Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Easter is not a holiday we celebrate here,” Floofty explains over the phone to one of their colleagues. “Though the name holds a resemblance to a holiday that we do celebrate this time of year.”

“And what's that?”

“Greaster.”

His barely stifled laughter crackles the phone audio.

“The name of your holiday is just as nonsensical,”

“I know, I know. The similarities are just uncanny. What does it celebrate?” 

“The arrival of Spring, life, general fertility.” They lean back in their laboratory chair, squeaking loudly at the angle, “Simply another excuse to gorge yourself under Mother Naturae’s blessing. I don't partake in it myself, besides the holiday sales at restaurants.”

“I don't celebrate Easter, either. It's more of a human ritual… but I do send the kids to join in Easter egg hunts as a community activity.”

“Excuse me?”

“Right. I forgot your species lays eggs.” He clinks some glassware on his end. Seems he's in his lab as well. “Moving on, I do think you will find what I've sent you to be on theme.”

Floofty glances to the basket full of goodies, and the vial of something neon pink on top.

“It's greatly increased the rate at which the bacterial colonies I've experimented on grow. It even causes cell division in tissue samples I've exposed it to, though it doesn't appear to be carcinogenic.”

“I'll certainly have fun observing these effects on subjects of my own…” They hope he can hear the smile they have, “Why is it in a basket?”

“Easter basket.” He states.

“Right.”

Floofty hears an alarm go off on his end.

“Ah, apologies. Be seeing you! Tell me about your results!” He says frantically, hanging up before Floofty can say goodbye.

Oh well. That's normal for him.

They don't have any other plans this Sunday, and start to prep their lab for experimentation on this new substance…

But not before enjoying a chocolate candy.

—--

When conducting experiments anywhere other than a secluded island, Floofty prefers to take proper safety precautions. Lab coat, gloves, goggles, lab shoes. Or in their case, lab shoe . The works. 

They've prepared a bacterial colony of their own to test. Floofty takes the Petri dish out of the incubator and places it on their lab bench, next to the vial of mysterious substance.

They take a pipette and write down their intended dosage for the trial, something that came out to roughly one drop.

Upon opening the vial, they hear the sound of fizzing, before the liquid explodes out of the top, splattering all over their work station, and all over them. 

Floofty at first only feels a resigned annoyance, faintly remembering their ears popping when visiting their colleague. Of course there's a different atmospheric pressure, it's a different planet. Of course a sealed container of liquid would explode upon opening. They groan out loud in exasperation. They'd need to clean all of this up and they don't even have half of the substance left to play with.

…until they feel a tingling on the parts of their arms the pink liquid had splattered on their lab coat.

“Shit.”

It may not be carcinogenic, but they need to wash it off immediately if it was soaking through their lab coat. Who knows what effects it would have on a macro-organism like Floofty. Nausea is setting in already, but they have no clue if that's anxiety or a symptom.

They swore off being their own test subject!!

Floofty ducks into their emergency laboratory shower, shedding their protective gear, scrubbing at their fur until they're sure every drop is removed. 

The tingling stops, and they sigh. 

“In the clear,” Floofty mumbles to themself. They take a towel to dry off their paws before hastily scribbling down their symptoms 

An accident, but it still yielded data.

They decide to head upstairs where there are more towels and their change of clothes. An accident is a great excuse to take a break.

—

As they pass by their reflection in the bathroom mirror, they're taken aback by their fur. After an emergency shower, it usually leaves them looking like a subway rat until the next time they have access to their fur care products. This time, they look soft and vibrant. Not just where they got splashed, they feel the back of their neck and find even the fur usually on the edge of matted by their bow tie is soft and fluffy. 

Fascinating!

They also find that their nose is a touch closer to orange than it's usual lemon yellow, subtle enough they wouldn't have noticed if they weren't looking for odd cosmetic changes. A bit like they have blush on.

They make a mental note. They left their pen downstairs. 

Floofty's phone dings with a text notification. From Filbo! Not the blue furred friend they were expecting.

[Hey Floofty! Me and some of the others are meeting up at the bowling alley! Liz said she wants them to regret advertising unlimited fries to whoever can eat them.]

[Eggabell is coming too] He adds in a quick second text.

Floofty quickly starts typing a response before he lists every member of the guest list they've shown a passing interest in speaking to.

[You had me convinced at “Unlimited Fries”, no need to sell it to me. I will be attending.]

Filbo sends a gif of confetti, then all the time and place details.

With that planned, Floofty decides to relax for a  moment with a cup of tea before cleaning up their lab.

They boil the water, steep the leaves, add some sugar, and open their fridge for some milk…

…they eyeball the mustard.

Why? That is not a good idea. That's not something you mix into a liquid.

They convince themself not to, adding milk to their tea and taking a sip.

As they're putting the milk back into the fridge, they take the mustard and squirt a healthy amount into their mouth. Sip of tea to wash it down.

Absolutely disgusting.

Exactly what they were craving.

They're astounded at their behavior. The only cause they can think of is the spill, but they have no idea what could possibly incite such a specific yet random symptom.

Nausea, soft fur, a ‘glow’ of the face, weird cravings?

Are they... it can't be. There's no way the effects would scale up that perfectly.

They cast the possibility out of their mind as Floofty takes more towels and a fresh lab coat back down to their lab to clean up the mess left behind. They'll be too tired after a social event to clean, so protective gear they once again don to make sure it isn't corroding their table.

After merely walking from the top of the stairs to the bottom of the stairs, their lab coat feels uncomfortable, and they absentmindedly adjust it.

They stop to write everything down, adjusting their lab coat around their belly once again.

Their test subject!! The Petri dish of bacteria they were going to experiment on has been left out in the cold!!!!

Why are they worried about that???? They have plenty…

With a gloved hand, they put the dish back into the incubator with the rest of the samples, and smile. It's safe in there, exactly where it's supposed to be. They feel a strange warmth in their core at that.

That's... Not a symptom they've attributed to any physical cause before. No matter. They must continue before the sweet allure of friends and fries calls them away.

Upon finding the substance soluble in water, they don a pair of rubber gloves and begin the simple task of wiping up everything and squeezing it out into a bucket. They might be able to save anything that's left. Floofty is so excited by this prospect they don't notice the pressure growing in their belly.

Only when they bend over to clean up a spot on the floor and several buttons pop open do they realize something may be different.

Floofty blushes wildly at suddenly having their belly exposed to open air, despite being completely alone. They drop the washcloth and frantically re-button their coat, finding it… concerningly tight. It fit only a few minutes ago!!

As they stare flushed and bewildered, staring at their midsection, it becomes increasingly clear that they are swelling.  

This morning they had just been on the pudgy side of average. Now they looked bloated enough to match having eaten an incredibly large meal… except…

They poke and prod and gently rub their stomach. It's firm, much more solid than the times they've been stuffed silly.

They're pregnant .

Or at least, the pink substance has activated their reproductive system, and something is growing in their uterus. It might be an egg. It might be pure calcium. It might be an egg that contains a baby .

Floofty's pulse quickens. As much as they would like to cheat a baby without sex like this, a tumor-like growth in their uterus could kill them.

They grab their phone and call the colleague who sent them the substance in the first place. As it rings they rummage through the basket for any information on some kind of neutralizing agent or any way to slow the effects down.

As the call goes to voicemail, a button pings off their coat and into grump knows where.

One more try. His alarms usually mean something akin to “a literal asteroid is going to crash into his planet” so they can only be a little annoyed that he isn't answering.

Voicemail again. They leave a message.

“I've been exposed to the substance you gifted it’s-” a sudden jolt in pressure pulls a squeak of surprise out of their mouth, “-eep! It's having adverse effects. I'm going to attempt to rever-”

Another button pops open.

“Reverse engineer something to neutralize it but please get back to me as soon as you can. If you can help. Thank you.”

Beep. They put their phone back into their pocket unbuttoning any buttons that seem to be in the way of their belly’s growth.

The steadily increasing weight is putting a lot of strain on their leg on their prosthetic, but they can't just sit down without wasting time they could be using to stop this!

Floofty pushes through, grabbing the only thing helpful in the basket; a notecard with meager info on what's affecting them. They lean against the table, using one paw to hold and read the notecard, leaving the other to rub their stomach.

With its particular chemical formula, it cannot be neutralized by most chemicals on their planet, but plenty found on their colleague’s. Luckily, this isn't the first time they've gotten a gift from their alien friend. It's just the first time it's gone wrong.

When they take a step towards the cabinet they think what they need is in, they're met with an unexpected splash from in between their legs. Oh grump.

Floofty looks down, met with an obscene baby bump, looking overdue by weeks. Or possibly full of a very large clutch. A clutch that is steadily making their way lower and lower through their body. An absolutely tantalizing pressure starts to build in the very deepest part of their pelvis.

At least whatever is in there is coming out! 

…probably.

They widen their stance and plunge two fingers into their opening to check their cervix. Even with their disproportionately long arms, maneuvering around their bump proves the task very difficult. Their cervix is dilated. Dilat ing . They just wipe their hand off on their coat and continue. There is no time to waste.

Rummaging through their supplies, they get more and more distracted by the increasing pressure. A contraction makes them stop just to breathe through it. When they find one ingredient, and look down at themself, they're shaken by the fact they're still growing . They're in labor and still growing. Extremely concerning.

More components to their solution are in a cabinet on the floor. Floofty very slowly lowers themself, only to be absolutely smacked with the urge to push the moment their knees are bent. Everything is forgotten as they pant in between pushes, hiking up their lab coat to put a hand over their cunt, squatting unevenly, as their prosthetic is not quite as flexible as they need. For a moment it feels like they cannot make progress, that every time they let up the egg goes right back to their cervix. Until all at once-

Pop!

The stretch followed by the relief brings them to orgasm. Holy fuck. They fall onto their knees, too spent to ease themself down. Though they regret it as the contents of their womb shift violently downwards. Floofty finally sits down on the floor.

They're already pushing on a second egg before they've even caught their breath. They feel the overwhelming, delicious stretch of the second egg as they push, leaning back on their elbows to earn themself enough room.

It pops out, rolling and sliding on the smooth floor to join its sibling. They snap their legs shut. Even with contractions squeezing them every few seconds, they still have at least one braincell in their head.

Keep it together, Fizzlebean!! Who knows how long they'll be stuck here pushing out eggs if they don't attempt to stop the growing!

They swing open the cabinet door next to them, leaning to reach the second ingredient.

Floofty stops to grab both of their eggs, and place them on the loose tail of their coat. A bit of separation between them and the cold floor.

With the second ingredient in hand, they only need one more to possibly stop this.

On the opposite side of the room. 

The pressure they've been holding back between their closed legs grows unbearable in that moment. They relent, opening their legs and pushing. Fuck. Fuck yes. Giving in feels amazing. It seems to be much bigger than the first two. Were they growing even in the birth canal??

Floofty pushes, paw tracing their opening in an attempt to soothe the touch of pain they're in. It's not even that bad, just a full body workout. When that proves fruitless, they clutch their belly and gently rub to try and soothe the aches there.

One big, long push and they finally have the egg out. They take deep, gasping breaths. 

And yet. Their stomach is still the same size, if not bigger.

What the grump.

With great difficulty, they sit up, shed their lab coat, and leave their laid eggs behind as they make a big attempt to stand up. 

They're able to get to their feet, but the following contraction sends them back down.

One more try. They can do this!

They pull themself up and lean heavily on their table, slowly shuffling a few feet.

The movement inches another egg through their birth canal. They keep going, slower.

Eventually the egg peeks out of them with every step and they spend more time trying to keep the egg inside than actually moving, and they give up.

In one lucky push, the egg falls into their hand. Floofty slumps against the nearest set of drawers with the newest member of their brood against their chest. It's especially apparent with this egg that the patterns are not correct for grumpus eggs, with a beautiful sunset gradient. They'd be more interested in this fact if they weren't spending all their energy laying them.

Their struggle wasn't for nothing, they're able to reach for their unused towels, and make themself a heck of a lot more comfortable.

To lay eggs. For the foreseeable future.

They stew on that long enough for another egg to press against their cervix. 

With a groan, they roll up a towel enough to be a serviceable cushion to sit on. All instincts are telling them this is not the correct environment to be in, but they're far past the point of nest making.

Kicking off their prosthetic foot and using it to reach the lab coat holding the rest of their clutch, a little bit of the “wrong” feeling flows away. It feels nice to keep them close. All of them are so pretty… beautiful eggs… they’re such a good brooder, making pretty eggs.

Their phone rings from their lab coat pocket.. It's not their friend, calling with a solution… It's Lizbert.

They answer.

“Floofty! Where the grump are you?! You don't think you're too cool for Filbowling, are you?”

Oh grump. They had slighted Filbo in a way he would never speak up about. Floofty feels kinda terrible despite the extenuating circumstances.

“Elizabert- apologies.” Their voice comes out way more breathless and hoarse than they're expecting. They've been moaning for a while, haven't they? “I’ve… had a lab accident during cleanup. Been too-” the egg they'd nearly forgotten about makes a surge of progress, making them stifle a moan away from the phone receiver. “...preoccupied.”

“Shit mate you alright?” Her playfully aggressive tone drops immediately.

“....yes?”

“Floofty.”

“I'm not in peril! I just… can't move from where I am.”

“Floofty are you fuckin’ serious, do you want us to help?”

“No!” They blurt, they do not want their friends to see them like this. Nor do they want their friends to see their pussy. But. They are in fact stuck. “Er- I could… use help. I'm just in an embarrassing state.”

“You enter heat or something?”

“Ah-” They cover their face despite being alone, blushing, “no.. but. You should probably approach it as though I have.”

They've orgasmed like four times.

“Bell! We need to save Floofty's ass!”

Is the last thing they hear before Liz hangs up.

The inclusion of the word “we” worries them. They hadn't exactly gotten along with Liz in the past, and while their relationship wasn't hostile now… well. It could be better. At least she's worried for their well being.

The egg that had so rudely interrupted them during the phone call slides out onto the towel under them. It seems they're getting the hang of this. They pick it up to wipe away the slime from it, and are struck by its beautiful, sparkly ruby red color. Was there glitter on this egg??

None comes off when they wipe down the egg, but they aren't entirely sure none was left inside their body. Both Shelsy and their own research left them disgusted by microplastics.

They tuck the ruby egg into their little makeshift nest wrapped up in their lab coat. They're hit with a surge of warmth and pride looking at all their colorful eggs. They turn to lay on their side, to stop the weight of the eggs inside them putting pressure on their spine…but mostly to look at their eggs closer. With no heavy prosthetic, they're able to spread their legs when the need arises.

So close to their brood, some instinct awakens within them, and they inspect each of the five eggs they have so far. Each bright and vibrant, though not a single one has a hint of eggshell color on them. Floofty doesn't care. Wiping off some of the sticky slime on the eggs, they’re dissatisfied by how well the towel works.

…should they?

They bring a gorgeous, sapphire blue speckled egg to their face, and gently run their tongue over it. 

Their mind is completely overtaken by the instincts kept within their dna. 

Clean egg. Warm egg. 

Egg safe. Egg baby.

They methodically clean each of their five, only stopping in their feverish licking to push the sixth further along. They feel and look like an animal.

But they can't stop. 

When pulling up their sixth egg, they don't even mind how much slime they were dripping all over their fur. They just want the pretty purple egg in their nest.

Floofty shuffles their setup under the table they were previously leaning against. Darker, more enclosed. Slightly more comfortable.

They lay there for grump knows how long, laying eggs as fast as they can. In the back of their mind they're trying to lay them faster than they're being made, to avoid swelling even further , but verbalizing that goal is impossible for them. They manage to turn their nest into a sizable pile of clean and sparkly eggs, and their belly into something only slightly overdue looking.

Upstairs, a door opens and closes. Footsteps make their floorboards creak above them.

When the door to their lab opens, Floofty glances over in surprise, only to make direct eye contact with Eggabell.

She blinks in surprise before saying anything.

“Floofty!” 

It's then Floofty realizes that they're partway through laying an egg, stuck perfectly crowning.

Their legs snap shut and they shuffle further underneath the table, effectively shoving their egg in progress right back where it came from.

Eggabell rushes to their side, inciting a growl from Floofty.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay. I'm not gonna touch your eggs.”

…they relax slightly. She puts a paw on the side of their belly, rubbing gently. It feels great.

“Just focus on getting this one out so we can talk, yeah? You lost a lot of progress but that's okay.” She coos in a soft voice. 

Floofty grumbles, shifting a little to push more comfortably.

It doesn't take much effort anyway, but Eggabell’s support makes it slightly more enjoyable. It gently slides out with a grunt.

Eggabell blinks.

“It was pink when it was first crowning”

Floofty pulls up their egg. It's blue all over.

…

“Curious.” Is all they have to say.

“Are you feeling better? More aware?”

“...marginally. Still very...” they think of how to phrase it. Instead, they lick their freshest egg.

“Here, they probably need water,” Elizabert says, handing Eggabell a water bottle.

Floofty shrinks back, growling. intruder! When the fuck did she get in here?!

“Hey. I'm letting you have Bell all to yourself for thi-” she leans down to look at them under the table, and is so shocked by Floofty’s state– bloated full of eggs, fur matted and eyes wide and feral– she has to look away, paw over her mouth.

…

“I'm just the errand grump!” She wheezes out, finally.

Floofty accepts the gift of water. 

“Floofty, what in grump’s name happened to you?” Eggabell interrupts this standoff.

“I received a… holiday gift from a colleague, that pink spill,” Floofty points to the half cleaned up mess, “it was supposed to have this effect on bacteria, not grumpuses. It.. soaked through my lab coat and now I'm. Extremely gravid.”

Liz looks nervously at the puddle.

Eggabell shakes her head at Liz.

“I've been…” they don't know how to phrase this in a way that won't fluster them, so they just cover they face as they speak, “laying eggs since before you called,”

They feel another egg starting to enter their birth canal, but squeeze their legs together in an attempt to earn more time to explain.

“What's with the mess of bottles up here?” Liz asks.

“That's the half finished… possible cure. It’s extrapolated from the chemical formula of the original substance, so I don't even know if it'll help but-” they're cut off by a very insistent egg being shoved against their resistance, causing a breathy whine.

“We have to try!” Eggabell says, trying not to bring attention to their whorish noises.

Liz slips on a pair of gloves, quick to set up the two beakers on one of their stations.

“Are there any other ingredients? 

“Mmm- it's, for the life of me I'm not going to pronounce it. It's labeled with a skull and crossbones.” They grit their teeth through the increasing stretch, “bright green.. it's.. not actually toxic to grumpuses but… be careful anyway.”

She rummages around the cabinet they pointed at, pulling out a downright cartoonish vial. She holds it up to them.

They give her a thumbs up, before crumpling under the more insistent contraction that grips them. Eggabell sits them up, letting them lean against her instead of a table leg.

“Might be a bad time, but do you have an idea of measurements?” Liz asks.

Floofty responds with a snarl.

She just nods back.

Eggabell receives a slightly different treatment, their aggression forgotten when she gently rubs their taut belly. Her cool paws bring comfort to their aching skin. Soon they're purring.

“Youu-” they attempt to advise, “add the bb..bluro-... the smallest bottle. Two milliliters.”

Floofty pushes, while Liz does as instructed. As the contraction ends, they regain their ability to speak.

“Dilute it with saline. Doesn't matter how much.” They point to the always ready bottle on the desk nearby.

“And after that?” She asks as she mixes. Liz is worried about Floofty's body giving out, but they keep getting interrupted.

“Add four mil of-” they hum through the tight grip of a contraction, “Mm- of the-”

“You can tell us the name and what it does in ‘various’ combos when there isn't an egg in your cunt!”

“ Fuck you.” Is the best insult Floofty can toss back at her. They whimper and nuzzle into Eggabell. They are so overwhelmed.

“Liz, be patient.” She scolds. “You can sign the letters if you know it.”

Floofty just growls in response.

With her paws comforting their contracting belly, Floofty's are free to move. They put their fingers together and thumb out on their left paw, placing their right pointer finger on the “corner”.

Eggabell blinks in confusion, but Liz seems to get it. The yellow is added to the mixture.

“Auslan, baby! Or.. Gritish sign, yeah?”

Floofty nods.

“The letter Y is the same, at least. How much of the last?”

They put up 5 fingers, before abandoning communication in favor of pushing one giant egg out of them. It makes a thunk as it hits the towel.

Liz drops five milliliters of green goop into the beaker, and a puff of smoke bursts out of it, yet splashing nothing.

 She kneels next to Floofty.

“I don't know what you do with it, but it's here.”

Floofty snatches the beaker out of her paws, gulping down a substance they had previously told her to take precautions for.

They scrunch up their face in disgust…

But after a few seconds pass, it appears that the swelling has stopped.

Eggabell prods their stomach.

“Doesn't feel like there's too much movement, but there are still a lot of eggs.”

Floofty feels another contraction growing. They groan in exasperation.

“Hey, at least there's actually an end in sight!” Liz offers. Floofty is still grimacing.

“Here, Liz, switch with me. If they're running out of steam I can help… on the egg side of things.”

Eggabell slides out from behind Floofty, Liz sitting down to take her place. Now Eggabell is the one wearing (fresh) gloves.

“Good grump , Elizabert.” Floofty complains.

“What? Are you okay?”

“How could you possibly be this emaciated?”

“...Remember the whole ‘stuck in a cave and then on an island with poison for food’ thing?” She says, flatly.

Floofty gestures to Eggabell, who looks up at them from between their legs. A perfectly fat grumpus who went through the situation with her.

“Well! I just- there are reasons she recovered faster than me.” Liz sputters.

Sexy kinky reasons. Everyone knows about her feedism kink, right?

“Ffffix it.” Floofty mumbles, much to the surprise of Liz.

“Excuse me?” Liz blushes as she tries to dissect the implications of that.

She doesn't have time to think about it before Floofty is leaning back against her and pushing.

This egg gives them trouble. It's stuck right at their opening for what feels like eons. Eggabell uses only two fingers to check its progress at first… finding very quickly she can fit her whole paw inside to manipulate the egg as needed. Floofty squeaks at every movement, squirming into her touch.

Eggabell moves carefully and slowly so as to not arouse them too much, she can't bear to make them have that conversation with her on the same day they lay more than a dozen eggs… but despite her efforts, Floofty's whines grow desperate.

“P-please.” Floofty begs.

“Please what, Floofty?” Eggabell asks. It comes out more stern than she was intending, stern enough that Liz has to look away and stifle her automatic response.

“Touch m- I can't take it-” they mumble, looking almost ready to pass out.

One of her paws goes from holding Floofty’s leg to gently stimulating them. 

Only a few seconds after she begins, Floofty is brought to orgasm, their bucking hips and tense body finally pushing the egg out.

The egg after that is smaller, easier, and striped with pink and green. She wipes off the egg and places it in their nest. Next, an even smaller, lace patterned egg. The pattern continues until the last egg, about the size of a large marble, and resembles a pearl. She sets it on the very top of the pile.

Floofty slumps back, exhausted. 

Eggabell feels their belly, despite their discomfort. Then their cervix, happily finding it's already contracting back to normal.

“Hey, I'm pretty sure you're all done. We can clean you up and you can take a nap.”

“Thank grump,” they mumble, mustering up a singular drop of enthusiasm.

With a lot of help, and the retrieval of their leg, Floofty manages to stand up and leave the puddle of their fluids behind to go upstairs.

Chapter Text

Liz brings their brood upstairs with them in a laundry basket.

She goes back down to help Eggabell clean, only to be stopped.

“Go make sure Floofty stays okay. I can handle cleaning up.”

“But Bell, they're this close to biting me when I touch them!”

“Liz, I'm going to be honest.” Eggabell sighs. “I don't trust you to be normal with the pregnancy juice.”

“What!? I can- it's not- I can totally - we found a quick cure I can just-”

Eggabell shakes her head.

“Yeah you're probably right.”

“Back up there. Go make Floofty some food or tuck them in.”

“But their bone crushing teeeeeeth !” Liz whines.

“Don't put your bones in their mouth, then,”

Liz relents, heading back upstairs to Floofty.

They've made a small nest to study their eggs in just out of their throw pillows and the towel she left them with, but it's not exactly glamorous.

Lizbert doesn't even ask before finding a blanket to give them.

They happily take it, covering themself and  snuggling in, before picking up one of the slightly more grumpus-looking eggs.

She notices a little bit of… something not happy behind Floofty's goggles.

“Need more?”

Floofty hums in thought.

“Could you… get me the quilt from my bed?” They ask, hesitant.

She nods nonchalantly. Forcibly nonchalant.

Liz wouldn't snoop on purpose, especially on a day like today… but she's an observant enough grumpus to notice a plush toy fall off the bed when she takes the blanket. Especially when the weighted beans in it make that distinct noise when hitting the ground. It's the only toy in the room besides a couple hand crafted gadgets on their shelf.

She picks up the stuffed bunny, intending to put it right back where she found it… but she recognizes what it is once she feels the texture.

A nesting doll. Not a nest ed doll, one for grumps that are nesting, but with nothing to nest. Liz has one, too. 

Medically prescribed, because of how horrible her hormones had gotten after an extremely unpleasant series of events.

There's… not exactly a stigma around having plushies, but it's pretty taboo to carry one in a pouch. It's a little sad.

She doesn't know why they have it in the first place, but she knows that today Floofty has just given birth with no babies to show for it.

Liz tucks the bunny inside the quilt and bundles it like she’s grabbed it and the bunny without noticing.

Back to the living room. 

She dumps the comfy blanket over Floofty's head, a smile forming when they squawk.

“Elizabert!” They quickly unmuffle themself, up to their neck in blanket.

“Get comfy, mate.”

They seem to be attempting to find a complaint in their sputtering, eventually snuggling up and mumbling “thank you.”

“Hey, with the state of your nest downstairs it'd be cruel not to let you scratch that itch.”

“Itch?”

“The urge. Instinct. When y’get nesty for particularly egg-shaped rocks, I know how it goes.”

“Egg-shaped rocks appear to be the identities of everything I've excreted today.” Floofty sprinkles a healthy amount of bitterness to their words.

Liz grimaces.

Floofty returns to inspecting eggs.

Lizbert sits down on the opposite end of the couch to share the silence with them.

A yellow egg is placed in the left hand pile after appraisal. A purple egg is placed in a separate pile. The pearl is placed in the left pile.

“...sorry.” They finally say, bringing their arms into their blanket cave. They must be holding their plush.

It catches Liz off guard.

“For what?” 

…are they going to try and apologize for all the tension and arguments they've inadvertently caused? On a day like today? 

“For… for orgasming on your wife.”

Close enough. Liz bursts into laughter.

“Floofty, she's the one who stuck her entire paw in your cunt!”

They shrink into their blankets, a soft giggle. They know it's ridiculous too.

“You were right there , Liz.”

“Exactly. If Eggabell went behind my back and did something, then I'd be mad. You were leaning right against my chest. Squirming.”

Floofty blushes madly. 

“Ohhh noo~ My doctor wife has to treat a sexy illness, I gotta be so mad at the patient when she goes and feels them up,” she mimes grabbing something round, making a fart noise to add to it

“You- you've made your point.” They hide their face in their paws.

“You're smiling.”

“I am. Because you're… bothersome.”

Liz leans a little closer to them. Not quite close enough for her to touch them… but they can push her away if they reach.

“Yknow, I could be mad at you, if you want. Call you dirty names and grab you by the bow tie.”

Floofty laughs nervously.

“Elizabert, please. The amount of times I've orgasmed today is in the double digits. I can't bear to become aroused again.”

She leans back.

“Alright, alright.  I'll leave you alone. I just wanted to make it clear how okay I am with this.”

“It's… appreciated. I feel anxious to the point of irrational thoughts.” They grimace.

…their expression turns to confusion for a moment, and they look down. Then back to Liz. It's fine.

They share silence for a moment.

…Liz gets up.

She returns with a bowl of chips. She has a couple, before handing the bowl off to Floofty.

Popcorn chips, a weird health nut food they've switched to to avoid bugsnak memories.

They happily munch, a little faint from the ordeal still. With their paws out of the blankets, Liz spots a pair of bunny ears sticking out from their pouch.

And she wasn't subtle enough about looking. Now they know she knows.

They tuck the ears inside, hidden from view… but they look embarrassed.

“I have one too.” She says quickly.

Floofty pauses, allowing their bunny to sit like it normally does. They nod.

“Of course you do.”

She blinks.

“What's that supposed to mean?!”

“I've happened upon you in a nest licking an unconscious Gigglefunny.”

…

…

“Did I.. did I really do that?”

Floofty nods again.

Liz covers her face with her paws.

“Oh nooo that's so. Oh grump. That's sad .”

“It must have been good for both of you.” Floofty smiles, “though the fact you do not remember this is telling,”

Liz sputters in embarrassment. “Do you remember laying even half of these guys?”

Floofty surveys the two dozen-ish eggs.

“ Perhaps the first three.”

“Oh, that's impressive.”

“I hadn't yet succumbed to hedonistic levels of pleasure.” Floofty says with a laugh.

“What are you gonna do with them?”

Floofty suddenly looks a little like they're about to cry. Then confused as to why they’re crying immediately after laughing… before succumbing to the full extent of the mood swing.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have asked.”

“It's. A reasonable question. They're essentially useless to me after I dissect them.” They look bitter, tears drip from behind their goggles. “Apologies, I am- experiencing a hormonal rush- I…”

“About your clutch. It’s totally normal to be emotional about that… especially since…”

“None of them look… promising.” Floofty finishes. “I- I'm not prepared, I know. But…”

“You were hoping for a baby, yeah?”

Floofty nods. They sink into the blankets as they start to sob.

“Hey, I get it,”

They barely seem to listen, pulling their goggles off and muttering…

“It hurts.”

Liz takes a chance, and wraps her arms around them in the carefullest hug she can manage.

Floofty hugs her back, pulling her into their little nest and leaning into her chest. They fully tuck her in next to them. The two of them sit, tears flowing, with their gangly arms wrapped around her, resting on one of the pillows they haphazardly grabbed to try and incorporate her into the nest.

It's at this time, Eggabell returns from downstairs. 

She sits on the couch, in one of the rare empty spaces next to Floofty. She gently pulls the blanket up over their shoulders, and rubs their back. Mindful of the nest’s structural integrity, she leans into Floofty, applying a gentle, comforting pressure to them. Squish that grump.

They calm down, mostly. Still hiccuping and sniffling. 

Eggabell makes eye contact with Liz over Floofty’s head, a questioning look. 

“Bell, we're spiking their buddy’s drink the first chance we get.”

Floofty giggles into her fur.

“Nooooooo,” they weakly protest.

“Don't care how. Gotta get him pregnant.”

“He'd hate that.” They laugh a little harder. “N’ I don’t think he has the tools.”

“He is a tool”

“Nooooooo,” despite their giggles.

Eggabell gently pats their back.

“Oh grump. Thank you for tolerating my hormonal surge.” They wipe their eyes, pulling a little bit away from Liz.

“Oh, nuh-uh. You're taking yourself at least a little seriously.” Eggabell scolds.

They grumble.

“You're a big broody crybaby.” Liz teases, ruffling their hair.

“ You are.” They’re smiling, making no attempt to escape her grip.

“So is our rivalry over?”

“Obviously not. Get a divorce, now.”

Eggabell laughs so hard she snorts. A lovely noise Floofty purrs just hearing after such a long day.

…before Floofty’s smile drops again, looking down and around, concerned.

“You alright, mate?”

“I believe so…”

Liz looks at them, expecting more.

“I keep hearing something move!”

She lets them go as they slink off the couch and out of the nest to investigate. 

When they start rifling through their clutch, Eggabell jumps to her medical bag to grab a stethoscope.

Floofty, on the carpet on their hands and knees, spreads out their eggs and listens to each one.

Eggabell makes a valiant attempt to help, going through egg by egg with her steth, until Floofty yanks it out of her ears to focus on one purple egg.

“In here!” They mutter, leaning over and inspecting the little one. When they aren't holding it, it shakes ever so slightly.

“They're making noise!” Floofty says frantically.

Eggabell gently gestures for them to give her stethoscope back, and she checks as well. There's a tiny, muffled peep from inside.

“Holy mother of grump-” Eggabell says, shocked, “A squeaker!”

The sound of a baby ready to hatch. It usually takes at least a month after birth for a baby to hatch!!

Lizbert gets up to get more towels. So many towels. So much goop today. It's a wonder Floofty has enough in their house.

Floofty excitedly watches the little egg wiggle…. poking, turning it a little. Once again, on the floor with an egg looking downright feral. They tap on the shell with a fingernail, and Eggabell makes a hum of concern.

“That sounds thick.”

Floofty looks terrified.

“I've heard thicker, but it almost sounds like hard plastic.”

They know they shouldn't help. A grumpling too weak to break a shell is often so weak that help might kill it… but this isn't Chandlo’s baby! There's no way it can break through this!

Baby… Floofty's baby… they can get used to that.

When Liz comes back with towels and one of the smaller blankets they stashed away, they start crying again. They need to wrap the baby NOW!!!!!

“It's okay, it's okay.” Eggabell coos. This time the steth is handed off peacefully, “listen to it,”

Floofty tries to listen. Both to her and to the grumpling. It peeps and scratches. It taps back. It grunts. The tiniest squeak Floofty has ever heard in their life.

A whimper before a moment of silence snaps something in Floofty's brain. 

They lunge for the egg, taking it in their teeth before either witness can stop them. Both shout forms of “stop” and “don't!”

“Don't eat your baby!”

It's the perfect diameter for the egg to just have the very widest points press into the corners of their blunt, flat tusks. They bite gently… then harder. Even harder still, until a vicious crack sounds.

Eggabell idly compares it to a skull being opened surgically.

A crack from their top teeth and two from their bottom teeth spreads in an instant, perfectly halving the eggshell. It falls out of their mouth, the grumpling doing the last step, wriggling until the halves separate and it's free. A couple coughs, and it starts to wail. Loudly.

Pinkish purple with a yellow nose, exactly like Floofty.

Floofty scoops up their baby, licking the barely more than a pawful sized thing clean of goop.

The shell left behind is almost an inch thick. The fact Floofty could break it, let alone hear movement within, is a testament to the raw parental instincts pumping through Floofty’s nerves right now.

“Okay. Intervention was needed.” Is all Eggabell can medically comment on.

“Baby.” Floofty says. What a meaningful observation! They take their plush bunny from their pouch and toss it behind them, landing on the couch with the sound of beans. They put their little grumpling in their pouch instead. 

The loud crying from healthy lungs quiets as soon as they latch on for a first meal.

Liz leans to get a better look at the surprise baby, “Floofty when the fuck did you start lactating?”

….

“Just now.”

Liz makes an almost indescribable face between concern, confusion, and affection.

Flooftys phone rings.

Eggabell answers it, and even before she puts it on speakerphone everyone can hear the panicked rambling of Floofty's alien colleague.

“-you alright? By the stars I am so sorry did your reverse engineering work have you synthesized the reverse agent I have the recipe if you need it I can send supplies with a matter transporter or even-”

“Dude, shut up they're fine.” Liz snaps.

“I-” he sputters for a moment, “are you sure? No swelling? No abnormal growth? No-”

“Gibson.” Floofty interrupts, “I have a baby.”

“They figured out how to stop giving birth to duds on their own.”

“Oh my god. I'm so sorry?” He says, “Wait, you wanted a baby.. so.. I don't apologize? I apologize for the… duds?”

“Holy shit Gibson totally got his muppet friend pregnant!” An unfamiliar voice shouts from Gibson's end, presumably across the room.

“I did not!” He protests.

“You kinda did,” Eggabell shrugs. ‘His muppet friend’ giggles.

As Gibson sputters, Floofty takes their baby out to appraise it. …

Only one hand. That’s a surprise. They gently touch the nub where the left paw should be, but the baby has no negative response. It's okay. In fact, they can see no differences between this and photos of themself at the same age… besides the obvious.

“This is my baby. They share no traits with anyone but me. Shut up.” Floofty says with a growl.

“Yeah Gibson shut up,” the teasing voice says to his friend.

“I'll send you pictures of the little one when neither of us are covered in slime.”

“...alright. You seem to be taking this sudden addition quite well.”

Liz laughs, “They're soooo drunk on mama hormones.” 

“Ah. I'll leave them be then.” He says, his teasing friend still laughing in the background, “if there are any ill effects please do not hesitate to contact me for help.”

“Byeeeeee” Liz hangs up first, and tries to joke to Floofty, “Grump, he talks just like you.”

But Floofty is far too distracted just looking at their baby to engage in conversation.

Their baby.