Handmade Plushfection

Slowly pushing the door open was enough to topple the…pile? Stack? A gathering of plushies against the wall. The tallest plush falling over caused the small ones perched atop it to scatter along the floor as well, and sat on the floor with a needle and the messy beginnings of a plush toy was Goetia. In front of him was Peter, that famous fashion designer, who flashed Byron an apologetic look as he too worked with a needle on another colorful plush toy.

Raising his fluffy angora brows, his mustache twitching at the movement of his lips before he finally spoke gruffly, “Did I interrupt something?” His tone amused as he lightly pushed a blue furdin plushie aside, Goetia’s expression was much, much less amused.

The gray succubun furrowed his brows first down at his little handmade project, turning it slightly to check out a bit of string hanging off of it, before raising his glowing gaze to focus on the succubun who had come into the room. Scowling at being caught in his new hobby, his soft and squishy collection of handmade plushies with the one who taught him all he knew, he finally set his plush down.

Leaning back with his palms to the cool hard wood of the floor, tilting his head back and letting out a sniff, “Yes, you did.” Stretching a little more back in his position, giving Byron a chance to interject if he wanted to, or maybe even letting him wait for what more he had to say…before resting back into how he originally sat, he brought his hands to his knees and stared up at Byron’s face, the face of one of his lover’s again with a smirk, “Planning to join us?”

Raising brows to a slight wiggle, it was a challenge, asking without asking, ‘Well?’ And Byron finally, a succubun of red hair and big muscles and life experiences, stared down at him and let out a snort of his own. Oh, was he still amused? Or was he getting annoyed? Was this Goetia’s intention, or was he playing this all wrong?

And Peter, from where he sat, first seemed to hold his own plush up. Maybe defensively, but likely forgetting it was in his hand at first, finally dropped it to hold a hand up to interject after a thought, “We can pick this up later. I can just leave you two–”

Goetia blinked his glowing eyes and sucked his teeth audibly, very obviously annoyed just a tick, rolled his neck a little, “Nonsense. I have you now, and I’m sure those who know you well enough will want your time this month.”

“I want your time right now.” Byron said, raising his brows for emphasis as he crossed his arms over his muscly chest, baring down at Goetia. And he was met with a grin, a sneer.

Gray succubun maintaining unblinking eye contact up, reaching for the sewing again, wondering if staring into his eyes was painful due to the glowing and lack of shades, “We can pick this up later, that is, if you don’t want to join us.”

“I just want to know…"

“Yes…?”

“Why my office? Why did you host all this in my office?”

Indeed. Wood paneling, french doors to a balcony with a view into a courtyard, and…what was once a spacious and tasteful home office was now wall to wall, absolutely filled with these plushies they’ve been making. Shelves with some spaces for small trophies or new books–filled with smaller plushies. Spaces beside house plants, now choked full with larger plushies.

Byron’s desk chair? Occupied by a Byron sized plushie. Where even was that beautiful mahogany desk? Buried somewhere under all those plushies. Shoulders of the large plushies were also working spaces for smaller plushies to perch atop.

And all handmade too.

After a pause and then a long sigh, Goetia ran his hand through his long hair and freed a small plushie tangled up in it, finally offering up his answer, “I…have los–”

“He’s lost control of his life.” And Peter, after barely any consideration at all as he finished up the plush toy in hand.

The two stared at each other, Goetia glaring daggers aftering being interrupted all at once. Looking down at the space between them, Peter seemed visibly glad Goetia was sitting much too far off to lean over and smack him upside the head for that answer.

That didn’t stop Goetia from launching a small stuffed cow very close to Peter’s head, though it bounced off and over a large plush moon instead.

Rolling his gold eyes and then rolling up his sleeves, Byron dropped down to sit beside Goetia, peering around at the small collection of materials before him. Drumming his fingers along his knee, “Alright, where’s my needle and string?”