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When Cobalt, Rascal, and their trainer struggle to adapt to having a pair of stuffed and fluffy Meowstic around the house, things seem hopeless - but thankfully, none other than the legendary pokemon Mew arrives to help put things right.

The last (for now) update in the Plush New Pillow saga, written as a reward for  kirbutashi ! Featuring stuffing, TF into objects, and general silliness. Thumbnail is art of the trio made for kirbutashi and used with permission. Please enjoy!

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The first night, sadly, did not go smoothly as all had hoped.

Initially the three of them had all cuddled together—Rascal the newly-minted mattress, Cobalt the huggable fluffy Meowstic-turned-comforter, and their trainer, snug and warm between them. And if that had been all of it, then they would have been happy.

But unfortunately, Cobalt was not really a comforter. Rascal was not really a mattress. They looked and acted as such, but in the end, they were what they were: a pair of Meowstic that had been stuffed full of fluff and pillows and foam until they could take on the shapes they wanted. But even they could not change their nature.

Rascal found it hard to get to sleep with someone sleeping on her. She didn’t dislike it; far from it. She quickly spiraled down into a low half-slumber, a soft warm purr rumbling through her body to shake both Cobalt and her trainer. But the thing about Meowstic was that they weren’t made for having large creatures sleep atop them. Rascal enjoyed the pressure of her trainer’s body; enjoyed the warmth. But despite it all, the gentle weight of them pressing down against her foamy, mattressy self, squishing her against the boxspring, kept her awake. And as a hyperactive kitty, she was not one to while away the hours. Though she tried not to wake up their trainer, she still wriggled about to try and get Cobalt’s attention, figuring that the other pokemon might like to play a game with her.

For his part, Cobalt’s slumber was quickly interrupted. Not long after he’d dozed off, a small little wriggle underneath him jolted him awake. The blue cat grumped to himself; it seemed his analysis of Rascal’s rising and falling breaths had been incorrect. She wasn’t asleep after all—and now she’d figured that if she was staying awake, he could be too. Peeking over the shoulder of his slumbering trainer, Cobalt saw Rascal’s pale, eager face grinning back at him near the baseboard. She shimmied delightedly, wanting him to play.

The feline blanket chuffed. No, enough was enough. Rolling himself back and bunching himself near their trainer’s shoulder, he sighed happily as the sleeping human unconsciously grabbed him and bunched him up, holding him tight like a stuffed animal. This was the life. Rascal would just have to deal.

But as he tried nodding off again, Rascal was not ready to give up so easily. She was a mattress, he was a blanket—they could have so much fun together! She nudged one of her ‘corners’ up, the one near their trainer’s foot, to bump against Cobalt’s length. The blue Meowstic grumbled and clung tighter to the side of their trainer’s leg. She tried again, with the other corner, but he did much the same.

Rascal thought to herself. So he wanted to play like that? Well, he still had a tail, didn’t he? And so did she!

Hanging off the edge of both the ‘comforter’ and the ‘mattress’ were the Meowstic line’s signature fan of long, fluffy tails. For both of them the tails were more or less vestigial, but Rascal could still put hers to use. Smirking to herself, the pale-furred pokemon swept her tails up to tickle and hook themselves around Cobalt’s.

The blue Meowstic squeaked back to full alertness in indignation. How dare she! Did she not realize that he, laziness incarnate, valued his slumbertime above all else? Especially when it came to cuddling with their trainer! He was a living comforter for Arceus’s sake; he lived for nights spread across his trainer!

Cobalt tried to yank his tails free but that just emboldened Rascal more. Giggling to herself, the prankster wiggled her body around to tangle Cobalt’s tails more in with hers. Then, when she was satisfied, she decided to put her superior weight to use.

If Cobalt was upset before, he was downright outraged when Rascal began pulling him off their trainer to stuff him underneath her, shoved between herself and the boxspring. The blue Meowstic had had it! Angrily he scuffled and scrabbled, trying to break free of Rascal’s embrace. Their fur jumped with static and their movements instigated one another. Rascal was babbling happily while Cobalt bawled her out.

Of course, even the deepest sleeper would be unable to endure all of this, and before long their shenanigans woke up their trainer. The frazzled human sat up, throwing Cobalt off of themself, with their living comforter babbling apologies and sending psychic waves at them to let them know they were sorry. The human wordlessly rose, shaking their head, and made for the couch instead. Cobalt didn’t feel waves of anger from them, only disappointment—and that, in all honesty, was worse.

As their human bedded down elsewhere Rascal gleefully took this as an invitation to fully unleash her energy. She joyfully pounced on Cobalt, bouncing up and down on him until the run-ragged pokemon was able to crawl free.

Once he no longer had to worry about a living mattress jumping on him, Cobalt bawled her out anew. What was she doing? Didn’t she know that as their trainer’s mattress and comforter, it was up to them to ensure they got a good night sleep? Yet here she was, energetically waking them up! It was one thing that she never stopped pestering Cobalt, but did she ever think how she was affecting their trainer?

Rascal shied back with uncharacteristic somberness. She had only wanted to have a bit of fun…

Cobalt chuffed and crawled away. Well, she could have fun alone.

And so it was that the night passed with none of the three together.

---

The next few days, an overcast mood settled on their little domicile. What had once been a house filled with happiness and energy, the laughs of a human watching their stuffed-full pokemon make merry, was now a place where cynicism reigned.

The human, unable to get a good night’s sleep on the couch, rose blearily and lurched off to work like a zombie. When they returned they often splayed on the couch to catch a few missing Z’s, which only worsened their sleep cycle. Before long they were sleeping at odd hours throughout the day, unable to get a good night’s sleep, and constantly felt tired.

Poor Rascal found that her playful energies had no outlet. The human was too tired to indulge her, and her obliviousness faltered in the face of Cobalt’s obvious bad mood. The big bulky kitty tried to play as she had before, with plushies and tea parties. But it just wasn’t the same. Worse still, while she still had the same amount of energy as before, her new mattress form was awkward and cumbersome. Whereas before she could race from room to room without issue, now she found it difficult to fit through doorways unless she tilted herself as a disorienting angle. Other favorite hideaways of hers, like underneath their trainer’s coffee table or inside of cupboards, were now barred to her. What was left was a lonely little mattress moping around the house.

Cobalt, of course, was having none of Rascal’s self-pity. As far as he was concerned, this was all her fault. He stayed away from her throughout the day, even if that meant forgoing his usually sunny nap spots to lurk in closets or the corners of rooms. His attempts to snuggle up with their trainer had been gently rebuffed, the human apparently worried that he would act up and prevent a good night’s sleep like before. Without his trainer’s attention, Cobalt found it hard to live as a comforter: he couldn’t fold himself up properly, and he often found himself bunched up as he fruitlessly tried to smooth himself out or pile himself up like a proper comforter.

More than once the two cats had caught their trainer wondering to themself whether this whole “bedroom Meowstic” idea was good at all, which left Rascal ashamed and Cobalt aghast.

And really, none of them knew what to do.

---

Mew floated lazily through the air, giggling as she spied the people and pokemon below. For a being as long-lived and powerful as she was, one might assume that she had no interest in simple pleasures, but they were wrong. She was fascinated by the little things—humans fawning over chocolate cake with strawberries or pokemon playfully pouncing on each other. But truth be told, Mew herself was not into high-energy activities. She was more sedate, preferring to laze away a day or a week or a century in cheerful indolence.

And that was why the household she’d observed a few days prior had so intrigued her. The pokemon—felines not unlike herself!—had stuffed themselves so full of fluff and cotton that they more resembled pieces of furniture than any pokemon she’d seen. Better yet, they lived as such. The big white one, oblong and squat like a mattress, laid flat on the boxspring; and the grumpy blue one was tucked snuggly over his trainer as a big warm comforter. Just thinking about it made Mew flip a mid-air somersault in delight. It sounded like a marvelous life! Brimming with softness and plush cuddly fluff, lazing about and cuddling with a trainer at night… it had to be utterly sublime.

If she had to pick a form herself… well, she wouldn’t want to step on either of the other pokemon’s toes, would she? A simple pillow fit her just fine. She could see it now, a fluffy patina of pink fur forming the perfect case, the little corners trailing off into paws and feet… her cute little head up top, of course, complete with big blue eyes. Mewing happily to herself, the mythical pokemon decided to return to the household she’d spotted earlier. She wanted to experience some vicarious enjoyment through them, and as she floated through the air, little more than a pink dot above the world below, she eagerly awaited the unveiling sight.

But what she found was anything but a happily ever after. As she flitted around the house, her psychic energy camouflaging herself from view, she was astonished to see that the happy little group she’d spied were getting along poorly. Rascal the mattress was awkward and cumbersome, and looked sad that her trainer was too tired to play with her and Cobalt held a grudge; said sun-loving Meowstic was spending his time not lazing as a blanket, but furled up in corners or closets, grumping throughout the day. Even their trainer was left too weary to do much else other than sprawl on the couch and ruin their sleep cycle.

Mew watched it all in distress. No, this couldn’t do—this was wrong, all wrong! She quite disapproved of this.

Throughout the day she flitted by, observing them, hoping she was mistaken, but their situation never changed. Even as night fell and she eagerly awaited for a repeat of the first night in which they’d all tuckered down together, each member of the household had instead kept to their own spots, not cuddling or snuggling together. Her long tail twitched with alarm. This simply couldn’t do! Thinking to herself, she decided to wait out the night—and then, tomorrow after the human was gone, she’d see what could be done.

---

Rascal flopped onto the floor with a whuff of breath. Their trainer was at work and Cobalt was hiding from her as usual, leaving the enormously-stuffed cat with very little to do. She partially reared back and belly-flopped again, the heavy stuffing in her tummy cushioning her fall, but one could only belly-flop so many times before it grew tiresome. Sighing, she levitated her plushie over to her. Her oldest and dearest friend, she loved it even more now that her new trainer had washed and restitched it. Making it dance with psychic power, she wished she had more than just a quiet toy as a playmate…

“Mew!”

The sound pricked the Meowstic’s ears and she turned with shock. A nearby window—the same which often created Cobalt’s favorite sun-patch—was rattling. A tiny aura of pink power surrounded it and then the window unlocked itself of its own accord. As it swung open, a small, fey shape drifted in.

Rascal’s eyes widened. A recently-adopted wild pokemon, she had no idea what a Mew was or what made them special, but she could instantly tell there was something unique about this newcomer. She had a form like a cat, akin to Rascal herself in her original, pre-stuffed shape, though with a slightly fey air to her. Her tail was long and thin, widening slightly at the tip, and her feet were long, more jerboa-like than feline. Her arms were short, the perfect length to catch her little chin playfully, and her cheeks were slightly chubby. Enormous blue eyes dominated a face set beneath two tiny tipped ears, and her whole body was covered in uniform, pale pink fur. She floated under psychic power that Rascal intrinsically knew was stronger than her own; stronger, in fact, than any Meowstic could hope to match even after a lifetime of training and battle.

For her part, Rascal didn’t feel intimidated by the newcomer at all. In fact, she was ecstatic. Mew seemed friendly enough and as she drifted lazily through the air, Rascal got the sense she was an exciting new playmate.

And it wasn’t long before she was proven right! Mew suddenly divebombed into Rascal’s big fluffy body. The Meowstic mattress gave a shocked, happy squeak as her plush body absorbed the impact, and then she arched her ‘back’. The motion rocketed Mew up into the air with a delighted squeal and the mythical pokemon zipped right back down, splaying herself on Rascal’s plush back and rolling around, enjoying the way that the Meowstic’s warm fluffiness cradled her. Sure, Rascal wasn’t a real mattress… but she was close enough, and fun besides!

Seizing Rascal’s plushie in her psychic powers, Mew made it dance and skip along the floor with an alacrity that Rascal could have never imagined. Meowing with delight, the mattress-sized pokemon awkwardly pounced after it, lunging for her beloved toy and squealing as it always darted just out of reach. The heft of her body made the floor shake a bit, but neither pokemon minded—they were having so much fun!

Eventually Mew let Rascal catch her plush, and the white-furred cat nuzzled it with a happy purr as Mew settled down on her back to rest well. Mew enjoyed the rise and fall of Rascal’s breath, and the way that it carried her with it. After a few minutes, the mythical pokemon grew impish. Perhaps Rascal could use a bit more fluff to weigh her down?

Levitating a spare pillow over, Mew plucked the stuffing from inside of it with a melodic trill. She spooled it out like a long slip of pasta, Rascal gazing up at it wide-eyed. Mew teasingly dangled the stuffing over her for a few minutes with Rascal wriggling underneath before she finally gave in and pounced.

Rascal grabbed the line of stuffing in her mouth and eagerly slurped it up, purring all the while. After the ordeal that had been swallowing the foam mattress, a simple throw-pillow was nothing; she gulped-gulped-gulped until nothing was left. Resting tummy-down on Rascal’s girth, Mew watched in fascination. She wouldn’t mind experimenting with this herself, truth be told.

Levitating over another pillow, Mew made to rip the stuffing out of this one, but Rascal babbled her to a stop. Surely Mew wanted to experience the pillow in its entirety! Mew concurred and opened her mouth, a corner drifting over to her.

The throw-pillow’s corner touched on her tongue and she sucked it in. The moment the fabric met her throat she began working it down. Immediately she could feel her throat strain around it; a pleasant bulge that crawled down her neck as she gulped. Mew’s blue eyes shone with strain and appreciation. She had to take it slow; she was a small pokemon and even something as modest as this pillow could prove an ordeal for her. She had renewed admiration for the two Meowstic!

As she felt the throw-pillow plunk down into her gut, Mew patted her stomach reassuringly with her two front paws. It slowly expanded under her touch, and the sensitivity of the skin under her fur as she strained to keep the fluff and stuffing in was something to behold. Finally she swallowed it all and exhaled with a loud guh of noise. She blinked, half-lidded. Being stuffed to such a degree made her feel sleepy… she could certainly see why the male Meowstic spent most of his days lazing about!

A tiny scuffling noise from across the room hooked her attention, and she chased off the sleepiness as she saw a blue-furred form peeking around a doorframe. Well, speak of the devil!

Cobalt yelped with shock as he was seized by psychic power far stronger than Rascal’s; he was levitated over to the pair of pranksters. Unlike Rascal, he knew just what he was looking at. His eyes widened, not only from seeing a living legend like Mew right in front of him, but from seeing that Mew had indulged herself just like he and Rascal had! The throwpillow left her body looking plump and soft.

Mew studied the other feline as he spun lazily in the air, held aloft by her powers. He was comforter-like; maybe he just needed to expand a little more to chill out?

A woolen blanket, folded near the foot of the couch, unfurled itself and snaked its way through midair towards Cobalt. The Meowstic knew what his guest had in mind and he yelped in shock, and Mew took his open mouth as an invitation.

The blanket surged forward, meeting Cobalt’s mouth and then the back of his throat. As always, the not-so-little cat went on autopilot, his throat working as he gulped down the big blanket. He didn’t have much of a ‘neck’ anymore to see the blanket bulging his skin out, but his eyes still widened and he energetically breathed in and out through his nose as he fought to control the pace of his swallowing. But as he slowly gulped it down, Mew was unapproving of his glacial pace; and suddenly the blanket began shoving itself in at triple time, spurred on by psychic power. Cobalt’s eyes widened and he mrrrrrrphed as his throat desperately worked to bring it down. He could feel the blanket unspooling in his stomach, resting alongside all the other fluff in there; it pushed his already-strained stomach out just a little bit farther, the strain echoing through his body.

When Mew was done and the blanket was all inside him, she lowered him to the ground and he flopped helplessly onto the carpet, eyes wavering as he struggled to stay awake. Rascal pounced and snuggled him, and despite his grumping, he seemed more amenable than before. Mew leaned back, still stuffed herself, and felt smug and vindicated. Surely this would solve their problem.

When it was time for their trainer to return, Mew vanished, much to the other pokemon’s shock. Rascal and Cobalt tried to get their trainer’s attention, but the human tiredly waved them off and flopped on the couch, groaning from weariness. Cobalt meekly tried to drape himself over the human, but they tossed and turned and shook him off, leading him to go sulk in the bedroom with Rascal.

Mew watched it all from the shadows, her mind racing. It seemed that whatever was going on ran deeper than being fixed with just another stuffing session. She sighed, resting on her fluff-filled tummy and half-dozing through the night. If only there was a way to fix it… to make it so that the pokemon could be bedding without issue…

And in the early hours of the morning, it finally alit on her. It really was so simple. The way to be bedding without issue was to be bedding. She felt giddy and delightful. Yes, this was perfect.

The human left for work, sluggish and yawning, and Mew showed herself again. This time both Meowstic crowded around her, Rascal looking excited and Cobalt apprehensive.

Mew pointed out their trainer’s malaise and the two pokemon looked ashamed. They had tried to serve him well as mattress and comforter, but…

But they weren’t those items, not really. They were still Meowstic. Sure, perhaps they were larger than others of their kind; they were stuffed with fluff to a degree they’d probably never be ‘normal’ again. But at the end of the day, they were a pair of pokemon playing at being bedding.

Mew smiled impishly. But what if they could be bedding for real? The two pokemon looked at her in awe. If anymon could do it, Mew could…

Cobalt shifted away nervously. But what did that mean? Would it hurt? Would it make them not themselves anymore?

Mew didn’t blame either of them for being worried. She would be as well. But she had just the perfect demonstration in mind. It was time for her to change—for her to become her real self. She would join their little household, not as a pokemon… but as a cute pink pillow!

A shower of soft light washed over her and she started to change. With a happy cry of “Mew!” she began to shift.

It started within. The throw-pillow squatting inside her tummy began pressing out against her, like dough slowly rising in the oven. The fluff expanded, growing like kudzu. She felt it press against her insides—and then, ephemerally, it became her insides. Her stomach—though was it really fair to call it that anymore?—stretched out more and more until she didn’t just resemble a Mew stuffed like a pillow—she resembled a real pillow herself.

As she’d hoped, her body morphed itself to fit her new form. Her head became the ‘top’ of the pillow, her ears poking out as the top left and right corners. Her feet became the lower corners. She left herself a small tail, and her paws; but still, she looked more like a pillow with a Mew design than a Mew stuffed with fluff. One last change settled over her and she shuddered with delight as her fur danced, becoming a thin layer of pink over a sumptuous cotton slip; and then suddenly her body was split between the core of the pillow and her outer self: a pillow-case patterned with and featuring her fur, her face manifesting playfully along it.

When it was done, Mew-the-pillow rested down on the floor. She sighed happily. Ah… this truly felt amazing. She wasn’t just laying on something comfortable, she didn’t just feel comfortable, she was comfort in and of itself. Her whole body was soft and pliant and cottony and as Rascal and Cobalt approached her, poking and prodding with experimental awe, she giggled. This really was the life, no?

Rascal looked intrigued, but Cobalt surprised everyone by loudly demanding to do him next. Mew’s tail swished with delight and she waved her paw; psychic power ringed him. And then he too began to change.

The big, lazy Meowstic purred with happiness as Mew’s power settled on him. It was like a body-wide warmth that settled in deep and refused to let go.

For Cobalt, it began with his fur. He was proud of his sleek blue coat; it was silky and comfortable. He purred as he could feel his fur rippling, spreading throughout his body to become uniform. As it spread, so did the rest of his body. Already wide and spread-out thanks to the amount of softness that had been stuffed into him, Cobalt’s body stretched even further. Like his fur, the width became mostly uniform throughout.

As his body spread wide, going from merely comforter-like to a comforter in truth, Cobalt’s Meowstic bits began to retreat. Not wholly, of course, but still diminished. His arms and legs became stubby little bits at his corners, easily ignorable unless you knew what to look for. His feline face migrated to the top of the lining, though the part with it was still wider than usual as a concession. His ears shrunk, but were still present as well, flopping like two spare bits of fabric off the blanket. He squirmed with a loud purr as a pattern began manifesting in his length, making him a poofy checkerboard like most comforters. His tails remained untouched, long and curly, and then it was done—he was the perfect comforter.

Although his limbs were stubby to the point of near-uselessness, Cobalt realized that he could still push and raise himself and move about on his own. In fact, it was arguably even easier now. Half-raising himself, the pokemon-turned-comforter babbled his happiness. He was no longer a Meowstic, but a living blanket; where before he could feel the circulation of a heartbeat, now he was aware of generous layers of cloth inside instead. He flopped over joyously. This was perfect! It was amazing!

Not to be left behind, Rascal hopped over and gave Mew her best set of pouty-eyes, and Mew laughed and indulged her as well. The pink power settled in for a third time.

Immediately, Rascal—who was already the largest of the three—felt something within her balloon. It was the foam mattress she’d devoured, spreading larger and wider. She chirruped happily as the foam spread throughout her body, merging with muscles and bone to become Rascal in truth; it pressed up against her fur which merged to it as the perfect mattress cover, a flawless sheet of warm white fur up top that switched patterns to a deep blue below, just like her original self’s coloration.

Whereas Mew and Cobalt’s limbs had become more or less vestigial, Rascal’s disappeared entirely, retreating into her body like footage of a growing bamboo shoot played in reverse. She didn’t mind. She could feel her new body was powerful enough to move on its own.

Her face moved to the front of her mattressy self, eager and rascally as always; her ears stayed, as did her tuft of hair atop her head and her long white tails. When it was finished, she felt the simple camping foam she’d eaten transform into high-end, proper mattress foam, the better to make her a top-tier, real mattress.

When the transformation was done, she was excited, hopping around and shaking the floor with her weight. Cobalt bunched himself up, wondering if she hadn’t learned her lesson; this was what had gotten them in trouble last time. But Mew was certain that she would behave better. After all, though she was still Rascal, she was a living mattress now, not a Meowstic. There was a difference between playing at being a mattress and being one. Cobalt nodded slowly. That made sense.

Finally, Mew thought, it was time to seal the deal. The last thing they needed to make amends with their trainer. And she had just the plan.

---

When you get home, you rub your forehead, trying to get over the tiredness. It’s been day-in and day-out; a simple little night of fun with Cobalt and Rascal had turned into a hard night’s sleep and it had snowballed from there. You weren’t upset at your pokemon, per se, but you simply didn’t have the energy to keep up with them. Your couch had become your new refuge, and you plan to collapse on it right as you get home.

But when you walk through the door, you stop. Your couch has somehow been, for lack of a better term, fixed to the ceiling. Not through glue or anything, but it’s covered in a mantle of pink psychic power.

You poke at it tentatively, almost experimentally. What on earth caused this? Rascal is nowhere near this powerful, and Cobalt barely knows how to use his.

The apartment is uncharacteristically quiet; normally there are the sounds of your two cats. You go through, calling their names. “Rascal? Cobalt?” But when you hit the bedroom, you stop dead in shock.

What is arrayed before you is the perfect bed. A massive foam mattress, looking brand-new and with a gorgeous white-and-blue pattern, is resting on your boxspring. From her spot against the headboard, you see Rascal’s eager face looking at you. She mewls happily.

Folded at the foot of the bed is a dark blue comforter; lush and plush and with a perfect dark-blue coat. Big eyes look at you from under long ears and Cobalt purrs happily.

You blink. Your pokemon had been stuffed with fluff and whatnot, but they’d still been pokemon. But this…

“Cobalt?” you say, approaching your old friend. He grins proudly up at you, still purring. When you pick him up—he feels like a blanket, not like a big plush Meowstic as he’d been before—he moves under his own power with a grace the old him could have never had, draping around your shoulders and purring louder. With him resting on you like a mantle, you kneel on Rascal and your knees sink into her foam. She mewls too, and you expect her to wriggle—but she keeps still, seemingly content with having you lay on her.

Sandwiched between the two loving cats—though do they still count as cats?—you blink in shock. “Guys,” you say, “I… how did this happen? Rascal, you’re a real mattress. And Cobalt, you’re not a Meowstic anymore—you’re a comforter!”

The comfort both of them provide is warm and nostalgic, and you already feel your old weariness starting to drift away. “How did this happen?” you repeat again in awe, and a single voice answers you:

“Mew!”

You raise your head and see a pillow levitating over towards you. Wait… a pillow, or a Mew? The pokemon-turned-pillow hovers in front of you and you reach out a hand to touch her, half-disbelieving. She giggles at your touch and then rushes to hug you, pushing the slip of her pillowcase over your head. Yes, she’s a real pillow—and also is, or was, a Mew.

“You did this,” you say, laughing, as you shake your head out of her case. She beams proudly and then takes her place at the head of your bed, snug against Rascal. You lay down on her, luxuriating in her exquisite softness, and wrap yourself in Cobalt. The cat-comforter is warm, and his purrs are soft and make you feel like home.

Somehow, you think that while your house is no longer going to be shenanigan-free—in fact, it might be wackier than ever—you think that these three will behave themselves when it’s bedtime. With Cobalt above you and Mew and Rascal below, you let yourself drift off to sleep, happy and secure in the lovely set of bedding you have: a vast warm comforter; a large foam bed; and, of course, a plush new pillow.