#Hand knitted fawn plush

[admin-cock-creations]

Date a Merc: Chapter 7

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Pairing: Demoman / Reader Summary: Date a Demoman who loves kissing your chest and tummy and making you feel sexy. Warnings: (18+) Sexual Content

"Tavish... this really isn't - ah!"

You were interrupted by another gasp as the Scottishman's mouth found your nipple and his teeth briefly sank into the sensitive flesh, derailing your train of thought. The man has been working all evening to get you to finally be quiet and relax into bliss as he pampered your body with affection.

Someone had made an unwelcome comment about your appearance earlier in the day, and while you tried not to let such things bother you, your boyfriend clearly wasn't going to stand for it. His mission seemed clear; to make you feel at sexy and as gorgeous as he knew you to be. His tools for such a job? Nothing more than his mouth and his hands.

You laid back, sprawled amongst a sea of soft furs, hand knit blankets and plush pillows, your eyes shut and your teeth digging into your lower lip as Tavish fawned over you like an artist mulling over his masterpiece. His hands almost molded you like wet clay, his mouth kissing along every inch of skin, every blemish and stretch mark and scar, unyielding in his quest to make you feel sexy.

“Tav,” you breathed out, but couldn’t find yourself finishing the thought as that rich brown eye gazed up at you without faltering in his ministrations.

It was strange to think of yourself as sexy, or even hot. You’d become so accustomed to hearing quite the opposite all your life, so imagine your shock when someone like Tavish swept you up and showered you in such outlandish compliments.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, trying not to succumb entirely to the passionate work of your lover as he kissed and stroked every inch of your torso. But you found yourself with your eyes wide open as you glanced at the ceiling, a strange new feeling swirling in your gut.

“When did you get the mirror?”

He didn’t answer simply humming with gentle laughter against your stomach as he circled kisses around your bellybutton, leaving you almost shellshocked as you stare at your reflection.

You’d never seen yourself like this before. You’d heard of people getting mirrors involved during sex, but it had always seemed such a strange and narcissistic thing to you. But now... it opened your eyes, in a way.

Watching your body heave with whimpers and moan, seeing your skin flush, watching Tavish so eagerly kiss and stroke along your body. It was incredibly new and arousing to watch this familiar act in a new perspective, and admittedly, you began to open your eyes to what your lover was always saying to you. You were sexy. You were stunning and gorgeous and all those other adjectives he so often used to describe you.

Watching yourself, you couldn't help but be overcome with a wave of arousal, eyes rolling back in your skull as you let a deep, guttural moan claw free from your chest and roll past your lips. Your hands curled into your lover’s soft locks, a newfound swell of pride filling your chest at the sound of him grunting against your flesh.

“What I tell ye?” Tavish grinned against your sternum, kissing his way up to your neck as he settled himself betwixt your thighs. One of his hands found your own, fingers intertwining as he used the other to adjust himself at your entrance.

Your eyes opened once more, gazing at the reflective surface of the ceiling just as Tavish arched his back and hilted himself within you, drawing another moan from your lips.

“Fuck... I think you may have been onto something with all the compliments.”

[maisiit]

PLUSH

WOO before midnight lets go! One thing I want to mention, a lot of these written works for G/T July are from my own G/T worldbuilding universes, but I will also write out of universe ones too

Hermine looked towards the children on the cushioned chair, who lay resting silently covered by the soft handmade blanket of a mountain ram’s wool. 

Her son was content and warm alongside his sister, absorbing the warmth provided from their clothing and the cover, which protected them from the nipping cold which begged like a vampire to be let in. That was all that mattered to her. 

What she found amusing was the way her daughter held her brother like a doll, considering the size between them. 

Her daughter, Lotti, was a bit shorter than the average Riese. Her son however, Klemens, was a human, but was about the average height of his kind for his age. What made his appearance more doll-like was not just the classic blonde hair and blue eyes that many German humans had, but he had rosy cheeks no matter the temperature dappled with freckles like a doe’s fawn. 

She smiled at the thought of her little son being a fawn. As the fire was midway between burning out and alive, she tossed in another piece of firewood, causing it to roar to life again as if it were a phoenix arising from its ashes. 

She slowly sat back in her chair from across her children, picking up the knitting needles that were halfway in progress of forming a vest that her daughter wanted, continuing the task at hand as she admired her joyous creations. This was all she needed, they were all she needed—just them three.

[callsign-mimic]

Meet Mimic!

(My CoD OC, not me lol)

Lieutenant Renee "Mimic" Foster

(Edit because I forgot to tag @charliemwrites so that Captain Castle Alistair has some idea as to why this creature is so skittish around him. And also so Charlie can squee about her more.)

Name: Renee "Mimic" Foster

Rank: Lieutenant

Aliases: Mimic, Bunny, Maus, Fawn, The Bard, The human equivalent of a Capybara

Official Callsign: Mimic

Age: 34

Gender/Pronouns/Sexuality: AFAB Agender, she/he/they (predominately uses she/her because it's easier and she doesn't actually give a fuck), Pansexual, Panromantic (Gender is meaningless to a mimic).

Marital Status: Officially Single, Unofficially has enough partners to start several sports teams.

Height: 5'6"

Weight: 250lbs of combined fat and muscle. Don't let her plush exterior fool you, she can and will throw down if she has to. She has plenty of thigh, tit, tum, and ass to be the perfect pillow as well. Built for cuddles, but can and will kick your ass.

Hair: Dark brown bordering on black, length ends just between shoulder blades, soft natural waves

Eyes: Pale blue, almost grey in color. Needs corrective lenses to see. Whether she uses contacts or glasses depends on mission requirements.

Personality/Quirks:

AuDHD. Inattentive and hella quiet. Loud, boisterous, and super expressive when hyper.

Wears a choke chain collar outside of missions. Is it a kink thing? No. She likes the weight of it and the sounds it makes when she moves. Can it be a kink thing? Absolutely.

Uncannily laid back and unbothered by most things. It takes a lot to make her angry. Rusty started comparing her to a capybara and often affectionately refers to her as "Capy".

Was in drama, choir, and band. Could definitely have gotten a considerably safer job as that voice actor that surprises you by being the voice of multiple completely different sounding characters.

Terrifyingly perceptive. Her peripheral vision is good enough that she can be sitting right next to a mark and not have to turn to look at them to give updates on their movements.

Practically a shape-shifter. Specializes in infiltration and espionage because she has the energy of an NPC and can integrate herself into most settings so well it just seems natural for her to be there. Need her to be sweet and bubbly? Done. Need an aggressive, short king with a Russian accent? She's got you. Surprisingly androgynous for someone with almost hyper-feminine features.

Fluent in English (native language), German, Russian, and Spanish. Teaching herself Japanese because she is an easily bored millennial weeb.

Sub leaning switch who can dish it out until her targets are puddles, but gets sheepish and flustered the minute she's given a genuine compliment (Stripper likes to make her a squirming mess by whispering praises into her ear while he has a tight hold around her waist. When she can't form proper words anymore is when the kisses start).

A ruthless, efficient killer on missions. Total prey animal off duty.

Sweet as. Will give you the shirt off her back if you need it. Always down to provide cuddles for comfort, a shoulder to cry on, or an ear to vent to.

Mom friend. Somehow ends up being the unofficial den mother of every team she works with (except her own, because Big Papa has the parenting handled for the three little goblins ❤️). She has zero issues with this.

The type of person who thinks being low maintenance is a good thing. Very rarely asks for help or support. Big Papa is the only person she (currently) trusts enough to let him take care of her. If you try to take care of her, she will make up some lame excuse to get away, or try to redirect your attention to something else.

Has all of the hobbies of a grandmother. Can knit, crochet, cross-stitch, embroider, sew, cook, and bake. Also does woodworking, works on cars, and makes weapons (yes, doing the forging and smithing herself). As previously stated, she gets bored easily.

Already has arthritis in her hands because she uses them pretty much nonstop.

[witchcraftingboop]

Late Night Thoughts: Ancestors I Knew

Occasionally, I find myself thinking of when my great grandmothers were alive.

My father's mother's mother was fierce and protective. She would rule the household with an iron fist one moment and then the next be turning around with a soft, loving grin and feeding me greasy, tasty morsels off her plate, whispering of secrets, familial and spiritual. She taught me much, despite our on-again, off-again language barriers. I knew her until my late teens; we had developed a translation system of sorts between the two of us, when her languages were more unsteady, one of hands and looks and vessels. I reveled in her presence, in the way she carried her craft and her history with her as a cloak about her shoulders, and she scolded any of my cousins who tried to unravel our family's traditions or their beginnings. She had a way of glancing at you, of imparting with words that what's done is done; existence, perseverance is all. She was smaller than everyone by more than a few heads, but her existence was radiance.

My father's father's mother I called "the middle" when I was younger - her non-English name being too complex for me to pronounce, but she loved the nicknames all the same - was very similar. She'd whack my grandfather and his brother with her solid wood cane for touching her sweets and then scoop the same treat up in a napkin on her palms to deposit on my plate. She'd glare with barely muted thunderous rage at them and pat my head while she spoke of, in part, what's now more akin to the idea of the divine feminine/masculine - though from her ways, more closely related to yin and yang and existence. Often, her gaze would grow distant, and all at once she would emphatically urge my sister and I to grow up strong, independent, soft only for those who proved themselves, and then smile easily, already diverting from questions she didn't want to answer. She loved our strong names, and she would expend all her energy fawning over us, tying charms into knots in our hair, singing soft melodies in her native tongue. Without fail, she always saved a bit of herself to club her sons for wrestling in her living room one last time and then usher us out, swatting and blowing at invisible evil eyes crowding our crowns as we went.

My mother's mother's mother, I barely remember. I remember her home more than anything. The pale yellow paint on the outside, the picket fence, the row of herbs growing in the window above her kitchen sink, the cinnamon and spice scented cabinet where she hid her best treats for her grandchildren. I remember the scratchy softness of her plush sofa beneath my palms and the click of her knitting needles over the hum of her space heater. Admittedly, it is hard to think of her. I cannot forget the slow back and forth motion of her rocking chair, bumped by one of my flustered aunts perhaps, gliding, creaking, moving as if breathing, as she'd lain motionless in her bed. In my mind's eye, I can see her puffy, wrinkled cheeks on either side of a thin-lipped, red and mischievous grin. And vaguely, I hear her gradual, light chuckle against my ear. She was a good hugger, I think, and from what others tell me, she loved to laugh and pull pranks, on strangers and loved ones alike. I did not know her long, but it feels accurate to think of her as such.

When my sisters and I grow older, I hope we are similar. I hope we carry the same impactful, quiet reserve of strength that my great grandmothers had. Selfishly, I hope we have more answers as well.

[gojology]

Job Benefits. (Part One)

new beginnings ‧₊˚✩彡. - chapter one.

you can find part two here : part two : undesirable

pairing : ceo! gojo x female reader

warnings : cursing

wordcount : 1960

a/n : something that i’ve been working on for a while now. this is self indulgent as all hell and i’m starting a new series n idk when it’ll end necessarily but ceo gojo is all i need in my life. also i have like 300 million requests to go through but i PROMISE i’ll get them done! i just need to finish my valentines event thingy and i’ll be open! 

it has come to my attention that gojo is his surname and i’m too lazy to fix anything other then the first name basis part im so sorry LOl

         It’s no secret that you like working the office.      Even as a child you enjoyed the formal atmosphere when you walked into your parent’s workplace, and even better, you enjoyed organizing stuff. Growing up, your favorite pass time was cleaning and organizing which caused you to excel in school, coupled with your natural smarts. Your peers would constantly tease you, telling you that you were a boring kid- but hey, you’d be making lots of money, and what better job would there be for you, aside from being someone’s secretary?      Those were the first words that came across your mind as soon as you stepped into the prestigious building, heels rhythmically hitting the stainless floor, suitcase in hand. It was also the first lie that you’d tell yourself in there.      You had known about this company even as a child. One that sold just about everything, the most notable being luxurious clothing, but something the company was also well known for? How attractive the family was.      Sure it was a bit weird, but in defense of the general public their appearances were rare, only once in a while you’d see the family on TV. Waving in their limousine, blowing kisses and doing things rich people do, or maybe ignoring the cheering crowd of journalists and news reporters, hell like you knew.     Catching glimpses of the wildly white haired family was something every paparazzi threw themselves at, and picking up a magazine or going to search something on the internet would be sure to be chock full of pictures of the esteemed family. The highlight of the family being the son, just because of how handsome he was, and also happened to be the most publicly known and fawned over family member-     Gojo fucking Satoru.      Luckily for you, he was your boss, so you could probably reveal the tiniest of secrets and make major bank. Unluckily for you, he was childish as all hell, not to mention you found childish people incredibly annoying. The worst thing? You were his secretary.      That could only spell out doom for a man like him, and a woman like you, who only wanted to get business done and nothing else. You two truly did not mix.     Two months prior, you had gotten the job and was finally excited to have stable income after graduating. Your hirers didn’t tell you anything about having to babysit a manchild though.     And so, that’s how you found yourself sitting in the comfortable plush leather office chair, fumbling under the piles of paperwork and fan letters, cursing your boss’s name under your breath for being so unconcerned with work. Scheduling appointments, interviews, sending e-mails of unacceptance to eager authors asking to write an auto-biography, that was your life.      You’d be content with it if your boss was normal.      As soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s like he heard you think.     “(Y/N)-chan~!” you hear a familiar sing-songy voice down the rather short hallway. Your office resided right next to his, and it would only take him 30 seconds or so to walk down to your door, presumably to annoy the hell out of you. You grunt, blowing a stray hair out of your face.     This also meant that you could hear him sing from his office, even through the thick walls.      Choosing to ignore it, you instead furiously typed to another business executive’s secretary who had just emailed you about a meeting between Gojo and- well you weren’t quite sure who.      “(Y/N)-chan~ I know you hear me, don’t you know it’s disrespectful to not listen to your seniors?” his playful, deep voice was growing closer, and you straighten your back, sighing. You didn’t sign up to be a daycare worker, yet this was what you found yourself doing most of the time.      “I’m sorry, Satoru-sama, please instill me with your great knowledge, oh wise one.” rolling your eyes and rubbing your temples, you glance up from your laptop, bracing yourself for whatever would happen next. Gojo leaned on the frame of your door, head ducking slightly. He was way too tall to walk under it without any issue.      He was unnecessarily calm though, normally he’d be jumping around your office, making a mess of things, but his body language told otherwise. He was slacking off from his duties, obviously, so you weren’t too sure why he’d be acting so... Chill.     With his arms crossed, he gave you a mischievous side eye.     Growing impatient, you stand up, your knuckles grinding against the tabletop. Your brow knitted together as he peered down on you, almost tauntingly, and you hated it.  “Listen, boss. I have a lot to do today, for you, might I add as I am your secretary- and if you’re going to sit around I don’t think I’ll get to these emails and phone calls and everything fast enough. May I kindly assist you with anything? If not I’ll have to ask you to go back to... Whatever you were doing.”      Gojo looked at you, wide-eyed and unblinking, like he didn’t expect such a sassy remark. “Oh my, sweetie. Someone has a naughty mouth... To your boss of all people? How mean! I don’t think I remember putting, ‘allowed to be rude to the Satoru clan’ down on the job benefits.. What’s with the formal tone as well? So unnecessary, just be yourself when you’re talking to me.”     He sauntered closer to your desk, and your breath hitched, this was one of the first times you’d seen him up close like this, and you swore that you could hear your heart beating rapidly inside of your chest. You don’t know what that could mean; but what you did know was that you wanted to slap him or punch a hole into the glass window right behind you and throw him off the 15 floor building. Leaning in close to your ear, he whispered:      “Or, if you wanna stick with the business voice- call me sir. Got that?”     You nod before looking down at your desk, feeling your body heat up for seemingly no particular reason. Did this guy have any knowledge of a private bubble? Whatever, this was your superior. If it was any boss you’d probably be fired by now. You were lucky to be forgiven.     “Yes, sir. May I comment on something... Er, sir?”     “I’m all ears.” standing back up from leaning over your incredibly messy desk, you looked up at him, he looked down at you in response, with beady little “innocent” eyes through his circular shades.      “I didn’t mean to be sassy, I only wish for this relationship to be professional and nothing else.... I, um, truly do apologize and I ask for your forgiveness.” you studied the wall as you say this, fidgeting with your hands and the hem of your pencil skirt. It was a bit awkward to talk to him as if he wasn’t a kid, but it did feel certainly refreshing.      “Is that so?” you turn your head to look back at him as a sign of respect, an eyebrow of his is raised, and a smug smirk is playing at his lips. He talked with such an aura of arrogance around him, you instantly regret being respectful. Yet, you restrain yourself from slapping that stupid smirk off his stupidly handsome face.      Why did all the handsome ones have to be so annoying?      Fuck, no, that wasn’t meant to be a compliment. Even though it was only in your mind, you felt so embarrassed, and had no idea why. It wasn’t like he could read your thoughts, and it was just a mindless compliment, nothing flirtatious about it.       Finally, he spoke. “Aw. (Y/N), I knew we picked well when we hired you. So respectful and professional! What more can I ask for out of a secretary? I humbly accept your apology- but first please do something for me.” he whistled in the other direction as he picked up one of your cute stationary pens, hastily sliding it into his blazer’s pockets.     “Yes, sir?” you brace yourself for impact yet again. Not noticing that he stole one of your favorite pens.     “Slack off a little. None of my secretaries ever worked this hard. I’ll slide in an extra hour for lunch, you can go watch a movie or something-”      “No. Satoru. Contrary to your other secretaries, I actually enjoy work.” standing up now, you stomp over to Gojo, who was now giggling like a 7 year old girl. You hadn’t realized that you had called him by his first name, but honorifics wasn’t on your mind right now.     Your chest stuck out as you shoved him out of your office with your bare hands, maybe as a way of looking more threatening, as if that’d ever work against him.     “Get out of my office!” You hope your eyes are staring daggers, if he ever looked back at you.     Gojo looked at you like he was shocked, tipping his shades down just slightly as you were pushing him out into the hallway. As if he didn’t believe what he was seeing, so he had to see it with his actual eyes- but eventually laughed before accepting his eventual fate.      “On a first name basis now, aren’t we? You’re straightforward! I like straightforward girls though, it works out in your favor.”     “Shut it.”      He made sure to stiffen once in a while just to piss you off so that you couldn’t push him as easily, and before long he was back to his office.       “Cya (Y/N)!” giving you a wave and a wink, he grinned. “I’ll be sure to visit you again, your office is fun!”       That was just one of the unusual interactions that Gojo Satoru had with you, but you knew now that it certainly wouldn’t be the last.  ‧₊˚✩彡.      It didn’t take you long before you realized your favorite pen was gone.       Almost immediately, you figured out who the thief was.       It was evident by now that your relationship between you and your boss wasn’t normal, to say the least. You just couldn’t quite wrap your head around why he stole a cute carrot pen, it certainly wasn’t his style. Well, you weren’t quite sure honestly, but the way the magazine front covers posed him was... Sexual.       Maybe the hot guy liked cute carrot pens and was too scared to buy them by himself, but, it was 2021. Toxic masculinity was basically extinct.      This wasn’t on his mind when he stole your pen, though. Gojo Satoru was smart when he wanted to be. To be quite honest, he just wanted to annoy you more. It made him curious, how could one enjoy work? And be cute at the same time?     The logic made no sense to him. Attending meetings, doing interviews- this was all very boring work to Satoru, and he couldn’t wrap his head around that you enjoyed that. He hadn’t asked to inherit the company, but yet here he was now. Shit, maybe he’d ask you if you wanted the company.      He yawned before drinking his coffee, just how he liked it before taking a sip he straightened his tie, just to make sure he looked extra clean and fresh when you busted down the door, ruffling his fluffy white hair as he did so.     Gojo hated the work environment, just to be straightforward. One thing he did enjoy was the complementary luxury coffee machine, alongside several sugar packets. Placing his impossibly long stick-like legs onto the table, he sighed happily.      Cute girl being his secretary, drinking yummy coffee, the sun rays warming up the back of his head, he was truly living the life.     And then he heard it.      Loud steps against the tile floor.      And then, his door flung open.         

[toyarchive]

MaricatCrafts - Hand knitted fawn

- This little deer is a hand made plush created by the talented  https://www.etsy.com/au/shop/MaricatCrafts   Please check them out ^.^

Features: Is a soft knitted plush fawn with jointed legs which can be moved around and a fluffy tail. embroidered eyes, is made from Incredibly soft alpaca and mohair yarn.

Size: from tip of tail to nose 50cm long and 34cm high from hoof to top of head. (Large plush)

Date: 2021

[witchyjamjo]

i’m sorry but i saw knives out last night (twICE) and i have not been able to think straight since then.

because all i see is how much of an asshole ransom must have been in college. like, can you picture the complete and utter asshole that every girl fawns over despite how horrible he is? he’s the man that all your friends gab and gab about, about how they just want to get to know him a little better – maybe he’s not really an asshole and he’s a good person. but you know the truth, and you never want to see the likes of ransom on campus.

the horrible thing is that he definitely has the same major as you – english literature. and you can’t stand being in all the same classes as this rich and pompous jerk who flirts with every girl willing to bat their eyelashes at him, and then subsequently leaves them without so much as a text message.

so, when you’re partnered with him for a final project for the semester, you couldn’t hate your professor more. you even email the guy after the lecture and tell him that it’s probably better if you didn’t work with ransom – since your professor knew your writing interests were so different than his. the professor’s response? “consider it a challenge! grading won’t be too harsh.” and you know you’ve lost the battle.

so, the next few weeks are filled with trips to his ‘swanky’ apartment uptown – which is a good 20 minute drive away from campus. but of course, his defense is that it’s so much quieter and you can actually hear yourself think in his apartment. so, you go along with it. and you let yourself the plush furniture and lavish snacks a little too much. and then there’s the fact that maybe, just maybe, ransom isn’t so bad after all. because he laughs at the little quips you make at him, and then he normally counters with something just as witty. and then there are the little smiles you two share from across a large living room, where the space feels like miles apart. but you won’t break. you can’t. so, you keep your distance and let his charms work their ways from a good ten feet away.

it’s four study nights into the project when ransom decides you need to be a little closer. as you walk into the apartment, you notice the loveseat you always cozy up in has disappeared. all that remains is the couch, and ransom says that he is just getting it cleaned. you hum a response like “sure, yeah, i believe that” as you set up for the evening. throughout the evening, there’s more banter and discussion over the contents of the book, and at one point you get a little too passionate for your own good – sitting up and crawling over towards ransom to press a finger against his chest – like an accusation.

and there’s fire in his eyes – and not the hatred you would have expected.  when you notice how he’s looking at you, as though the word ‘lust’ would not be adequate enough, you back off. because you realized, in a split second as you locked eyes, that you were willing to mirror that look. you pack up your things with some thinly veiled excuse of needing to get home for a test tomorrow, and head out before he can stop you.

the next night, the couch is gone. but the loveseat has returned. reasoning? “well, now that the loveseat’s clean, the couch should be too.”

you don’t talk about what happened before. but maybe that’s your downfall, because being closer to him on the loveseat allows for a lot more of the same heated arguments from last night. and he makes sure you’re riled up; it’s like he enjoys seeing you like this. he picks a fight whenever the discussion allows, and your banter turns into to semi-hurtful comments thrown towards the man who can have everything and everyone he wants. and in your head, you were pretty sure that would include you if he just asked.

you keep checking your phone, because a snowstorm is supposed to be coming in soon. at least that’s the excuse you give ransom. every time you find yourself admiring his strong jawbone or physique, you look for a new reason to leave. “well, the storm’s coming in soon.”

his response? “oh, you can stay another hour or so before the roads start getting wet.”

when you say, “ransom, i don’t know how much longer i should stay…” he offers up his guest room. and you don’t think that sounds too horrible. so, you let your phone fall to the wayside as you get back to work with annotating and discussing the final few chapters. he offers you a drink at some point, which you say you can make on your own. you might have made yourself too many drinks by midnight, because the arguments are starting to slip into less academic categories. and you’re final nail in the coffin – the moment that has you realizing you should be heading to bed is when you say, “your reasoning doesn’t even make sense. you think anything that comes out of those pretty lips is going to win in a fight.”

and he just grins. “you think my lips are pretty, huh?”

and you don’t really realize how close he is, and how much you’re willing to give to him, until those pretty lips are on yours and ferociously attacking your will. there’s no need to fight against your ill will towards him, as you know you’ve succumb to that long ago. his lips trail down under your chin, and then to the nape of your neck; biting and sucking along the way. “you don’t give hickies to other girls,” you say offhandedly.

“how keen of you to notice,” he whispers back against your collar bone. he’s already started putting at your deep maroon, knit sweater you’re wearing and unbuttoning the shirt underneath. you don’t really have the forethought to do the same with him, because all your mind can center around his how amazing his mouth and hands feel all over you. you’re squeezing your legs shut to try and stop the sensation pooling in your lower stomach, but ransom knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

and he’s going to take his time with it. he wants to savor every inch of you, because he knows he’s not going to get this chance again. so, he’ll make the most of it tonight when he rails you against the loveseat you seem to adore so much. the one that had previously been the way to stay far away from him. ransom couldn’t think of a more ironic ending than pulling at the tight ponytail you always kept your hair up in, pounding his cock into your tight folds and letting the beautiful sounds of your moans fill the space.

[magioftheseas]

A Meal With Chestnuts

written for @yuzuria​ because it’s her biiiiiirf

Summary: In which Hinata adopts a cat that's a whirlwind of fluff and trouble. His brother sometimes helps.

Rating: G

Warnings: Ehhhhh? There are some tribulations related to caring for a pet but that’s it.

Notes: Because I love Mewshi (cat!servant) I decided I’d whip up a quick fic with him and Hinata. Yep. Yeah. Look at this angel. Precious.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

“I... Izuru... Hey...”

“Hajime.” His brother doesn’t miss a beat. “It is strange for you to call me out of the blue like this.”

“Y-Yeah. Um. I... I called because... I need, urgh, I-I need help.”

“Did something happen? Are you at the hospital?”

It doesn’t surprise him that’s the first conclusion Izuru jumps to. Honestly, if he were Izuru, knowing himself the way he does, that’s the first conclusion he’d jump to, too.

“I’m fine,” he says, almost snaps really. “But I...” He pinches his nose, swallows, and struggles. “I-I... I need money...”

“...”

“A-And I know!” he exclaimed. “I know I said I’d rather fucking die on the streets than borrow money from you when you offered—t-that was stupid...and immature... I’m sorry. I...”

“...”

“I... I...”

Can I really do this?

Just as he’s this close to hanging up, he glances over and ends up meeting the wide, gray-green eyes of a scraggly, tangled mess of fluff. Said fluff gives a weak chirp in acknowledgement.

How can I even ask myself that?

“I found a cat,” he said, sighing. “It’s in really, really bad shape. Like, its back legs are badly broken, one of its front paws is mangled, it has worms, and it... He smells awful, Izuru. And I don’t have enough to pay for the medical bills.”

“Understood.” The response was immediate. “Which vet?”

“Uh... The one on...” He rattles off the address. “So, uh, does this mean...?”

“I will be there right away.”

“Right away?”

“Right. Away.”

Just like that, Izuru hangs up. Hinata blinks at his phone before pocketing it. With a sigh, he reaches out to stroke the cat’s head, mindful of the plastic cone. He earns a purr for his troubles, and he can’t help but smile in spite of his grimace.

“You made me broke one of my oaths to never ask my successful, genius brother for help,” he said. “Fifteen years I kept that oath. And now it’s broken. Because of you.”

The cat nuzzled his hand.

“...I hope you’re happy. You’re really lucky, too. Izuru loves cats, and he barely loves anything. I’m still doubtful that he loves me, y’know.”

Another chirp.

“You’re...you’re in good hands. Definitely.”

--

Hinata Hajime was, putting it lightly, not the happiest he could be with his life.

Law school had been stressful enough, but actually trying to make it as a lawyer could be a nightmare with the weirdos he had to put up with and the cases he had to swallow his pride and do his damndest to defend when they actually made it to court. Even so, he wasn’t very successful.

Not like Izuru, never like Izuru.

Still, he had a stable life, if anything A good apartment, an alright car, a good neighborhood, a social life that sure existed even when he didn’t have the energy for it. He was doing well for himself. Not great, but well. Well, well, welly well, well.

Izuru called him boring for good reason.

He resented Izuru, of course, but he was hard-pressed to argue with him over anything. Izuru was right. Even Hinata’s own friends agree that he was the kind of guy who seriously needed to go out more. Relax more. Get laid.

Especially since his crush of seven years hadn’t picked up on any of Hinata’s painfully obvious hints. Better yet, said crush tended to fawn over his doctor. They weren’t in a relationship for that reason, but... But... Still. It was pretty damn hopeless.

Too fucking bad Hinata didn’t have the itch nor confidence to just find someone, anyone to put up with his boring, mundane, sometimes miserable ass in bed.

So Hinata was at a loss over what the hell he was supposed to do to find some level of actual contentment with his life. Or at least something if not someone to distract him from the void.

And then a flurry of wild, filthy white fluff rushed out in front of his car while he was driving and he almost wrecked then and there. Breaking the law, he ended up pulling over and investigating only to find out it was just some cat. Some cat that just chirped at him before returning to gnaw at the remains of some roadkill.

It looked like a possessed mop. Hinata took it home for the night. And then he went to the vet and called Izuru for help. Something he swore up and down for fifteen years that he would never, ever do.

Izuru didn’t hesitate at all. If anything, Izuru was immediately enamored with it. Hell, Izuru already ordered several cat toys and high-end cat food to be delivered to Hinata’s apartment around the time that the cat was expected to recover enough to go home with him.

He should feel pretty stupid right now, and he certainly felt awkward watching Izuru stare at the sleeping bundle of white.

“Does he have a name?”

“Uh... Huh?”

“A name. Did you name him?” Izuru frowned at him. “Were you planning on keeping him?”

“I...” He knows he should say no. That if anyone’s equipped to take in a cat, it’d be his crush. Komaeda already had a cat, he’d probably love another one and Izuru couldn’t have pets in his building, but... Hinata’s own apartment doesn’t have any pet policy. And it’s as alright a place as it is an empty one. And maybe, just maybe, he had fallen in love with the stupid thing overnight after making it a makeshift bed of towels, pillows, and blankets. “I wanted to, yeah.”

Izuru nods. “What’s his name?”

“His name, uh...”

And it just kind of comes naturally. The cat has long, white hair that’s fine and reminds Hinata of grain, and... Said cat had also pooped in his rice bag. Hinata still wasn’t sure how it got in there.

“Meshi,” he said, shrugging. “Is that an alright name?”

Izuru blinked at him, but glanced over at Meshi, still caught in a peaceful slumber.

“Meshi is a fine name,” he said. “After he gets cleaned up, I do predict that his fur will be as white as rice.”

“Yeah...?”

“Yes.”

Hinata could only nod along.

“Take good care of him, Hajime,” Izuru said sharply. “Or else I will not forgive you.”

“O-Of course I will!” he exclaimed, gawking. “I... I... Yeah, I will!”

He just hoped he was prepared for what he was getting into.

(He wasn’t. He had no idea.)

--

Meshi, as it turned out, was exceptionally fluffy, even more than Hinata already thought. In fact, Meshi likely doubled in volume entirely due to fluff.

Meshi had needed his front paw amputated but Izuru paid for a prosthetic. Of course he had.

Izuru also needed to leave for work but he had left several files on how to take care of Meshi and administer medication if need be. Izuru even set up an account with money for future medical bills. Just. In case.

And then Meshi bit Izuru when he tried to pet him. And Hinata hurriedly pulled him away. Meshi had chirped but nuzzled against him, and it was the first time Izuru had ever looked at him with such envy.

He...had felt a little satisfied. But only a little.

“I... Don’t worry, Izuru,” he said. “I promise, I’ll take good care of him.”

“Or else,” Izuru muttered. Hinata nodded again.

“...yeah. Or else.”

--

So...now he has a cat. And his apartment has gone from empty and clean to a mess of cat hair everywhere.

And there are child safety locks on his cabinets because otherwise Meshi would spill rice everywhere.

And the trashcan has to be facing the wall otherwise Meshi gets stuck in it. Meshi, Hinata learns, has a weird affinity for trash.

“Komaeda’s cat isn’t this high maintenance,” he grumbled while scrubbing Meshi’s fur clean for the umpteenth time today. “He’s lazy and always sleeping. Why do you have to be completely different, Meshi?”

Meshi meowed at him happily as he rinsed him off.

“A-And what kind of cat enjoys baths, anyway?!”

Another happy meow. And then Meshi gagged from trying to nibble at his soapy fingers. And then Meshi started to hack. Hinata panicked.

“Wait, no, don’t throw up!”

Hinata had to wash the tub as well that day.

--

Every ounce of his space is now Meshi’s space. Even when it’s late, rather than use the plush bed that Izuru bought, Meshi sleeps on his face and nearly suffocates him overnight.

He drags the cat bed onto his bed and tries to force Meshi to sleep there. It doesn’t work out.

He wakes up coughing up cat hair while Meshi innocently groomed himself.

“You,” he grumbles after washing out his mouth. “You’re impossible.”

Meshi chirps at him.

--

You would think that with one prosthetic and weakened hind legs that a cat like Meshi would have difficulty getting around.

Not so.

“Meshi! Meshi!”

Meshi kept on crying.

“How did you even get up there?!”

You would also think that with as much fluff that Meshi had, that it’d be difficult for Meshi to squeeze into all the weird places that cats liked to explore.

Also not so.

“Meshi? Meshi?!”

Hinata would’ve had a heart attack over his missing cat if not for noticing that the drawer was open. And, unsurprisingly, Meshi mewled at him when he peered inside.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

He ends up tying a bell around Meshi’s neck. It’s easier to keep track of him and... Maybe, just maybe, it suited him.

--

Meshi doesn’t play with cat toys. Meshi plays with his ties. And string. Meshi seems to really enjoy string.

“Luxuries are wasted on you,” Hinata grumbles. “Poor Izuru.”

Meshi attacks his antenna. He ends up with a shiner thanks to the prosthetic.

It’s very awkward trying to explain it to his coworkers and clients that no, he didn’t get into a fight, yes, it was just because of his new cat.

“Your cat seems to be quite the handful,” Kirigiri had murmured. “Be more careful, Hinata-kun.”

“R-Right...”

Meshi afterwards still had the gall to show him his fluffy belly and look like an angel while doing so.

Hinata knits him a mitten for his prosthetic. It takes a while because Meshi keeps gnawing at the yarn, but eventually Hinata manages.

“There we are.” He pulls back to inspect his handiwork and sticks his hand out to take Meshi’s newly knitted paw. “It’s not as soft nor as nice but... You’ll cause less damage like this.”

Meshi chirps almost cheerily and nuzzles him. In particular, the bruised side of his face. It irritates his injured eye. Hinata almost cries, but he valiantly holds back.

He forgives Meshi quickly even as the bruise lasts a while.

--

His life has gone from unbearably dull to dreadfully unpredictable, thanks to Meshi.

It also changed in several other significant ways. If Hinata laid on the ground, Meshi tended to trample him without missing a beat. Cooking was now a serious hazard with how curious Meshi could be in the kitchen, especially near the stove and with fluff like that—Hinata couldn’t cook until he was sure that Meshi was safely kept far, far away.

Because it’s a cat, I’m the one that has to be completely and utterly accommodating.

Sometimes he took Meshi outside and just...watched Meshi sniff around the grass and area. And afterwards, he’d have to give Meshi another bath due to Meshi rolling around in the dirt.

Because it’s a cat, it’s just going to do whatever it wants regardless about how I feel about it.

He always needed to keep a close eye on Meshi. Because, otherwise—

“Meshi, no! Out of the trash! Get out of the trash!”

Why am I willingly subjecting myself to this again?

The answer was obvious even without Meshi purring after being pulled out of the trash.

“I was already pretty busy,” he grumbled as he once more scrubbed Meshi clean. “You’re making this almost impossible.”

Meshi chirped.

“But...it’s not like you have anyone else, huh? I’m the one who took you in.” He rinses him off and wraps him up in towels to blow-dry his fur. “That makes you mine. Izuru probably could’ve found a way to make you his but—but you’re mine and that’s that.”

Meshi purrs against him as he brushes his fur afterwards.

“Mine,” Hinata murmurs. “You’re mine, Meshi.”

Meshi meows, and Hinata likes to think it’s a sound of agreement.

--

When Komaeda visits, bright-eyed and carrying a cat carrier, Hinata’s sure that his heart leapt up into his throat at the sight.

“I heard about your new cat!” Komaeda practically beams. “I brought Izumi with me for a cat playdate.”

There’s a low mreow from the carrier. Just a sound to acknowledge his name being said. Nothing else.

“Oh... Huh...”

He swallows as Komaeda brushes past. Komaeda sets down the carrier. And with the tinkling of a bell and the padding of feet, Meshi practically rushed up to him.

“Hi there,” Komaeda coos, reaching out to run his fingers through those long white strands. “Ooh, Kamukura-kun was right, you are a beauty. No wonder he was utterly enamored with you. Hinata-kun, you’ve been taking pictures and showing them to Kamukura-kun, right?”

“Uh, yeah, a few...” But whenever I bring out the camera while Meshi’s doing something cute, Meshi immediately stops doing the thing. “Are you sure it’s alright for you to be out and about, Komaeda?”

“Yep! Matsuda-kun even says I’ll be well enough to start working! Though he also says someone as rich as me doesn’t need to worry about that, haha...” He opens the carrier, humming. “Come out, Izumi. Come say hi! Oh.” Meshi rushed into the carrier, which Hinata more or less expected even as he worried. “H-Hey, Izumi won’t attack him right?” “Of course not! My Izumi would never...!” Komaeda stared helplessly at the fluffy tail flickering in the air sticking out of his carrier. “Meshi... Izumi can’t leave like this.” “Meshi doesn’t believe in personal space,” Hinata said. A pause. “Unless it’s with Izuru. So... I guess he’s warmed up to Izumi, at least.”

All the same, he swooped down and pulled Meshi out of the carrier. Drearily as ever, Izumi stepped out, sniffing as he did and elegant black tail flickering with those piercing red eyes.

It still weirds me out that Izumi is a lot like Izuru but... Come to think of it, Meshi looks a little like...

Meshi blinks those pretty gray-greens at him. Hinata flusters when Komaeda glances at him with eyes a similar shade and hurriedly looks away.

“Uh... Here you go, Meshi,” he mumbled awkwardly, setting Meshi back down so that he and Izumi could familiarize themselves with each other. Or at least so that Meshi could, seeing as Izumi just flopped onto the ground.

Yeah, that’s what I expected.

And Komaeda softly squealed, pulling out his phone to take pictures. Probably getting the most flattering ones, too.

“Kamukura-kun will love seeing these,” he hummed. “And Matsuda-kun will, too.”

Hinata deflated, nodding.

“I... Yeah... Anyway, can I get you anything to eat, Komaeda? I have some leftovers I can heat up if you want.”

“So kind, Hinata-kun!”

“Not...really. It’s just a courtesy.”

He still couldn’t meet Komaeda’s sparkling gaze directly and Meshi, at the very least, proved to be a very suitable distraction. Especially with Meshi crawling over Izumi like that, pawing at him curiously.

Cute... Shockingly cute...

With Komaeda bouncing after him, Hinata couldn’t help but wonder if he’d really be able to handle both of them at the same time in his tiny, tiny apartment.

God give me strength.

--

After they ate, Komaeda was almost as eager to look around as Meshi.

“Aha, there’s a lot of toys! Did Kamukura-kun buy these?”

“N-Not...all of them... But a lot of them...” Hinata rubs at the back of his neck. “That said, Meshi largely prefers the toy box to any of them. And sometimes he steals my ties regardless of what drawer I put them in. He’s...a weirdly intelligent cat when he wants to be.”

Even though I’ve had to keep him from literally dumpster diving more times than I had to count.

“I see, I see...” Komaeda claps. “Your apartment is still so clean, Hinata-kun, all the cat hair aside. You completely gave up on that, huh?”

“Sure did.” Hinata doesn’t even miss a beat. “Meshi gets around a lot. He’s the complete opposite of Izumi.”

Komaeda glanced towards Izumi, who still hadn’t moved from his spot, even though Meshi was kneading him. Chuckling lowly, he went over to scoop Izumi up and placed him atop the cat tower. Meshi immediately darted after him, squeezing right back into his space. Izumi didn’t seem to mind.

“I guess opposites attract,” Komaeda hummed. “That’s really nice. I’m glad. A lot of cats aren’t very sociable but Meshi seems really friendly!”

“...Yeah...”

I’m still on edge. Komaeda’s cat can be weird, but—at the very least he doesn’t look like he’ll snap at Meshi.

“Uh...” He shakes his head. “So how have things been? You’re getting better, right? That’s... That’s good...”

“All because of Matsuda-kun!” Komaeda chirped and then paused. “And Izumi, actually.”

Hinata blinked.

“I really appreciate Matsuda-kun,” Komaeda went on, blushing a bit. “But truth be told, it’s really Izumi who keeps me going. Matsuda-kun can’t always be there, of course not, he has other patients, so I used to be really lonely when he wasn’t around... Everyone’s always so busy, living their lives, I really envy them...being stuck at home by yourself and not really having anything to do, anywhere to go... It’s such a boring, empty life.”

Hinata frowned but couldn’t bring himself to comment.

“But after I got Izumi, that completely changed,” Komaeda said, lighting up. “Izumi isn’t the most energetic cat, obviously, but he’s still someone I have to watch over and take care of and... Honestly I’m never bored with him. He’s got his own little quirks that are fun to discover. For example, he does have bouts of curiosity with the strangest things. One time I accidentally left a coat hanger on the bed and he cried because of it. Another time he was absolutely fascinated with this documentary on boats so I bought him a rubber toy. After I set it in a small tub of water, he made such a mess! Haha!”

Hinata looks towards Izumi, unaffected by everything including Meshi draped over him like a big fluffy blanket.

That’s...really hard to imagine.

“...it’s the same for you, isn’t it, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata flinched at that.

“A-Ah, huh...?”

He flustered more at Komaeda’s widening smile.

“It’s the same for you, right?” he asked cheerily. “Having a cat around—it really livens up the place, doesn’t it? I was pretty worried actually about getting a pet. After my dog died, I didn’t think I would ever be ready for it, but... I’m really glad I picked Izumi up. He was so listless at the shelter and even though he’s still pretty lazy, he’s has moments of such brightness!”

“I...” Komaeda looks pretty bright, too. “I see...”

Suddenly Meshi hopped up to them, pawing at Komaeda’s side. He headbutted him, and Komaeda could only laugh, patting his lap. Meshi pounced before curling up as Komaeda stroked his fur. And then Izumi, too, lazily walked up and pressed up against Komaeda’s knee.

...I want to take a picture, but...

“You are right,” Hinata said, reaching out and pulling Izumi towards him. It still mildly unsettled him how Izumi reminded him of Izuru, but all the same Hinata petted him, and a smile pulled at his lips as Izumi pressed back against his hand. “They really do liven things up.”

And then Meshi leapt out of Komaeda’s lap and barreled into Hinata’s stomach so hard that he nearly choked.

“H-Hck...!”

“H-Hinata-kun?!”

Hinata quickly recovered, taking in deep breaths as Meshi whined at him.

“I-I... I... Huh...” He blinked at Meshi and then scooped him up, cradling him. “You’re possessive, too, huh?”

Maybe...we’re made for each other or something...

Komaeda still looked rather worried but after a while he snorted and picked up an ever-stoic Izumi.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that,” he remarked. “You’re actually really handsome, Hinata-kun.”

“H-Huh...?!”

Meshi smacked his face after he snapped up to regain his attention. At the very least the mitten did in fact keep the prosthetic from hurting.

Komaeda just laughs.

“It looks like you’re trapped,” he said. “Well, there are worse ways. Like with rubble!”

“I... Uh...” Hinata averted his gaze, nuzzling Meshi to keep him happy. “Yeah... Yeah...”

Komaeda’s laughter was carefree and calm. Even though, his heartbeat stuttered over it, but...

Meshi whapped him again and kept him in line.

In a weird way, he kind of appreciated that.

“It probably would be nice for Meshi to spend more time with Izumi since they seem comfortable with each other.” If Izumi even cares. Hard to tell. “I can’t always play with Meshi, so it’d be nice if he had someone else...y’know?”

“I do,” Komaeda agrees. “Cats usually rely solely on us for stimulation and they can get lonely while we’re busy. So it’s better to have friends, I think. So maybe you can visit sometime and bring Meshi?”

“I-I...” Another whap. He got right back on track. “Y-Yeah! Yeah... That... That’d be nice...”

“It’s a date theeeen!” Komaeda sing songs and claps with Izumi’s paws. “Yay, yay! Izumi, isn’t that wonderful?”

Izumi just yawned. Hinata snorted as Meshi meowed.

“I think they’ll be fine,” he said. “Thanks, Komaeda, for visiting.”

“Ehehehe! It’s nothing, it’s nothing! I’m glad I did!”

Maybe...just being like this...won’t be so bad.

Yeah. He was almost sure of it.

--

It didn’t surprise him that despite cuddling up against him all that time, Meshi kept his distance at bedtime, grooming himself as Hinata could only lie down and watch.

“You know,” he found himself saying. “I’ve liked Komaeda...for a really long time. Long enough that I honestly should’ve give up by now, but...”

He shrugs.

“I still...like him a lot...”

Meshi didn’t say anything. Of course not. He was too focused on licking his paw.

“I think even if he never understands, I’ll be fine,” he murmured. “Seeing him again... I’m just happy that he can smile like that. And according to him...”

I smile like that, too. That’s really embarrassing to think. Why? Just because of Meshi who causes so much trouble and yet...

Meshi crawls over to him and curls around him. Just when Hinata perked up, Meshi starts trying to groom him. And he can only sigh.

I’m going to have to shower in the morning. As usual.

“It’s hard to dwell in self-loathing when I have you to keep an eye on.”

Meshi is definitely frustrating...but it’s hard to resent him for that. If anything, I might just be grateful, black eyes and scratches aside.

“...Izuru loves cats,” he said, humming and turning towards Meshi’s fluff. “I guess... I can sorta understand why.”

Meshi bit his ear afterwards. It really hurt.

But it didn’t really change anything.

--

It didn’t change anything. He certainly wouldn’t regret taking Meshi in for the world. But. But.

“H-How did this happen?! Did Komaeda’s cat impregnate him?!”

“Hajime, that’s impossible.”

Hinata still screamed into his hands, meanwhile, Izuru observed more closely. As close as Meshi would allow anyway, with Meshi hissing if he so much approached within a certain number of centimeters. Izuru respected that, but he still blinked down at the small ball of tea green fluff nestled into Meshi’s fur.

“Tea...” Izuru mused. “Monaka would be a cute name for her, don’t you think?”

“I still don’t understand,” Hinata rambled on. “I just, I just left Meshi alone for two minutes outside and he darts inside the house with this...this...!”

“Kitten,” Izuru finished for him. “You now have a new kitten. Congratulations. She’s very, very cute.”

“She’s a demon, actually,” Hinata retorted, pointing to the scratch marks all over his face. “She’s only cute right now because she’s sleeping. But the second she saw me, she attacked my face. Meshi had to pull her off.”

Izuru frowned.

“I think you just startled her.”

“I was as careful as could be...!”

Suddenly, the kitten stirred awake. Yelping, Hinata quickly hid behind his brother but all she did was crawl up to Izuru and mew at him, blinking wide green eyes at him.

Hinata’s useless brother melted in a heartbeat, picking the kitten up and doting on her, listening to her purr.

“She’s an angel, Hajime, you must have been mistaken.” Izuru gave him a pointed look as she batted at his hair. “Or, as I said, you startled her. It was likely your pointy antenna.”

“Hey leave my hair out of this!” Hinata exclaimed heatedly. “Meshi doesn’t mind my hair!”

“Well Monaka is clearly different,” Izuru huffed.

“Where did that name even come from?!”

Izuru ignored him, humming softly as he stoked Monaka’s neck. Hinata groaned, rolling his eyes, but there wasn’t exactly much he could say.

Izuru only paused when Meshi bit his ankle, puffing up angrily at him. Blinking, Izuru reluctantly set Monaka down so that Meshi could drag her away.

“...you really are lucky, Hajime,” Izuru sighed, looking at him enviously once more. Somehow, the novelty had worn off.

He looked at Monaka. Monaka looked back and hissed.

“...I think...it all balances out,” Hinata said, sighing. “I wonder how Komaeda’s going to react...”

“I want pictures,” Izuru said.

“...don’t worry; he’ll definitely take pictures.”

It’s alright being like this...is what I thought.

Monaka doesn’t seem terribly content with Meshi fussing over her. Somehow, Hinata just knew she’d find a way to cause enough trouble to give his Meshi a run for his money.

Things are about to get wild. That’s just the feeling I’m getting right now.

He might have to ask Izuru to come over more often. They might just be closer in the future than they ever were for fifteen years.

Man.

That’s a thought.

[technoskittles]

Fin-de-Siècle Saphique

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Widowtracer 

Rating: T

Summary: 1892, Victorian London. Amelie Hollings. has just moved from her hometown in Annecy with her fiance, Gerard Lacroix. It's been a rough adjusting period, but one visit to a local music hall where she first sees male impersonator, Lena Oxton promises a smoother transition. Or so it would first seem.

This is my story for the OW Big Bang (which I’m super late on ugh).

Read it here!

FFnet //  AO3

Or below the cut!

Amelie ran a hand down her skirt, meticulously smoothing out the wrinkles caused from sitting as she tilted her chin skywards to take in the glowing lights of the building before her. Along the outer walls were pasted posters on brick, extravagant illustrations and bold words announcing performers that housed their acts here, each one more exciting and extraordinary than the one before it. Though it was early with the sun just barely beyond the horizon and a half hour before the show was to begin, a steady crowd was already gathered around the outside of the music hall - young boys with their sweethearts draped across their arms, married couples freshened and giddy with their first night out in weeks, tittering groups of young women fawning over the fresh young man selling tickets with a blinding grin and chiseled chin - as they slowly filed in. It was a mixed group of individuals, all from different walks of life it seemed, yet even the brightest reds were faded and the shiniest pearls were frauds.

Amelie fidgeted with her own pearls that hung loosely around her neck, running a satin glove over the smooth service. "I feel dreadfully overdressed for such an occasion."

Behind her, the carriage finally took off with instructions of when to return and soon she was joined by a man not much older than her. He followed her gaze to the crowd before grinning broadly and reached for the hand that fidgeted with her necklace, giving it a gentle squeeze. Amelie looked over to her fiance, taking in the stubble on his chin that he hadn't shaved off prior to their evening out ("It will be dark, who will see, ma cherie? Besides, I find I'm rather dashing with a little shadow, don't you think?"). She watched as he brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed them together. It was not quite a kiss, but the sentiment was all the same and Amelie found it charming nonetheless.

"I think you look just fine, ma petite."

Amelie scoffed and pulled back her hand, swatting his away when he reached for it with a chuckle. "You are to wed me in four months. If you only see me as 'fine' by this point I fear to think that you've engaged the wrong woman."

At that he gave a thoughtful hum with a quirk of his lips. "Perhaps I have." He turned his gaze towards the long line of people steadily filing into the building, his eyes sweeping across the crowd. "You don't suppose a frenchman like me would have a chance with a Brit, would I?" Amelie frowned and followed his gaze towards the crowd, missing the sly glance he shot her with a twinkle of mirth in his eye and mischief in his hidden smile.

"It'd be quite the downgrade if you ask me," she replied tartly, a sour scowl on her lips, her brows knit together. "'Scraping the bottom of the barrel' as my mother would say."

"I wasn't aware your mother had such strong feelings towards the British."

Amelie turned her head a fraction, brow now uplifted in amusement, a coy smile on glossed lips. "I was referring to you," she said and sidestepped away when he reached out to prod her side with a ring of laughter in her voice.

"Are you telling me I should be wary of you running away with an Englishman?"

Amelie turned to her fiance with a softness in her eyes and reached up to cup his cheek, her fingertips lightly skimming the line of his jaw while the pad of her thumb ran across his bottom lip. Mon Dieu, did she adore this man. The absurdness of his previous statement made her want to laugh but she subtly bit her lip to keep it in before locking eyes with him, a husky sincerity taking over her voice.

"Oh mon cheri, you do not have to fret over such impossibilities." She leaned up, because even with her height she still did not amount to his, to better reach his lips before giving him a chaste kiss, one that conveyed her love and devotion to him and only him and refused to part until it was clear he understood. When she pulled away she saw her own love reflected in his eyes and knew that nothing could ever drive them apart: not distance, not hardships, and not even death itself. She would latch onto this one with every fiber of her being and never let go.

She stroked his bottom lip again and smiled, so happy to be here, safe and happy with her true love.

"There is not an Englishman….no, not a man out there that would ever take me from you."

Gerard smiled, so broad and genuinely happy that Amelie felt her heart soar from her chest. He cupped the back of her hand with his and turned his face so that he could kiss the palm of her hand. "And that makes me the happiest man in all of Europe to hear."

She had just been about to retort when a shriek of excitement sounded from within the crowd, startling her. Both her and Gerard turned to the source of the noise to see an bouncing girl, fair-skinned with dark hair draped in a braid around one shoulder. She was pointing at one of the posters on the wall while clutching to the shoulder of the girl next to her who looked a mix between amused and annoyed. They had much the same face and hair, with the bouncing girl's hair a touch darker than the other's and the calmer girl a bit taller with a more pointed face. Amelie immediately supposed them as sisters or family of a sort.

"Nancy! Nancy, look there!"

"Oh would you calm yourself, Kitty? You're giving the rest of these poor people a fright with all that shouting and jumping around. They might think you're right mad."

"Oh, but Nan, would you look? It's Lena Oxton! Here! In London of all places! Would you have ever guessed that she'd perform here in our theatre?"

Nancy rolled her eyes and raised her hand to press down on Kitty's shoulder in a placating gesture, but there was a small upturn of her lips. "Be careful now. With all your ravin' and screamin' you might just scare her off."

This seemed to damper most of Kitty's actions as she stopped her bouncing, but she still rocked back and forth on her heels and the balls of her feet, her grin never wavering. "Bridgette over in Canterbury says that she throws a rose to a girl in the audience when her performance is over. Oh Nan! We have to sit close enough so that she might throw it my way!"

Nancy only laughed as she handed her ticket to the employee working the door and the rest of their conversation was lost as they disappeared inside the building. The rest of the crowd seemed mostly unperturbed by the disturbance, but Amelie noticed that an excited buzz of chatter had risen amongst most of the girls as well as some of the young men. She hummed thoughtfully as she looked for the poster announcing this "Lena Oxton" but before she could find it a short burst of laughter sounded to her left.

"Well, it seems as if we're in for quite the show tonight! We'd better head on in to get some good seats." Gerard offered out his arm and Amelie took it with grace and followed him towards the doors of the building where the ticketmaster was waiting for them.

The theatre was only half-filled when they arrived inside so finding seats wouldn't have been an issue, but they had been recognized immediately by the coordinator. It was one of Gerard's new colleagues that had gotten them these tickets free of charge as he was cousins with the owner and event coordinator of the music hall. After they had exchanged greetings and pleasantries the coordinator, Mr. Tony Reeves, had all but shoved them into one of their box seats, elevated from the crowded common seating and in clear view of the stage. When they had politely tried to decline his offer, insisting they hadn't even paid to get in to begin with, he had brushed them off with a scoff and hearty laugh.

("Any friends of my dear ole' Freddy are revered guests of mine in this theatre! Just relax and enjoy yourselves! You're in for the best show in all of England!")

Amelie smoothed out her skirt again once they had sat down in the chairs, sinking into the plush of the soft velvet. She was pleasantly surprised at its authenticity, almost fully expecting a cheap imitation or lack of luxury to begin with. Yet once her gloves had been removed and sat on her lap, she ran her hand over the soft cushion of the chair, immediately confirming that it was the genuine article. A quiet pang of humiliation hit her when she had realized that perhaps she had judged too quickly.

Gerard had seemed to pick up on the exquisite furniture himself. His hand reached over and covered hers, giving it a comforting squeeze accompanied by a wink. "It would seem that you dressed perfectly for the occasion, mon cœur."

Amelie offered him a small smile and they fell into quiet chatter as they waited for the show to begin. Below them others did the same and up at the stage in the pit the orchestra crew were getting into their places, testing and tuning their instruments while the conductor sorted through his pages of music. They were dressed in black and white tuxes and their hair was slicked back in a professional and formal manner, yet Amelie noticed how stiff and cheap the fabric was, even from the distance of her elevated box seat. Some wore sizes too big and others had on sizes too small. She clicked her tongue and turned to face the stage as Gerard went on about how his job was finally picking up after a month there in London.

The stage seemed ordinary enough with polished wooden paneled floors and a thick heavy red curtain concealed a great majority of it. Golden tassels hung at either end to later tie off the curtains to hold them in places during the show, but they seemed frayed and dirtied. The lights shining on the stage - she was surprised to find they were electric - were dimmed for the moment in time, but they looked rather new. The hall must've just made the switch. She clicked her tongue again.

"It's rather…..quaint here, isn't it?" she mused.

Gerard took a sweeping glance around the hall, making his own observations and coming to his own conclusions. "I find it rather charming. It's more comfortable. A man can be himself here."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

She saw him shift in his seat with a thoughtful furrow in his brow and knew he was going to respond but the lights over the audience dimmed until they were practically visible. The stage lights brightened considerably and a man off to the stage's left stood in a raised booth, a wooden gavel in his hand and top hat on his head. He wore a tux much the same as the pit members did, except his seemed to be finely pressed rather than stiff and moved with his body as it should have.

Amelie sat up straighter in her seat as all conversations came to a halt as all eyes turned to the man now pounding away with his gavel. He grinned at them all, a large boasting grin before his booming voice sounded out for all the theater to hear.

"Ladies and gentleman!" he shouted, his arms outstretched and chest protruding out. "Boys and girls! You all 'ave traveled out 'ere to our lovely Wilton's Music Hall for a show that'll amaze you and blow yer knickers righ' off ya! Well...I'm happy ta say that the acts we got lined up tonight won't disappoint! So, put yer hands together for the first act o' the night, a duo that will flip and toss and turn until yer hearts are leapin' right out ya chest! Give it up...for Jasper King…..and Ivor Beckett!"

Two men in tight gymnast suits ran on stage as the audience cheered the the announcer pounded his gavel some more to rivel them up further. Amelie and Gerard clapped politely with a hint of a smile on each of their faces. The orchestra began to play and the men began their performance of acrobatics. Which each flip they gasped. Each tumble they ooh'd and each rumble they ahh'd. They twisted and turned, jumped and leaped, and Amelie and Gerard found themselves laughing with each bound and trick they pulled off, giddy off the excitement and awe they felt watching them.

Soon their act was over and the audience sent them off with a giant hurrah as they bowed and ran off the stage, one of them throwing the crowd in a tizzy by doing a finally flip before disappearing backstage. The announcer pounded his gavel to regain attention before announcing the next act who entered centerstage while the audience applauded and welcomed them.

This went on for several more acts and Amelie found that she was rather enjoying herself. She had had her aversions to attending such a spectacle, more accustomed to the ballet and opera that was put on in the much nicer grand theatres of Annecy. But Gerard was right: there was a charm to the place that she couldn't shut out or turn her nose up at. It was relaxed and fun and people were encouraged to be as loud as they wanted. They laughed until they cried and an ache settled in their chests, they were encouraged to sing along with some of the acts, and even managed to drag a performer back out once or twice in pleads of an encore.

A man could be himself here, that much was for sure. And so could she as it would seem.

The announcer began his speech for the next oncoming act, but the audience was still reeling with laughter from the departed comedian that his words - though spoken with that deep, bellowing voice - were hardly heard. Amelie wiped some stray tears from the corner of her eyes and next to her Gerard still wheezed with laughter, huffing out choice lines and jokes from the previous act, broken up by more wheezed guffaws.

"-yer hands together for the much awaited and anticipated, a model of class and elegance, Miss Lena Oxton!"

The crowd went ballistic. The cacophony was enough to startle Amelie to hit the back of her chair and she blinked her eyes as a young boy - probably eighteen or nineteen years of age - walked out on stage, twirling a brown wooden cane. A straw hat was pulled over wild and mussed brunette hair, poking out at odd angles from underneath of it. He donned tan slacks and a woven vest over a pinstriped, collared shirt. He stopped in the middle of the stage and looked out over the still cheering audience, lifting his hand to his hat to tip it and then waving at them.

Amelie frowned and looked past the curtains eyes searching. Had this Lena Oxton missed her cue? Surely with someone so highly anticipated she would be better prepared for her performance slot. And to make matters worse this boy on stage must've been rather confused to have mistakenly walked out when it wasn't even his turn…

She turned to Gerard to point out these glaring mistakes when the boy spoke, his voice high and loud and she turned back to the stage with wide eyes.

"G'evenin', everyone!" He placed his cane down in front of him, resting both hands on the cane and standing with his feet shoulder-width apart. "Pretty smart, don't'cha think?" And with that he struck a pose to which the audience cheered and he laughed - a high-pitched giggle, akin to the chiming of bells. Amelie looked closer at him, squinting against the stage lights until she finally noticed what had been obvious to everyone but her.

"Well I'll be damned," Gerard whispered next to her and she found herself sharing the sentiment.

No mistakes had been made. That voice, the slimness of the shoulders and roundness of the chin, the swell of the vest in the chest area and the fullness of the hips….

Lena Oxton stood right before them, clear as day, dressed as a boy.

Amelie leaned back and pursed her lips as she pondered over this new information. "A girl posing as a boy? The English sure are odd."

She had no idea if Gerard agreed with her or not because the music started up and Lena jumped to a different stance, taking the cane and tucking it up underneath her arm as she began to march across the stage. Her singing was much like her laughter, high and flighty, with an enthusiasm Amelie was not aware could be contained in such a small frame. The audience picked up quickly and began to sing along, swaying to the tune as Lena paraded and skipped across the stage.

By the time the song was over Amelie found herself humming along.

Lena dashed off stage and Amelie was partially disappointed in how quick her performance was, but in seconds she had rushed back out into the spotlight, now sporting a brown paper boy's cap and brown trousers with knee-high white socks that tucked in underneath the legs. The audience cheered for her again and Amelie inhaled sharply at the more casual button shirt she was wearing, the top two buttons loose. Lena started up another song and once again the audience was quick to join in. Beside her even Gerard was finally getting in on the fun, but Amelie found she could not remember the words and the few she did she stumbled over. So she settled for staying silent and listening to Lena instead, watching her prance and skip around stage as if there was nowhere else she belonged.

The music tapered off again when she rushed backstage and Amelie found herself scooting forward to the edge of her seat, balancing there and craning her neck in an attempt to get a glimpse of backstage to see Lena's next outfit. The crowd below cheered and shouted for more in her absence but the noise dulled in her ears, distant and muffled as she looked for brown messy hair and a red-painted smile.

The next time Lena stepped out she was dressed in a fancy black and white tux, two coat tails trailing behind her as she swaggered in polished black shoes and a glossy black cane propped on her shoulder. A top hat, shimmering like genuine silk, sat on her head which she took off as she offered a short bow to the crowd upon her entrance. They went wild and some of the women even laughed and giggled when Lena sent a wink their way. Amelie could only stare, admiring the cut of the suit, how it dipped and curved where it ought to, accentuating her hips and her bust in a way that a gown just wouldn't do. It was odd, indeed, to see a woman pull off man's clothing better than a man could.

With the hat replaced on top of her head, the lights of the stage dimmed until there was just a spotlight illuminating her, and a couple of stagehands hurriedly brought out a white clothed round table and a wire-framed chair one might see in an outdoor cafe. They set it down quietly as the music picked back up and a hush washed over the crowd, while a woman came to place down a bottle of wine, a single glass, and a slim vase holding a singular rose on the table before leaving as well.

The song this time was more somber and slow, her voice and words lilting and yearning as she sung of some woman she had loved that left her, heartbroken and alone. A different mood settled over the crowd, some of the women had gotten misty-eyed. Rose petals fell from above Lena, gently cascading down like a rain shower of scented silk. The whole audience was captivated and Amelie would be lying if she had said she did not feel the same effect.

Soon enough the song had ended and a burst of applause, not raucous like before, sounded out. Lena took off her top hat again and bowed before striding over to the table, picking out the rose from the rose and twirling the stem between her fingers. With the hat and cane in one hand and the rose to the other, she walked back to the front of the stage, rose lifted to her lips while she thoughtfully gazed out into the audience.

"Ya know," she began, a sweet smile on her lips that brightened her already rosy cheeks. "Now that I think of it, there's a lot of pretty girls out 'ere tonight, too." An excited yet hushed chatter overcame the audience, girls tittering and fidgeting in their seats. Amelie noticed the girl from earlier with her sister in the front, frantically patting down her hair and shifting happily in her seat.

With only a second of further hesitation, Lena decided to have come to some choice or another because she pulled the rose from her lips and grinned brightly before pulling her arm back and whipping it forward, tossing the rose into the crowd. It arced in the air before dropping into the middle of one of the further back rows, where a girl in a dress dress caught it, her eyes alight and lips turned up into an impossible grin.

The moment was broken when the audience erupted into applause once more as Lena bowed off stage, waving and sending air kisses before disappearing behind the red curtains for the last time. Amelie slunk back into her seat as the announcer introduced the next act, words she hardly heard, and a woman stepped out, a person she hardly noticed.

There were only a couple of acts that followed, but Amelie found it hard to pay attention, her mind still stuck on the absurdity of a girl posing as a boy. It was peculiar and certainly unheard of, but she supposed it did have a charm to it and a uniqueness that set her apart from most. It gave it that extra spunk that most of the previous acts had lacked and had a captivating aspect to it that made it quite difficult to put out of one's mind. Compared to the rest of the night's show, everything else had seemed lackluster and unoriginal.

For the next few minutes Amelie sat in complacent boredom before the last act took their bows and the announcer officially ended the show, wishing everyone a safe departure and pleasant evening. Gerard gathered their coats from the spot beside the door to their box, helping Amelie stand from her seat before helping her shrug her coat on. They joined hands as they walked outside into the night's chill with the rest of the leaving crowd. Around them was excited talk replaying favorite moments of the show, laughter drunk on glee, a flush in everyone's face from a successful night out.

Gerard cleared his throat and Amelie snapped out of her own musings to gaze up at him, nodding when he gestured to where their carriage awaited them just outside of the theatre. He helped lift her into the carriage before climbing in himself and soon they were off, headed back home to turn in for the evening.

There were a few seconds of silence before Gerard said, "I understand that it wasn't quite the ballet or opera that you're used to, but it was entertaining nonetheless, non?"

Amelie sighed, her mind drifting back to rosy cheeks and mussed brown hair. "I should say so. It was a wonderful evening, Gerard. Thank you."

Her words seemed to give him some reprieve as his shoulders relaxed and his grin returned, following the strong line of his jaw. She felt a faint flicker of adoration in her chest at how boyish he looked. "I'm glad you think so. If you'd like, we could return here again for another show whenever we need to unwind a bit. What do you say?"

Her eyes lit up and she leaned forward eagerly. "Oh, could we?"

He laughed and leaned forward to plant a kiss on her forehead, his hand tucking a stray lock behind her ear. "Of course, ma cherie. Anything your heart desires."

They spent the rest of the ride discussing their favorite acts and quoting lines from some of the comedians, singing songs from the singers, and retelling to one another the awe-inspiring stunts that had been pulled in front of their very eyes.

Not once was Lena Oxton mentioned.

[mychiccabin]

Throw These Throw Pillows

  Once you have all of the furniture in your room, it’s time for decorations. Decor adds life, personality, comfort to a room- and it can easily be changed out to suit the seasons, or your mood. Throw pillows in particular are easy, inexpensive ways to change the feel of the room, boom, instant makeover!

I stray towards the kitsch and love to have a couple pillows that I change out for the big holidays (Christmas, Easter, 4th of July, Thanksgiving, Halloween, St Patrick’s Day, Valentine’s- okay, most of the holidays) so I have classical beautiful pillows that I switch out seasonally and use as a base and a couple of fun holiday specific pillows that I layer around the specific holiday (my husband makes me keep it to the holiday month- he is less cheesy than I am). My mother, on the other hand, has beautiful, classic pillows that perfectly match her furniture, and she only changes these out when she is doing a complete overhaul of her decor, once to twice a decade (although she does have Christmas pillows and her holiday decorating puts mine to shame- whether the trait is inherited or learned, I definitely got it from my mom). My sister, my other design collaborator, uses neutral, elegant base pillows and then has a few elegant pillows that she will switch out seasonally (earth tones for fall and winter, pastel for spring, and bright colors for summer). The point is, change out your pillows as frequently or as infrequently as you want, pick whatever style you want, but here are some tips for helping you get started in your throw pillow search (there are literally thousands to choose from):

Size and Shape

Sofas: largest pillows should be on the outside, smallest on the inside

Chaise and beds: largest pillows should be at the head moving to the smallest on top

For a plumper looking pillow, pick an insert that is a size larger than the case

Mix and match sizes and shapes: four square pillows and a rectangular pillow in the middle on a sofa, a circular pillow layered over a square pillow, a star pillow on a chair

For a more textured shape, “chop” pillows so that they bend in at the top

“Chopped” pillow

Color

Feel free to vary the colors of your throw pillows but stick to a color palette

Try getting a couple of sets of complementary pillows, if you have seven pillows in your seating area you could have three sets of pairs and one accent pillow, all following the same color scheme

Tie the color scheme with the rest of the room. Choose a primary or secondary color in your rug, sofa, accent chair, duvet, wall color or the other decor

When layering different pillows, have the busiest pattern on top or as the largest pillow- making it the key pillow, mix with a simpler pattern (like strips) and a solid

Material

Feather and down are softer and squishier, but they are also pricier and don’t hold their shape as well

Cotton, foam, and synthetic fills don’t look as cloudlike, but they hold their shape better

For added interest, pick a different casing material, texture from the sofa or bed

Feel free to mix and match textures

Keep in mind the function of the pillow. Some materials are harder to clean: silk, fur… Some textures are less comfortable: sequins, buttons…

Number of Pillows

The goal is style and comfort. On couches, don’t have so many there is no room to sit. On beds, don’t make unloading the pillows a ten minute process

For a classical look, stick with symmetry

For a more contemporary look, try an asymmetical approach

Handwoven Bhujodi Horizontal Diamond Strip Pillow Cover

“Handcrafted by the local artisans of Bhujodi, a traditional weaver’s village in India”

22″x22″

Cotton, bamboo, wool, silk

Price: $169

Handwoven Bhujodi Horizontal Stripe Pillow Cover- Lumbar

“Handcrafted by the local artisans of Bhujodi, a traditional weaver’s village in India, our pillow covers pay tribute to the intricate handiwork of Kachchh textiles.”

13″x21″; 18″x24″

Cotton, bamboo, wool, silk

Price: $149- $169 

Graffito Salmon and Cream Pillow

Abstract and neutral perfect for a rustic or a contemporary cabin

22″x22″

Cotton and linen

Price: $219

Doe Fawn Pillow

Make fauna your neutral with this beautiful pillow.

22″x22″

Price: $173

Harbor Island Pillow in Oatmeal

Simple striped pattern in neutral colors with a tassel zipper.

26″x26″

Linen cover. Feather and down insert.

Price: $170 

Normandy II Pillow in Garnet and Gold Branches

An elegant, modern homage to nature.

26″x26″

Cotton removable cover.

Price:$170

Mongolian Pillow

It just doesn’t get softer or more comfortable than this.

22″x22″

Mongolian lamb fur

Price: $159.95

Nivala Pillow

Plush velvet with an art deco design for the ultimate luxe pillow

24″x24″

Velvet

Price: $89.95

Cuesta Pillow Cover

Solid color with a caterpillar fringe for extra texture.

24″x24″

Cotton case.

Price: $88

Monarch Pillow Cover

Gorgeous hand embroidered french knots over a linen base. 

20″x20″

Linen

Price: $198

Cotton Knit Pillow Cover

This cotton knit evokes everything that is soft, classic, cozy, and warm, perfect to snag for a nap.

20″x20″; 24″x24″

Cotton knit

Price: $29; $34

Layered Brushstrokes Pillow Cover

Pretty pastel and polished, this pillow is delicate and contemporary.

12″x21″

Cotton

Price: $19.99

Breuer Throw Pillow

Textured and comfortable, square or rectangle.

20″x20″; 14″x20″

Wool/cotton blend. Polyfill

Price: $43.87; $42.12

Branchville Square Faux Fur Throw Pillow

This pillow is begging to be squeezed. 

20″x20″

Faux fur. Down/feather fill.

Price: $ 43.99

Stone Beadwork Velvet Pillow

Nothing says luxe quite like velvet and beadwork.

14″x20″

Velvet 

Price: $113

Hutch Black Pillow

If you are lucky, you can see bunnies from your cabin, if you can’t get this pillow so you can see bunnies whenver you want

22″x22″

Price: $196

Brookings Pillow Cover

Add some flora without adding too muc color

22″x22″

Linen and cotton embroidery

Price: $178

Harbour Island Pillow in Charcoal

A classic pattern with tassels for this elegant lumbar pillow 

14″x48″

Linen

Price: $160 

Suede Flange Pillow Cover

Smooth as Suede

13″x21″

Suede 

Price: $229 

Leather Double Band Inset Pillow Cover

Linen and leather, tough and soft, masculine and feminine.

22″x22″

Linen and leather

Price: $189

Pair Old Southwest Old Style Pillow Covers

Try these pillows for some southwest flavor in your ranch.

18″x18″

Acrylic and muslin

Price: $59.95

Masson Hair on Hide Pillow

Add texture with this genuine, patchwork, hair on hide pillow.

18″x18″

Cowhide

Price: $129 

Lodge Cabin Hooked Wool Pillow

Perfect for a classic cabin in the woods.

18″x18″

Hooked wool. Velveteen backing. Poly-fil insert.

Price: $79.95

Wilderness Hooked Moose Pillow

A textured image of the mountain’s most statuesque creature.

18″x18″

Hooked polyester.

Price: $59.99

Bear Track Pillow w Tassels

I always gravitate to anything bear

18″x18″

Faux leather

Price: $49.99

Moose Red Plaid Pillow

This would go perfectly on a bed in a mountain cabin.

18″x18″

Polyester/acrylic/cotton blend

Price: $49.99

Wilderness Ridge Knitted Moose Pillow

To get a homey feel, opt for a knit pillow like this one.

17″x17″

Price: $54.95

Campfire Accent Pillow

A quilted campfire to cozy up with by your real fire

15″x15″

Price: $49.95

source https://mychiccabin.com/throw-these-throw-pillows/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=throw-these-throw-pillows