffies like them too, so…fuck. I’m rambling.”
“Mistah…haf toysies an nummies an nestie aww fo Chewwy? Fo…fo Chewwy?” There were tears in her eyes. She couldn’t believe what he was saying. That this was actually happening.
“Hell yeah I do. I bought so much shit for you because, well, it seems like the right thing to do. You need a daddy, and I could use a friend.”
“Nyu…nyu daddeh?” she whispered. “Be nyu daddeh?”
“I’d love to be your new daddy. What do you say? Want to come live with me, Cherry?”
She stood on her hind legs and made the “upsies” pose. He lifted her, and she hugged him as well as she could, pressing against his chest and crying tears of joy. “Yus, daddeh! YUS! Chewwy wiww come wive wif nyu daddeh! Am suuuuuuu happies! Chewwy heawt huwties goin’ gu way nao, an daddeh heawt huwties gon’ gu way, tu!”
“That sounds good to me. Now let’s get you home and get you a bath.”
Cherry pulled away slightly, staring at him with horrified eyes. “B…baff? Wawa? Wawa am bad fo fwuffies, daddeh.”
“Trust me. Just trust me.”
“O…otay, daddeh.” She looked doubtful, but she didn’t cry or yell or call him a monster. Which, from everything he’d read, seemed like a good sign.
Jason carried his new fluffy all the way to the car, cradling her against his chest and smiling as she sang a new song to herself. She couldn’t carry a tune, and the lyrics didn’t really hold to any rhythm, but he really liked the words.
Chewwy haf nyu daddeh,
Daddeh gon gif huggies an wuv,
Chewwy gon be bestest fwuffy,
Make daddeh heawt huwties gu way foweveh
Maybe everything was going to be okay.