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Cobalt's lackadaisical life as a living Meowstic blanket are put to the test when a rambunctious wild pokemon crashes his living situation--and his trainer decides to adopt the little scamp! Will he manage to get some peace and quiet, especially when the newcomer grows envious over his situation?

This is an update to the ongoing story, written as a subscriber reward for  kirbutashi ! Featuring pseudo-TF into an object, and allusions to stuffing, feeding, and object vore vibes. Art is from this picture kirbu got featuring the cast and used with permission, but beware--it just might spoil future chapters! ;)

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Being a comforter was heaven—absolute heaven. Cobalt snuggled close around his trainer. After a long day of work, the human had come home to throw on a movie, and had grabbed their favorite blanket to snuggle up with. Now Cobalt was wrapped close around their body, draped over part of them, purring with delight; he hoped that the rhythm of his purr would suffuse his trainer and leave them vibrating with delight and happiness that was delivered direct from them to him.

A scary part of the movie happened and the human tugged their blanket closer. Cobalt, once a Meowstic (still technically one, if you wanted to be a stickler, but his body shape was nowhere near feline at this point—he was a large, fluffy, warm, blue-furred blanket with a cat’s face at the end) used what little power of movement he had to wriggle closer to them. Part of the reason he was, in his humble opinion, the best blanket ever was that his body warmth suffused whomever he cuddled up with, and he could feel the human appreciating the gift of his warmth as his breaths rose and fell. He rested his little chin on the crook of their neck, cuddling up with them and purring even harder, and was rewarded with a scritch of the chin and on the back of his ears. The sensation made him feel sleepy—not a difficult thing, considering his Meowstic’s body had been stretched to accommodate fluff and stuffing and plush things to the point where he could easily cover a few humans with room to spare. Being stretched so far, so perpetually, was tiring. But Cobalt didn’t mind. His life was simply to be warm and soft and happy, to love and to be loved; still draped around his human’s body, he gradually fell asleep. The initial stuffing had distressed him, but he’d quickly learned to love it. The idea that he could ever go back to being a cat, or indeed that he had even enjoyed such a form, was amusing to him.

This was who, and what, he was meant to be.

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The following day, he’d put up with a session in the washing machine (his least favorite thing!) only for the dryer to not work. Apologizing and promising to get someone to fix it, Cobalt’s trainer had set up a makeshift clothesline between two trees in the backyard. Draping their pokemon-turned-comforter over it, they went inside.

While a bit miffed that he wouldn’t get to ride in the dryer, Cobalt had to admit it could be worse. It was a pleasant day in late spring, the sort of sunny warmth that hinted at oncoming summer without being oppressive, and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves and the petals and rocked him back and forth on the clothesline. The gentle sway was delightful in its own way, and Cobalt resolved to let it rock him to sleep.

He couldn’t have said for sure how long he was out for; a few hours, perhaps? As he often did, he spent the day dozing, happily draped over the clothesline.

But then, he was ever-so-rudely interrupted by a toy thrown at him.

Grumbling awake, Cobalt stared down at the toy. It was an old plushie, slightly dirty and torn in places. He swept his gaze up. Who could have done this?

Amber eyes stared back from the line of bushes at the edge of the yard and she emerged, giggling. She was a Meowstic like himself; clearly wild, from her scruffy demeanor. Unlike the usual females of Cobalt’s species, she seemed less prissy and more playful.

Cocking her head, the newcomer conjured up a sheet of pale blue psychic power, using it to pick up the toy. Then, with a giggle, she chucked it at Cobalt again.

Angrily, Cobalt thrashed on the clothesline, trying to get the wild pokemon to go away. But she just seemed to take his movement as an urge to play, and she happily jumped up to grab hold of him. Even as she traced her paws through his warm fur, trilling with happy wonder, Cobalt felt her weight tugging him down—and then he slipped off the clothesline with a cry, tumbling into a heap of blanket.

As the living comforter tried to get sense of what was going on, he felt a sudden pressure on his back. Rolling his eyes up, he cried out in consternation—the wild Meowstic was using her paws to knead him like she was making a nest! Cobalt wriggled to try to dislodge her, but she just curled down happily on him, apparently deciding to take a nap of her own. When he continued raising a ruckus, she cracked one eye to glance at him, and then, with a playful giggle, raised a paw to conjure up more psychic power—

And her toy flew into Cobalt’s mouth, gagging him. He thrashed his head, muffled with indignation, and the wild pokemon just playfully chuckled and went back to sleep, keeping him pinned by using him as a makeshift bed.

---

When Cobalt’s trainer finally poked their head outside, Cobalt could only shoot them a long-suffering glance. He’d spat out the female’s plushie, but was still trapped under her dozing form. When the human approached, she stretched and yawned, kneading happily away at Cobalt, and rose with a chirp.

Cobalt expected his trainer to shoo off the interloper, but to his dismay the human seemed pleased when the white-furred cat scampered up to them. “Well aren’t you the playful little scamp?” they exclaimed. “Are you all alone out here?”

The Meowstic chirped, and then levitated her dingy doll over to herself. She clutched it like it was a holy relic.

Cobalt’s trainer just smiled. “I bet I could wash that and fix that up for you. How does that sound?”

Cobalt gaped in dismay, but the female just cooed happily—and she didn’t budge an inch when the trainer brought out a red-and-white poke ball.

And just like that, Cobalt’s life grew a lot more hectic.

---

His trainer named her ‘Rascal’. It was a fitting name, very fitting; she was ever the prankster. Cobalt had been something of a troublemaker himself in his old life, but he had nothing on her. Even as a Meowstic, he’d been lazy and indolent. Rascal was energy incarnate, always racing this way and that, playing with everything and using her psychic powers to cause all sorts of mischief. But she never crossed the line, and so Cobalt’s trainer just watched with a friendly, beatific smile.

Rascal’s new favorite playmate was none other than Cobalt himself—not that he returned the sentiment. When he was folded up on the coffee table, dozing in a patch of sunlight, she’d worm her way into his folds like she was playing fort, giggling all the while. When he was draped over their master’s bed, she’d tunnel underneath him, tickling him in odd spots and making him squirm and dance. When their trainer had accidentally left something blocking the catflap, not letting her go outside when they were at work, she’d decided to open the second-floor window and rappel down with a makeshift rope of bedding—Cobalt included. The trainer had come home to find their living comforter knotted grumpily to the bedsheet on one end and a quilt on the other, swaying in the breeze as Rascal happily rolled in the clover of the yards below.

Once, as a prank, she’d used her psychic powers to add a batch of fabric softener to the washing machine when their trainer wasn’t looking. Cobalt had noticed and had tried to catch his trainer’s attention, but the human merely thought he was raising a ruckus over bathtime and put him in regardless. The fabric softener had left him feeling loose and loopy, almost as if he’d been bathed in catnip, and his little tumble in the dryer afterwards was like a fever dream. After he’d gone out of the dryer, Rascal had pounced on him, eagerly mushing her paws against his warm fur and marveling at how lusciously soft he seemed to be. With a yawn, she’d rested her head against him and almost immediately gone to sleep, heedless of his exhortations.

She was such a handful, it almost wasn’t fair!

Eventually, Cobalt—who had been almost entirely sedentary ever since his master had stuffed him to the point of making him into a pillow—managed to summon the energy to move. Perhaps it was an untapped font of strength, or maybe he was finally summoning the vestiges of his psychic power, but the cat-turned-bedding managed to conjure the reserves to move about under his own power. He was lumbering and graceless, a grumpy comforter all but flopping along as his white-furred playmate followed him with curiosity. Even at her slowest, Rascal was more than capable of keeping up with him. Still, it was the thought that counted—and now that he could move again, Cobalt was no longer wholly dependent on his trainer for everything. He could find a patch of sunlight, or wriggle around if a bedsheet had clumped under him due to a hastily-made bed in the morning. He even managed to shake off Rascal from time to time, though she inevitably just crawled back on. When not playing with him, her favorite thing seemed to be kneading him like bedding and then curling right asleep. Cobalt bore it gracelessly with grumble after grumble.

The source of Rascal’s fascination seemed to be that she recognized Cobalt as a Meowstic like her. She would sometimes touch her paws to the little beans that had been all but swallowed by the edge of his new comforter self, or sweep her tail against his. She would poke and prod, apparently fascinated by his transformation, sometimes even gripping him in psychic power and raising him off the floor to turn him over on himself in the air, studying his spread-out form while easily ignoring his protests and cries. She would sometimes scamper back and forth between pillows or couch cushions and Cobalt himself, sinking her paws into one after the other after the other as if trying to figure out the difference between them.

A few weeks after Rascal joined their household, their trainer pulled Cobalt aside. “Now that we have a new family member,” they said as the newcomer lounged on the chair behind them, “just your normal self isn’t enough… we need to be able to cover everyone! How’d you like me to stuff you just a little bit fuller?”

Cobalt chuffed, disliking that Rascal was apparently to thank for this development, but he would never say no to stuffing. Opening his mouth wide to showcase his willingness, his heart quickened with eagerness as his trainer approached with a big, fluffy blanket. Rascal rose her head to watch, intrigued.

“Bottom’s up!” the human said cheerily, and then they tucked the blanket into Cobalt’s mouth.

As always, the cloth’s corner tickled his throat and immediately triggered an invisible reflex in him. Cobalt began gulping, the act pulling in more and more of the blanket into his form and making his throat bulge out impossibly with every swallow. He could feel the by-now familiar sensation of the fluffy weight settling inside of him, stretching him further and further still; even after all the time he had spent as bedding, he would never truly get used to this.

Carefully breathing through his nose and purring from delight, Cobalt kept on swallowing. The more of the blanket that settled inside his belly, the bigger he grew. Rascal rose with interest, her eyes wide as she saw her compatriot increase almost a full blanket size as he kept on swallowing the cloth. Finally, when the last of it was down his gullet, Cobalt smacked his lips and blinked sleepily. He leaned sideways and began to doze. Smiling, their trainer petted him for a few minutes, bringing a smile to the blue cat’s face, and then they took their leave to go make supper.

After the trainer was gone, Rascal hopped down and wondrously approached Cobalt. Poking him in the face, she tried to rouse him, but the now-bigger Cobalt easily ignored her touch, snoozing all the while. She even pelted him with pillows and plushies, but he didn’t seem to register.

He was bigger and better, now.

Watching him in awe, Rascal realized that she had discovered the secret. She knew how Cobalt had gone from being like her to being what he was now. And she was impressed. It really seemed like a unique life, to swallow something to the point where it settled in you and changed you. His new self easily ignored her pranks.

She… found herself feeling jealous…

As she considered Cobalt’s sleeping form, she used her psychic power to pull some things to her: her favorite plushie, newly washed and stitched, and a squat throw pillow. Nuzzling her plushie for encouragement, she picked up the pillow. She held it in her paws for a moment, looking down at it—considering. Considering.

And then, making a decision, she opened her mouth.