author:Mossiest blind domestic_fluffy flufftv good_poopies hugbox huggies litterbox saccharine wheres_the_series

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Where's the Litterbox?
By: Mossiest

Toby didn't know that much about fluffies. They all had the same squeaky voice, and they all spoke the same babyish way, but he'd never been able to interact with any of them; on the rare occasion he'd encounter one outside, he'd either get pulled away from them or the fluffy would get scared off by someone. Everything he'd been told about them was that they were awful creatures that he should avoid.

And now, there was one living in his house.

His older sister Fiona had decided to get one while he was off visiting his grandmother in Ireland for a couple of weeks. He'd only found out about it on the drive back home when he'd heard its babbling over the phone - evidently, it was supposed to be a surprise. She'd assured him that it wouldn't cause any problems - it was housebroken and clean and had all its vaccinations, so it would be safe to play with. And it was her pet, so she'd be the one taking care of it.

Jet lag stopped him from doing anything with it the first night back (he'd fallen asleep on the way back), and it was still messing with him - he didn't get out of bed until 11AM this day, way later than usual. And he was starving.

Fortunately, his sister also was off school during the summer, and she was able to fix him up a high-quality brunch consisting of only the best cereal and milk. With some orange juice on the side.

A downgrade from the feast his grandmother made him every meal. But his rumbling belly made sure he wasn't going to be picky.

As he readily devoured his food, he overheard something playing on the tv. It didn't sound like a show his sister would ever watch - kind of sounded like it was playing a melody from a toy he hadn't played with in years. As he focused on the sound, he noticed someone was singing along to it - with that same babyish way all fluffies spoke.

As much as he wanted to listen to something else, he didn't want to argue with his sister. As if he had the energy to.

Placing his now-empty bowl and glass in the sink, Toby made his way back to his room - passing by the television room on the way. Liam was definitely singing along with the tv, kind of like he would a few years ago - though now Toby felt himself too old for that kind of stuff anymore. Besides, Liam's singing was pretty bad; very off-key, and the song itself sucked. Something about not making "bad-poopies" and making "good-poopies in da wittabox". He couldn't wait to just get in his room and play his radio over that noise.

But just before he could get to his room, he heard Liam break away from the song. "Weeum need make good poopies!" it announced. Great. He'd smelled fluffy poop before; just once, when one narrowly missed pooping on him when he accidentally knocked over its foal. It was the worst stuff he'd ever smelled.

He hoped that litterbox was strong.

Toby closed the door to his room, which blocked out most of the noise - but not all of it. For that, he turned on the radio to some random station and grabbed a book. He'd have to hope his sister would get sick of the tv too and change it to something else - she probably would if she already had to deal with two weeks of listening to this.

But right as he was getting ready to read, he heard Liam's voice once again. He couldn't tell what the fluffy was saying, but it was shouting something. Whatever it was, his sister would take care of it; it was her pet anyways.

The shouting didn't end though - if anything, it was getting louder.

And louder. What was his sister doing?

It suddenly stopped. Toby breathed a sigh of relief, opened his book and-

No, wait. It sounded like it was whining now. Great.

He let the whining go on for a whole fifteen seconds before he realized his sister wasn't coming to help her pet. And if nobody did, it was going to poop over the floor.

He laid the book on his bed and reopened his door; he was not happy to hear Liam wailing at max volume. "Huuuuuuhuuhuu! Nu wan make bad poopies! Nu wan be bad fwuffy!" The moment he walked out of his room, the fluffy seemed to take notice: "Smaww-daddeh! Pwease hewp! Weeum nu wan be poopy-fwuffy!" He could hear the whining get louder as the fluffy approached him, until it was right at his feet. "Pwease hewp huuhuuhuu!"

Toby sighed. There was no way his sister wasn't hearing this too, unless she was doing something loud upstairs. Looks like it'd be up to him to save her pet from making an awful mess.

"Alright, alright. I can help you." He bent down, his hands finding the fluffy rather quickly, and lifting it up. It was his first time actually picking one up, and he found that their name was well-earned; his fingers practically sank into its fur, and he wasn't even touching skin until his fingers were halfway in there. Not to mention how soft its fur was - it was like he was touching a brand-new stuffed bear.

But he couldn't admire its softness for long.

"So uh, where's your litterbox?"

"Am in Weeum's woom. Ovah dewe." He could feel the fluffy move in his grasp, probably trying to point him in the right direction. As if that would help.

Well, if that fluffy's caterwauling meant anything, its room was probably somewhere in this hallway. He recalled his sister mentioning something about a "fluffy saferoom" around here, though he didn't recall her mention which room had been converted. Maybe she did and he was too tired to have paid attention.

He was gonna have to trial-and-error this.

He went to the nearest room first. "Is this where your litterbox is?" he asked.

"Nu, smaww-daddeh. Am ovah dewe."

To the next room. "Here?"

"Smaww-daddeh, pwease! Nu wan pway game! Need tu make poopies in wittabox!"

He once again sighed. Well, only two possible rooms left.

He approached the next room - and noticed the door was already open. His feet met with a small barrier, though one that didn't go up very high - he easily could step over it if he needed to. But a fluffy this size couldn't. "Is this it?"

"Yus! Pwease wet Weeum in woom, smaww-daddeh!" Toby was already getting tired of that title.

Carefully, he let the fluffy down over the barrier - and it was quick to move away. He could hear the *pomf* *pomf* *pomf* of its footsteps as it scurried into the room, before sounding like it was trying to exert itself. Before he realized what was happening, he could hear the *pblrrt* signifying the fluffy was taking a dump - if the fact it started singing that "good poopies" song again didn't make it obvious enough. He could only hope it really was going in the litterbox - he really didn't want to have to smell that stuff ever again.

"Weeum make good poopies!" he heard it announce, before the *pomf*s once again approached. "Fank yuu su much, smaww-daddeh! Weeum wanna give huggie tu smaww-daddeh!"

Toby sighed. Was he really going to hug something that he knew took a dump less than a minute ago?

Well, it did feel pretty soft before. A hug wouldn't hurt.

He reached over for where he thought the fluffy was - and was surprised that it had opted to hold one of his arms. "*squee* Weeum give bestest huggies to bestest smaww-daddeh!" It felt as if a freshly-cleaned blanket wrapped around his arm, if that blanket could walk and talk and eat and poop. Toby couldn't resist grinning.

"...why smaww-daddeh nu open see-pwaces?"

The abruptness of the question caught him off guard - in part because of that strange term it used. "What do you mean 'see-places?'" he asked.

"See pwaces aww da pwaces yuu see fwum! Buh why smaww-daddeh nu open dem?"

Ooooh. That's what it mean: his eyes. "Because I'm blind."

"Wuh 'bwind' mean?"

"It means that...uhh..." Maybe he should use some terminology the fluffy would understand. "It means that my 'see-places' don't work. They've never worked. I can't see, even if I open them."

"W-wuhh!?" The fluffy's voice practically cracked at hearing that - and then the hug it was giving tightened (from a lightly-wrapped blanket to a lightly-wrapped blanket with a stuffed animal weighing it down). And then he felt a dampness on his arm. "Huuu...smaww-daddeh nu can see...am su sad..."

Pity was the last thing he was expecting from a fluffy.

"Can smaww-daddeh pwease hewp Weeum? Wan smaww-daddeh tu howd Weeum."

Toby shrugged - not like it would hurt. He wrapped his hands around the fluffy and picked it back up over the small fence-

The fluffy pushed itself slightly out of his grasp, right towards his head - and hugged his face. There was very little force to it, but he was stunned by the sudden movement. "What...what are you doing?" he asked.

"Huggies fix evewyfing. Weeum give huggies and fix smaww-daddeh's see-pwaces. Weeum wan smaww-daddeh to see Weeum's pwetty fwuff, and pwetty pikchas on teebee and pwetty woom and pwetty gwassies. Nu see-pwaces am da wowstest fing Weeum can fink of. Pwease, huggies, make smaww-daddeh's see-pwaces wowk!"

Unfortunately, there was no such magic. It wasn't just a problem with his eyes - it was a brain defect. His optic nerve hadn't formed properly, and they didn't catch it until he was already born. But he seriously doubted he could explain it to this fluffy - he already struggled to explain it to other kids his age.

Gently, he pulled Liam away. "It...it won't work like that. I know you mean well, but hugging isn't going to make me see." He could hear the dejected whimper from it, and felt a little bad that he crushed its hopes like that. "And, well, I don't need to see! I'm fine how I am!"

"Wuh? Smaww-daddeh am fine wiff nu see-pwaces?"

"Yeah!" He put a bit of energy in his voice, to sound almost happy about it. "I might not be able to see, but I can still hear. And feel, and smell, and taste! And I can do those better than other people! I don't even think about 'what if I could see this'. I just think about how it feels or sounds or, well, you know."

"W-weawwy? Weeum nu fink about it wike dat..." The two of them were silent for a brief moment, before Liam spoke again; "If smaww-daddeh nu can see Weeum, den Weeum wan smaww-daddeh tu feew Weeum. And smeww Weeum. And heaw Weeum." There was a brief pause before it hastily added, "Buh nu num Weeum! Weeum nu taste pwetty!" It earned a chuckle from Toby, who nodded. He took a seat in the hallway, his back to the wall, carefully laying Liam on his lap.

He decided to start with the fluffy's head - easy to to find with all the noise it was making. His hands first met its ears, which were basically floppy lightly-furred tabs of flesh. They didn't even stand up, just kind of hanging to the side. "Dose am heawy-pwaces!" His hands went further down, and found thinner skin covering something round - its eyes, no doubt. Though if he was feeling them right, these eyes were big. "Pwease be cawefuw, smaww-daddeh. Dat am see-pwace." He lifted his hand off and descended further, quickly finding the protruding-yet-pleasantly-soft nose. It was big like a dog's snout, though felt just like the rest of its head, unlike whatever dog-noses were made of. Its nostrils seemed to face forward too. "Dat am smewwy-pwace. Daddeh's not-hoofsies smeww pwetty!" His hand went lower to where he expected its mouth to be - and felt something soft and moist brush against his palm. "Tee-hee! Weeum give smaww-daddeh wickies!"

"Ha ha," Toby said, deadpan.

He moved his hand up to brush the fluffy's saliva on its back fur, but felt his hand bump against something unexpectedly tough. Feeling it up with his hand, it seemed to be kinda small, and was definitely sticking out of what he assumed was the fluffy's forehead. It got thinner as it went out, until the end was a fairly-rounded nub. "Dat am Weeum's head-pointy. Head-pointy means Weeum am a yuu-nee-cown. Weeum wuv head-pointy!"

"Doesn't seem that pointy to me."

With that mystery solved, he proceeded to wipe his hand on the back of the fluffy's neck, getting rid of its saliva. "Dat am Weeum's mane!" the fluffy said, "Weeum wuv pwetty gween mane. And pwetty gween taiw! And wuv smaww-daddeh's owange mane!"

"It's not orange," he curtly stated, feeling the fluffy's mane, which seemed longer than the rest of its fur, though only on the top of its head. "Mom says I'm a redhead, so it's red. Not that I really know what that's like."

"Weawwy? Smaww-daddeh nu know what wed am wike?"

He shrugged. "Not really. Can't really feel or smell red. It could actually be green or blue and I wouldn't know."

"Nu know what cowwows am? Buh Weeum know what cowaws am, even when widdwe cheepie-babbeh."

Even if he didn't know exactly what a "cheepie-babbeh" was, he got the jist of it. "Really? You didn't need anyone to teach you what colors are?" His hand brushed against the fluffy's featureless (but very fluffy) back, taking a brief moment to smell the thing, noting it smelled kind of sweet.

"Nobody teww Weeum have bwack fwuff, buh Weeum know Weeum have bwack fwuff when see-pwaces open and see bwack fwuff. And know dat taiw am gween. And Weeum know what oddah cowows am cawwed. Nu need mummah to teww what cowows am. Weeum just knuw."

"That's weird."

His hand ran down the fluffy's back, all the way to its rear. It wasn't too big - couldn't be longer than one of his arms. He knew he reached the tail when he felt it moving under his hand, swinging from side-to-side. He ran his hand along the length of it, feeling the mane-like fur covering a pretty small (but long) line of flesh. "And dat am Weeum's taiw! Am pwetty! And Weeum can do dis!" He felt the tail move under his hand - and felt it wrap around his arm. There wasn't too much to wrap with - it barely even made a full circle around his arm - but its fur was warm and soft all the same. "Weeum can give huggies wiff weggies and taiw! Mowe huggies fow smaww-daddeh, hee-hee!"

"You really like hugging, don't you?" He gently tried to pull his arm out of the hold, and found its tail was even weaker than its legs.

"Yus! Huggies am wun of da bestest fings evah!" Though once Toby got out of its hold, he noticed a slight urgency in the fluffy's voice. "U-um, smaww-daddeh? Pwease nu feew speshuw-pwace ow poopy-pwace. Weeum jus teww smaww-daddeh dat poopie-pwace and no-no stick am down thewe, ooky?"

Well, that saved him from learning the manual way. "Alright. 'Smaww-daddy' won't touch your special place. Or your poopy place." If the "no-no" stick was what he thought it was, then that meant the fluffy was a boy.

So instead, he went right for the belly, reaching under the fluffy. There was a stark difference between the belly and the back - the former was a lot softer and squishier. It was still just as furry, but it just yielded to his hand so much easier than its back did. He couldn't resist playing with it, brushing it around to see how it jiggled. "Tee-hee! Weeum wuv smaww-daddeh's bewwy wubs! Feew su gud!"

Gee, was there anything it didn't like?

Belly sufficiently jiggled, last left were the legs. They weren't very long - they each were as long as his hand, and they were thin enough that he could wrap his hands around them. And they were all just as furry as the rest of its body, except for a small portion on the ends; they were the first parts of pure skin he felt, and they were very smooth and squishy. "Dose awe Weeum's weggies, and daddeh am poking Weeum's hoofsies! Smaww-daddeh tickawin Weeum!" It was strange how soft its feet were - they probably would get worn down any surface rougher than bathroom tiles. That did explain the *pomf*ing whenever it was walking, at least.

His hand wandered back up the fluffy's front-side, and came into contact with some very chubby furry cheeks. It was enough to tell him he'd felt (almost) everything about the fluffy, and got a pretty good idea of what it was like; kind of like a fatter housecat in size, and very fluffy. And definitely smarter than a housecat. And it didn't have any claws like a housecat. He wasn't at all scared of holding it, of it possibly hurting him; everything about it was so soft and harmless.

He felt more afraid of hurting it.

It was only when there was a brief spike in volume from the television that Toby found himself unconsciously brushing his fingers against the fluffy's back fur. Something about teaching fluffies how to be good friends. He remembered that he was too old for that kind of stuff (not to mention the wrong species), so he gently lifted the fluffy off his lap and onto the floor. "Alright little guy, you go back to watching your shows. I'm gonna go back to my room."

"Ooky, smaww-daddeh." Toby turned towards his room...and was quick to notice the fluffy's footsteps headed in that direction. "Weeum hewp smaww-daddeh find woom. Nu wan smaww-daddeh tu get wost wike when wooking for wittabox. Am dis way."

Another sigh from the boy, though this one fairly exasperated. "You don't need to help me with that. I know where my room is. It's just down the hall." He pointed down towards it, just so the it would be clear he knew. "It's all the way down there. The room on the right. You don't have to help me with that, ok?"

"Ooky, smaww-daddeh." It almost sounded like he whimpered a little there, but didn't sound like he was going any further towards his room. Toby walked ahead, carefully how many doors he felt as he passed by them - Liam's room was a few doors down, so he just had to go back that many.

But he also noticed the *pomf* noise trailing behind him. He waited until he reached his room to do anything, but right as he was turning to scold the fluffy, it spoke first: "Weeum jus make shuwe smaww-daddeh get to woom wiffout gettin huwties. Nu wan smaww-daddeh tu faww an get huwties an nu get huggies."

"You don't need to..." He paused as he wasn't even sure he wanted to go through with the reprimand. Fluffies were supposed to be filthy rats that endlessly begged for help or make demands, but this one was outright going out of its way to help him (even if he didn't need it). "Thank you, Liam."

He heard it approach him one more time - and wrap its legs around his leg as best it could. "Weeum happy dat smaww-daddeh am happy! Fank you fow pwaying wiff Weeum! Weeum gonna watch teebee now." And just like that, the fluffy let go of his leg. He could hear its footsteps head away from him, until they were impossible to hear over the tv.

Maybe everyone was wrong about fluffies? He seemed like a pretty nice pet to have around.

Though he still had to wonder where his sister was. Maybe she was upstairs showering or something.

Whatever the case, he closed his door once more. His still had his braille book to read, but he would leave the radio off, in case Liam needed to use the litterbox again.
Uploader Mossiest,
Tags author:Mossiest blind domestic_fluffy flufftv good_poopies hugbox huggies litterbox saccharine wheres_the_series
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Comments


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Mossiest: Felt like writing some hugbox this time around. Could potentially be a series.

Domestic life is what fluffies were meant for. They're higher-maintenance than people would expect, but if properly cared for, they can be enjoyable pets to have around: capable of speaking and conveying its needs unambiguously, very colorful, and unconditionally loving of their owners, they can make excellent companions for children (and some adults who can tolerate their overly-saccharine behavior). Especially if said children have special needs.

The idea of how I envisioned Liam was along the lines of Spoosh's artstyle; their comics were what brought me to the booru.
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Anonymous1: Good shit my dude, was a nice read

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JimProfit: I LOVE this. I would love for this to become a series. Yes, please.

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Fuun: Cute. Very, very cute. It shows a different side of the fluffies: what makes them annoying -in the right circumstances- makes them great toys and decent pets.

And the writing style is also very good. It was a nice read.
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Anonymous2: I really loved your writing style of both the fluffy and the kid. Normally I avoid hug box because it’s usually stupid, but this was ace. Please continue to meeting the sister and more Liam interactions.
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Nuuu: Every once in a while, I come across a hugbox story I like. This is one of them.

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FoxHoarder: I absolutely loved this story! Very cute, and very unique idea. I hadn't even realized Liam was blind before he said so, yet the twist had been perfectly foreshadowed all the way.
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hteoa: @Mossiest: I would love to see this expand into a series. I really hope you do more