#HES AN OTTER!!!!!! HAIRY AND SOFT

[vivalamusaine]

The older I get the more I hate seeing Grantaire depicted as a twink

[moon1833]

MORE INUMAKI PLSSSSSSSSS

Me and the other seven Inumaki fans jump for joy !!!! Thanks for requesting !

SEA OTTERS -INUMAKI TOGE

“Sea otters mate for life and hold hands to prevent themselves from being separated.”

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He was too pretty for his own good. You knew it, like how you knew how to breathe. It was always there, but when you thought about it, you were forced into the realization. Inumaki Toge is beautiful.

There’s a soft glow stretching across his entire body from the tanks. They inclapse him in blue, and white light flickers around his face. The aquarium is large, and you two are the only people there.

There’s a thudding sense of a grade two curse, maybe a grade one. But besides that and the enclosures of marine life, you two are completely alone.

Even though this mission is particularly tricky, it calms you. You’re unsure if it’s the tranquility of the aquarium lights or the boy two steps in front of you.

“Toge.” You whisper, tugging on his uniform and nudging him further down the hallway. The curse is approaching.

Quickly, you grab onto him a bit more firmly, using your cursed technique to register the two of you invisible. To the curse, all that was left of either of you was the energy that lingered in your steps.

Invisible and perfectly still, you used your opportunity to get a good look at the curse. It wasn’t very big, but its limbs stretched wide, almost spider like as its torso twisted unnaturally. One leg tapped harshly on the glass, its wingspan larger than the hallway it was crawling down.

Toge grimaces beside you, his large distaste for insects shining through his half-covered face. You squeeze his bicep in comfort, using your other hand to make sure your knife was still there.

This job was more suited for you alone, but you were only a second grade, and Inumaki was a wonderful student to have with you. Still, for the plan you had formulated in your brain, you would need to get the boy to safety or use him as bait. You did not want to rely on the ladder.

As if reading your mind, he begins to sign to you. His fingers are quick and purposeful, a big improvement from when he started learning two years ago.

“I’ll be distraction.” He signs, a little broken but you understand him perfectly.

You shake your head in disagreement. “No.” You sign back, struggling to do so with one hand. “Let me get you to safety. I got this.”

Inumaki shakes his head wildly, but he has no choice when you force him down another hallway. He doesn’t walk happily, though. His arms are crossed until you find an empty room littered with security cameras.

“I can do this.” You whisper, finally dropping your hand. Your fingers burn at the loss of contact.

Inumaki looks at you and then rolls his eyes. You read him well. “I know you can but I’m not happy about it.”

“Look.” You point behind him to the security displays. “You’ll be able to see if I need backup. You know I’m visible on camera no matter what.”

He’s a bit more agreeable with the compromise, but he sticks to his habit anyway of hugging you before letting you leave.

Now that you were only focusing on yourself, your body fell invisible much easier, and your feet made no sound as you walked down the tile hallway.

The curse was almost exactly where you had first saw it, but its body was now facing the underground portion of the otter exhibit. Almost cutely, all eight of its eyes were stuck to the two as they swam by, hand in hand.

Beside the tank is a sign that you had read earlier, that sea otters mate for life and hold hands to prevent themselves from being separated. It almost looked like the creature was reading the sign.

You had to remind yourself this curse had strung up and drained the blood of three people before moving into action.

You sprinted, jumping on one of the tanks and flipping your body to get more height before landing on the spider-like curse, your dagger piercing it’s surprisingly hairy skin and dragging downward with you weight.

It screeches immediately, trying to throw you off its back and squirming at the same time. Its fangs twitch viciously, and it sprays some sort of liquid in the air that makes you involuntarily cover your mouth and nose.

With the advantage, the creature flings you off its back, and your body hits a wall harshly. You were sure if you had hit one of the glass tanks, it would have ruptured.

Weakened and coughing, your invisibility flickers, and the curse is charging at you. Barely, you doge in time, creating more distance between you.

Your knife is still lodged into its back. You need to get it back, and soon. You had other weapons, but that was your first choice, and a better assessed stab wound would’ve killed the curse, so you were a bit underprepared.

It charges at you again, and you jump, trying to land a swift kick to its torso while grabbing your weapon, but its upper body folds completely, fangs lunging at you while the blackest eyes you’ve ever seen stare at you.

Reflectively, you go invisible again, trying to lurch out of the way but the curse is quicker, spitting out web fluid and trapping you to the wall.

You curse under your breath, a bit disappointed in yourself at the outcome. Oh well, it wasn’t like you were going to die here.

You hear Inumaki’s footsteps before you see him, and you realize can’t turn your head. The web is stuck to your cheek, pinning you to the glass upside-down.

You cover your ears with cursed energy, something you had gotten very good at since befriending him all those years ago. “Go ahead, Toge!”

“Die!” You hadn’t expected that to be the command that fell from his pretty lips. Usually he relied on things like ‘explode’ or ‘freeze’, and would force an opening before exorcizing the curse. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard him use something so straightforward before.

Regardless, there was a sickening sound of something wet, and then a thud. From the corner of your eye, you can see a heavy, black limb, but that’s it.

You breathe deeply, your airways finally free from whatever had sprayed you.

“Mustard leaf?” He asks, and you feel his presence get closer to you, his cursed energy tickling your stomach.

“I’m okay.” You reply. “Just kinda stuck to a wall with all the blood rushing to my head.”

Toge laughs, and you find yourself grinning, too.

He collects your knife, beginning to cut the webbing from your face first. He’s slow, and he lays a gentle hand on your jaw as he works.

The web isn’t as strong as you thought it would be, and soon you’re finally able to look around.

Now, you realize why Inumaki had panicked so much. The curse was much, much closer to you than you had originally thought, it’s fangs fully barred and hardly a meter away from you.

You can also now see the second year’s concern, his face so close to yours it makes you dizzy.

“Hey.” You say, a bit dumbly.

His jacket zipper is lowered to his collarbone, and even upside-down you appreciate the unfair attractiveness of the bottom half of his face.

He mouths back a small “hi” and it’s enough to make you chuckle.

He finishes cutting off the rest of the webbing, and you almost expected for him to let you fall to the floor with the last slash of your knife, but he doesn’t. Instead, he catches you with such ease it startles you, and you don’t miss his cocky smile at your expression.

You thank him when he puts you down, and you carefully step over the grossly hairy legs. Your eyes find the only witnesses to the event, a pack of cute, tiny little otters.

The smallest one, who looks to have been born no more than six months ago, peers down at you quizzically. Its mother is beside it, and you smile at the obscurity of it all.

Toge joins you, poking your shoulder and pointing to the left of you at another pair of otters. They looked to be cuddling, almost dancing as they swim across.

He taps you again before pointing to himself, then you, and then back to the otters. Your head tilts, wondering if you’re reading into the display too much or if he’s doing what you’re thinking.

“Toge, I think that sign says they’re mated for life.” You nudge.

He looks back at you, bashful while almost a little exasperated. It clicks in your brain.

“You’re adorable.” You coo, grasping his hand. He smiles, the cursed symbols on his cheek shifting. Without thinking, you kiss them, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth.

You pull away, Toge’s face red and erupted in shock. Even still, his hands are on your waist and are pulling you closer until he kisses you fully, your hands becoming tangled in his hair.

Rather suddenly, he steps back, lost in thought. You frown for a moment before he begins to sign.

“Can I please be your boyfriend.”

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[billthedrake]

FIFTY SHADES OF DADBOD

PART TWO: THE BEAR

I was lucky. If I'd been able to back then, I would have tried to become the object of my desire. My buddy Sam and I were going through a bulking phase at the gym, and for about a month I watched in excitement as my own midsection start to get a little softness. But my metabolism kicked in and just as quickly it melted away, leaving that ripped abdomen in its wake.

Pretty quickly I leaned my body - riding the cusp between slender college kid and a real jock's body - was the thing that could attract the bodies I wanted. Even if my next hookups weren't nearly as hot as Pat the Coach, the men had bodies I craved and they made no bones about loving mine. I realized I didn't have to have the dadbod, I just had to be the guy the dadbods went for.

And they did.

That's why I was surprised at my first contact with bear culture. My college town didn't have a big enough gay scene, but the summer after sophomore year, my friend Nick and I took a road trip to the closest big city for Pride. Nick was probably my closer gay friend at school, and we'd been getting tighter lately. We didn't have a plan or know where to go, but at the parade we ended up next to a bunch of bears, some of them muscle bears, some just regular beary bears. They were a hoot, and even though Nick definitely goes for pretty jock boys, his party-loving nature responded to the crowd. A young cub type, Mitchell, produced a thermos and a plastic cup and poured both of us some vodka punch.

"Here you go, fellas," he said.

Sometimes bears do it for me, sometimes they don't. That day pushed me more into the "do" side. I was horny and I think I'd built up expectation of hooking up now that I was away from my small college town. As I got a little tipsy from the vodka, I started eying up the guys.... Derek, a burly rugby build of a dude, not too hairy, Mitchell the cute bearded cub, or Ken, a hairy guy who had a round beer belly that stuck out over a preppy pair of chino shorts.

The dudes were friendly and that day I found out what I loved about bear culture was their laidback nature. Little of that attitude you could sometimes see in the scene. But damnit they're not interested in anyone but a fellow bear. I was a leaner, smoother young guy, and I was not who they went for.

It became particularly evident as the bear pack invited us back to a house party after. We were fish out of water, two lean, clean-shaven college guys among a bunch of bears, some in their 20s, some much older.

"Having a good time?" A guy in his mid-20s said as he walked up to me. He had a similar build to me, which on his somewhat older frame came across as more slender. Unlike me, he was real hairy, with a full dark beard trimmed at a half inch and a full pelt of chest hair. I gathered this is what guys meant by an otter. His question didn't seem friendly, but I was glad to have someone to talk to. I wasn't as outgoing as Nick.

"Oh yeah, it's great," I said. I was grateful to have something to do since I didn't have a fake ID for getting into the bars.

"Well, I guess it's fun slumming with the bears, huh?" His voice was icy and he added that I should go to the main gay neighborhood, which I guess he associated with the A-list gays. He gave a fake bitchy smile and walked past me.

I felt a little shaken, in part because I wondered if I was slumming. I mean, I thought a lot of the guys were hot. Not all of them, but hell why should I find everyone attractive? Maybe I should go. Even if I couldn't get into the bars, there were still lots of guys walking around.

Just then, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Ignore Craig," he said with a friendly smile. "He's territorial about who talks to his boyfriend."

"Whose his boyfriend?" I asked, completely unaware. I was aware of how attractive the guy talking to me was. Near my height at 5'11", thinning hair, neatly trimmed beard that was showing wisps of silver to match his temples. He probably wasn't that old, maybe 40 or just past, but when you're a college kid that seems a lot older. He had a thick body, with strong upper body muscle that filled out his T shirt and a modest belly that filled it out even more.

And then there was his smile. That won me over. "Jack... the burly guy over there."

I laughed. "I think we did small talk about life in the city. Really it was nothing."

"Yeah, Craig can be a little bitch." This guy then held out his hand. "I'm Phil."

"Jason," I said with a smile.

He had a fun masculine energy. He talked like a gay guy if that's a thing, but with a mellow baritone voice. It was hot. I figured I'd enjoy the small talk as he asked me about college and talked about his work. He could tell that I was excited to attend my first pride. And inwardly I figured that I'd just relish just how attractive he was as we talked.

"So how did you end up at a bear party?" Phil asked.

I shrugged and replied with a little laugh. "I dunno... we were just standing next to Mitchell and Ken, and my friend Nick struck up a conversation." I paused. "I guess stuff's tribal in the city's gay scene, huh?"

Phil nodded. "Guilty as charged," he chuckled. Then with a knowing look he added, "For the record, you're my fucking type to a T."

My heart did beat a little faster. The anticipation of getting laid came back quickly. "Lucky me, then," I said, doing my best to flirt back.

"Wanna come back to my place?" Phil asked, directly.

I laughed at the no-nonsense approach, but knew my answer. "Definitely." I set down my Solo cup and looked around. "Let me tell my friend I'm taking off."

I found Nick who gave me a wingman's tease for getting lucky. I told him I'd see him back at our hotel room.

Phil seemed happy, almost giddy as we walked down the street, each of us sneaking glances at one another. "You into bears?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I don't know to be honest," I answered. "I hope you don't mind my saying, but I'm into men with some extra padding." I felt nervous bringing it up.

He smirked as he looked at me. "Why would I mind? Do guys get upset when you bring it up?"

I blushed. "I guess I never actually told a guy I'm into that." It felt liberating but also scary to say it out loud.

Phil gave me a quick friendly pat to the back. "You can feel free to tell me, man...." he gestured to the next building. "This is my place."

We paused our conversation as we made our way up to his condo. But once inside, Phil wasted no time in stepping up and meeting me for a kiss. Up till this point I'd had a range of experiences with men... quick hookups, one failed attempt at dating another college guy, and my very hot one night stand with Coach Pat. This vibe was different, and Phil was sure of himself in the way of an out, experienced gay man.

I loved it, but half of it was being majorly horny. I'd been surround by gay men all day and had gotten worked up looking at the eye candy.

I put Phil in that category. Feeling emboldened, I ran my hands openly over his belly, feeling the softness through his T-shirt, as he felt up my back.

"So..." he said as we finally broke the kiss. "You like some extra padding."

"God yes," I hissed, feeling glad I could be open about it.

He cocked his eyebrow. "You like em with a little more than mine, or a little less?"

From anyone eles that might have come across as insecurity, but I could tell Phil was trying to feel me out and work me up in the process. I replied with a clear excitement in my voice. "Sometimes less, actually, but you're perfect," I said. I took the initiative in running my fingers beneath the hem of his shirt to touch the furry stomach.

"So you're into dadbods," he observed.

It was 2015 and that was the first time I'd heard that term. But I didn't need it explained. Somehow I intuitively knew what it referred to, and I knew deep down that it was the perfect encapsulation of my core desire. My dick throbbed hard in my shorts.

"Like crazy, yeah," I said, still blushing some.

Phil stepped back and peeled off his shirt. While the fabric had held in his round midsection in, that belly now drooped a little. The man's body was solid, gym-built solid, but he didn't have that ex-jock look of Coach Pat. He was kind of a bearier version of a muscle bear. I was into it.

"Lose the clothes, Jason. I'm really horny."

So this wasn't going to be romantic. I could have easily gotten a little crushed out on this older man, but I'd take a Pride quickie. I disrobed as fast as I could, getting into the lusty way he looked at me as he took off his shorts and underwear. Phil had a shorter but thicker than average cock. It pointed straight up and fit his body somehow.

"Come on," he urged, and I followed him to his bedroom. From behind it was a magnificent view. Strong back and shoulders, power ass, and doughy love handles poking out on the sides. Phil's encouragement of my preferred body type made me emboldened. I stepped up behind him and gripped those fleshy love handles.

He chuckled and leaned back into my nakedness. "Looks like I hit the jackpot,” he hissed. "Horny college kid."

My dick felt rock hard against his ass, and I could feel that in addition to the meaty muscle, there was more than a little give to his buns as well. My hands cradled from his love handles to the front of his belly. "Man I'm the one who his the jackpot... fuck." I openly massaged his stomach and sides and got off on the fact Phil wasn't stopping me.

He reached back and between us, feeling around for my cock and gripping it. "We didn't discuss preferences, Jason... but I'd love for you to FUCK me," he grunted, putting a sexy emphasis on the word fuck.

I leaked in his hand. "Yeah?" I prodded. I'd never actually fucked a guy by that point and had only bottomed with two men. I was very game to do this.

"Fuck yeah," he hissed, then turned around and met me for a kiss. Our making out was very needy and sexual and we pawed at each other, kind of humping our cocks against one another.

Phil was leading this whole hookup, and I was following his lead. I was OK with that, particularly as I watched his meaty, beary body pull back and walk toward the bed. Roughly, he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand and grabbed some lube, flipping the cap to slick up his dick. "There's rubbers in there if you want."

Maybe it would have been better if my first time fucking a guy was more romantic or at least sensual. But I doubt it. I watched all 5'11" of his thick body get up on the bed, on all fours, spreading his legs lewdly. I'd have to learn about foreplay and rimjobs from another guy. Phil was eager to get mounted, and I realized I was in an impatient mood, too.

I picked up the lube and poured some on my hardon. Maybe too much, but I didn't know what I was doing and I figured he'd want extra slickness. And yeah, I looked at the condoms, but left them there in the drawer.

I got in place and teased that hairy crack. Phil flexed his buns for me and gave a satisfied grunt as I nudged at his pucker. I played with that ring with my overly slick cockhead, but after a half minute got the feeling Phil didn't need much working open. I pushed in.

"God yeah, man," Phil said, loudly. "Stick that teen cock in me."

I almost corrected him that I'd just turned 20, but I was only a few weeks past my teen years.

My dick sailed right in, the natural clenching of his guts no match for all the lube I'd slathered on. "Shit!" I gasped in turn, feeling my balls press against his ass. He was hot and snug inside, and I got off seeing his big body beneath mine.

Instinctively I thurst. Phil didn't tell me to stop or slow down, I just began fucking the man.

"Fuck, yes," he finally urged in that sexy voice of his. "Fuck my hole."

I did, getting real into it. If it hadn't been for the lube and the lack of friction, I would have nutted by then. Instead, I enjoyed the right amount of pleasure to keep my staying power going.

"Fuck me!" he urged.

"God, you're so fucking hot!" I hissed. I now grabbed those love handles again, so full in my hands. Then as I ran my hands up his firmer lats I could see the sides of his belly jiggle with my thrusts. That's what did it for me. I came and came hard.

"Fuck!" I gasped.

Phil knew what was going on. "That's it man, cum in me." He was flogging on his own prick and about ten seconds later I felt his ass clench down on my now spent prick as Phil entered his own orgasm.

I kind of collapsed on his back, then after a second dismounted him. Phil was all business after that. Not unfriendly, but it was clear the sex was over. He let me wash off then he thanked me for a good time and gave me a quick kiss at his condo door. "Happy Pride," he growled.

I'd never see the man again, but it was thanks to him that I had my horizons expanded. My first piece of ass, my first big city hookup, my first bear.

And my first bear had given me a new word for my desires: dadbod.

[scolbert22]

Slobby bear being controlled

Watch Fob Slob

Alek had meant well enough when it all started.

There was a sidewalk sale going on in the antique store below his apartment, and he was always looking for a new piece of furniture to brighten up his sad little studio, so he popped down. He had only just gotten to the bottom of the outdoor staircase connecting his door to the pavement below when he saw it glinting in a cardboard box marked "FREE". He reached into the box, curious.

When he withdrew his hand he saw he was holding a tiny medallion with a miniature painting of a lapdog on it. On the back, there was an inscription in a sturdy, archaic font:

OBEDIENCE

"That's a very unique piece," said a voice behind him.

Alek turned around to see Mrs. Lexington, the fiery little woman who ran the antique store.

"It is very beautiful, I love the little portrait!" Mrs. Lexington smiled, but there was a glint in her eyes he didn't recognize.

"Something tiny like that in a big old place like this is something special, only reveals itself to the person who ought to own it!"

"Do you know what it's purpose was?"

"It's a watch fob, kiddo! you attach it to a watch chain. And one like that is very unique indeed, the dog represents loyalty and obedience."

"Well, I don't own a watch with a chain, but..." Alek reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He plucked off a phone charm, some anime character his nephew had given him, and with some effort he attached the fob. "There!" He exclaimed cheerfully.

"You be careful with that, it's more responsibility than you know..." Mrs. Lexington said, her face deadly serious.

"Of course, Mrs. L. I would never lose something I got from your shop, how would I live it down?" Alek laughed. "Oh shoot, you know I forgot my wallet! Let me run back upstairs and I'll be right back down. You know I've had my eyes on that chaise lounge!" He was marching back up the wood stairs when he felt a sudden softness below his left foot and then a terrible snapping sound as his leg plunged through the rotten plank.

"AAAAHHH" Alek cried as he stumbled. Thankfully he was only on the third step, and pulled out his leg with a bit of effort. "This stupid staircase should have been repaired years ago, I could have been hurt!" he fumed. He took a photo with his phone and headed toward his landlord's house, a block away.

____________________________________________________________

Tony Marucci was sitting back in his easy chair watching March Madness when he heard the aggressive pounding on his door. He got up and waddled over to the door, pulling his basketball shorts up over the three inches of exposed, fur-lined ass crack. The giant man had been a college athlete himself once, 10 years ago. However, the multiple properties he inherited from his dad coupled with his natural laziness had slowly but surely the Italian Stallion into a lumbering bear. He opened the door and looked down at the angry little otter who lived in his property stood there with fire in his eyes.

"What can I do you for, Alex?" Tony asked easily leaning against the doorway on one arm. He flashed a hairy, unwashed pit and his wifebeater rode up. He scratched his fuzzy midriff and watched the poor little guy's resolve falter. Tony wasn't queer or nothin', but he always loved attention, especially if he could use it to shut up whiny tenants.

The yappy little dude ran a hand down his bearded face quickly and his anger had returned. "I just stepped through one of the rotten planks on my staircase, which I told you needed to be replaced! You need to get someone to fix those immediately or-"

"Listen Adam," The giant man bowled over the irritating little tirade. "All complaints must be put in writing and submitted via email, we've talked about this."

"I did that! Two months ago! And you ignored me! Now I have come in person to tell you if you don't get someone on it immediately I will withhold my rent, which I think you will find is within my rights in this city!" Tony didn't know if he wanted to punch the little dork or give him a noogie like he was an annoying little brother. He took in a deep breath and sighed.

"Do you have photographic evidence of the damage?"

The little dweeb practically jumped out of his skin getting his phone. "Yes indeed I do, I'd like you to take a look at these! I could have been killed! And Mrs. Lexington is my witness, these stairs need to..."

The yapping continued incessantly as tony looked down at the photo of the hole in the step. He rolled his eyes at the minor damage when something glinted just outside of his vision. What is that? He thought absently, his eyes following the dangling charm on his tenant's phone. So prettyyyy.... The charm twirled around and a word flashed across his eyes and burned deep into his brain:

OBEDIENCE

The slob's scruffy jaw went slack, falling open. A string of drool slowly spooled as the little man in front of him continued to emphatically prattle in his direction.

_____________________________________________________

"I bet I could get some of your other tenants together and start a strike, I'm sure you treat them just as neglectfully as you treat me, is that what you want Mr. Maru- ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME MISTER MARUCCI?" Alek was red in the face from his one-sided argument. when he finally looked at up at the landlord, the man was staring at nothing with his face and arms slack.

"listeninggggg" groaned the entranced bear.

"Wha- what are you doing?" Alek said, suddenly worried the handsome slob was having a stroke.

"Obeeedieeent" he crooned in reply, giggling dumbly.

Alek was confused for a second, and then remembered the word on the watch fob. "Are you...no, that's insane..." He regarded his landlord suspiciously. "Stand up straight."

The entranced goon in front of him immediately complied, his arms at his sides and his feet together. His jaw snapped shut, and he looked like a chubby toy soldier. Alek didn't know how to react, and he laughed frantically. He ushered his unwitting victim into his own house. I wonder what I can get away with, he thought to himself.

"Take off your shirt" He commanded imperiously. The bear complied, peeling off his sweaty wifebeater and revealing his hair peppered belly, chest, shoulders, and back. Alek reached out gingerly. He was scared of breaking the spell, but as he felt the warm, pliant flesh of his landlord's belly, the man simply leaned into his touch and hummed a single, needy note in the back of his throat.

"Do fifteen jumping jacks." The man instantly followed instructions, bouncing in time in a way that waws nearly hypnotic to Alek. His silky basketball shorts slowly migrated down his hips as he jumped, revealing that he was going commando, and that he had never heard of manscaping. Finally, with most of his pubes and half his ass hanging out, he stopped and stood up straight. "Behave normally."

Tony seemed to snap out of it with a snort, but he was still clearly fully absorbed by Alek. "Hey Alek! Don't worry about that staircase, I'll someone out there as soon as possible, I promise."

"In the meantime, I can stay here with you." Alek suggested.

"In the meantime, you can stay here with me!" Tony smiled, as if he'd come up with it.

"It could take a month for someone to get out there so I'll make myself at home." Alek smirked

"It could take a month for someone to get out there so please make yourself at home." Tony parroted hanging off his tenant's every word so much that they felt more like his true thoughts than his actual internal monologue.

"I can take your bed obviously, rent-free, and I can use your body however I see fit. You'll love whatever I do to you."

"You can take my bed obviously, rent-free, and you can use my body however you see fit. I'll love whatever you do to me" The mindfucked landlord grinned stupidly back.

"I'm so glad to hear it, Mr. Marucci, or should I say Tony" Alek grinned. Now why don't you show me to the bedroom, and you can show me just how sorry you are for breaching our contract?" In a flash, the giant bear was leading his new owner to his bed to start the beginning of his new life.

A life of Obedience

[lousyfuckingratboy]

tw transgender self negativity

im so embarrassed to refer to myself as a gay trans guy i think im gonna stop bc its not a title i can live up to. i don't think i'll ever find any kind of love or comfortable sex in the gay male community. i'm not casual or virile or fun or loose. i don't want to bottom, idk how to top and i don't think anyone will ever have the patience to let me try it. every semi awkward encounter i've ever had hangs around my throat. men always treat me as the cute aw shucks adorable little proto boy i can't stand it. i dont want to be a subby hypertwink bottom and i don't want to be a hairy balding bear/otter bottom and i don't think there's any other trans entry point. im just a short twunkish virgin top w no dick. i can already feel it i know i'm gonna end up giving in and hooking up with a catboys and afabs "pansexual" sidesmiling softboy top and it's gonna make me feel so cringe from 70 different angles.. i know i have it in me to be sexually competent in the way i wish myself to be but idk if i can survive the experience building period i need to go through to get there. i don't have the mental fortitude. god i feel like such a incel bitch but i just don't think i have any way into the world of sex that won't mentally eviscerate me. im just too complicated and neurotic and soft. i think i was meant to be a priest or a lesbian but im just too agnostic about both god and women to follow the call. fuck.

i always stave away this negativity by imagining that my perfect prince is right around the corner but honestly even if he was i think i'd fumble bad bc everyone fucks up their first relationship and i know i reek of all this lovely sexy desperation and self consciousness that would be putting guys off before theyre even in my field of vision. i need to put myself out there the only way out is through but dfguywakusyevfjv sdfgwuigbv;t iy;9w8eyb eytt9; ye;9iyb ;wttyawljafhufahgduhuhgfuu

[bi-buddha]

Scruff Categories

How do you identify?

Daddy: An older man, often more mature and nurturing, who might be sought after by younger men for a mentor-like, caring, or authoritative relationship. Daddies often have a protective or dominant persona.

Bear: A large, often hairy man who is typically but not exclusively older. Bears are known for embracing body positivity and masculinity, though the community includes all body types and personalities.

Guy Next Door: A man who has a friendly, approachable, and casual personality, usually without any exaggerated traits or behaviors. He’s someone who might be described as "ordinary" but attractive due to his simplicity and relatability.

Muscle: Refers to men who have a highly muscular physique. In the bear scene, this might be the equivalent of “muscle bears,” who combine bulk and muscle mass, often seen as strong and physically powerful.

Chaser: A person, often thinner or less hairy, who is attracted to bears and seeks them out. A "chub chaser," for example, is attracted to heavier men.

Leather: This term refers to a subculture within the LGBTQ+ community, focused on leather clothing and accessories, often associated with BDSM and kink practices. Leather enthusiasts value power exchange, control, and discipline dynamics.

Poz: Short for HIV-positive, this term is often used in dating profiles to describe someone living with HIV. Within certain contexts, it’s a way to provide transparency about health status.

Discreet: Refers to someone who prefers to keep their sexuality or relationships private, sometimes due to personal, cultural, or social reasons. Often used by people who are not openly gay or bi in their everyday lives.

Geek: A man who is passionate about intellectual, technical, or niche interests, such as comics, video games, tech, sci-fi, or fantasy. The geek identity celebrates intelligence, curiosity, and fandom.

Jock: A physically fit, athletic man who emphasizes sports or fitness culture. Jocks are associated with a sporty, active lifestyle, often focusing on their physical appearance and capabilities.

Chub: A heavier-set man, often celebrated within the bear community for embracing their larger body size. Chubs are often appreciated for their softness and warmth.

Military: Refers to men who are or were in the military, often valued for their discipline, masculinity, and strength. Military men may be admired for their authority and structured lifestyles.

Otter: A slimmer or medium-built man, often hairy like a bear but with less body mass. Otters are sometimes seen as a middle ground between a bear and a twink.

Bisexual: A person who is attracted to both men and women, though not necessarily in equal measure. Bisexual individuals may experience different levels of attraction depending on the person.

Transgender: Refers to someone whose gender identity differs from the sex they were assigned at birth. Trans men and trans women may or may not undergo medical transitions to align their physical body with their gender identity.

Queer: An umbrella term used by people who identify as part of the LGBTQ+ community. Queer can include diverse sexual orientations, gender identities, and expressions. It’s a fluid and inclusive term.

Drag: The performance of exaggerated gender presentation, often for entertainment. Drag queens (typically men performing as women) and drag kings (women performing as men) use costumes, makeup, and personas to challenge and play with gender norms.

College: Refers to younger men who are often students, typically in their late teens or early twenties. It’s sometimes a stand-in for youth, freshness, and the pursuit of higher education or personal development.

Twink: A young, slim, often smooth-bodied gay man, usually in their teens to early twenties. Twinks are typically perceived as youthful, cute, and energetic.

[agayvampire]

~♡ pinned post ♡~

Welcome! My name is Moss, I am a non-binary artist who has many original characters, both humanoid and furries, and even some uncategorized creatures :3

Furries are tagged 🌿furries , humanoids are tagged 🌿humanoids and other creatures are tagged 🌿creatures . Art is tagged 🌿art and text fiction posts are tagged 🌿fiction

The following is a list of my OCs with a short description and the tag to find them at in this blog!

List under the cut

Aaron

Tag: 🩸Aaron [He is the one this blog is named after, the gay vampire lol. He is the oldest OC I still create about :0 I created him in like 2013 or so?] [He/him] [cis, gay, aromantic] [in his 30s in human years, probably several hundreds of years old fr] [appearance: tall/lean, muscular, hairy and bearded, long brown hair and a tanned skin tone, many piercings, a tattoo sleeve] [he is a vampire by night and during the day he acts like he is just another gay vegan hipster, next to hipster, his "real" vibe is baroque-esc goth, mostly feminine clothes like dresses en corsets]

Moss

Tag: 🪻Moss [yeah I know they have the same name as me idk man lmao... he is my main fursona, basically me if I was physically a furry] [23] [he/they] [nonbinary transmasc] [neurodivergent] [aro/ace spec] [appearence: average height, soft/curvy in a masc way??, lavender grows from his neon green hair, their main fur color is lilac, they are based off a maned wolf, he has many piercings, his vibe is soft grunge/artist core]

Angie

Tag: 🔪Angie [one time someone called him a "scene queen" and tbh yeah. Also big anarchist] [he/they/it] [20s] [transmasc agender] [neurodivergent] [aroace] [energetic af] [appearence: it is based off a skunk, dark brown and soft white are their main fur colors. His hair is hot pink with a checkered pattern streak. The same pattern is on its tail, he has many piercings, their whole vibe is 2000s emoscene]

Dante

Tag: 🍓Dante [my oldest fursona that still exists! I made them in that era of the Internet where the "soft boi aesthetic" was a thing, so that is his vibe] [early 20s] [he/they] [ftm] [gay] [theatre kid and a big emotional softie] [neurodivergent] [appearence: they are based off an otter, his main fur colors are a soft brown and a soft white, added details are pastel blue and pink (can change), he has pastel blue, teal, purple and pink hair, and from his head grows a strawberry, they have a band aid on their nose and an earring in one ear]

Bobbie

Tag: 🎃Bobbie [it is a shape-shifter, it's shape can alter from humanoid, furry, animalistic, monstrous or anything in between. It has no facial features, except from when it experiences strong emotions, then features show up] [ancient] [it/its] [agender] [neurodivergent] [semi verbal] [appearence: it can have different shapes, but it's color scheme is always the same, dark and light brown, orange, black and glow in the dark yellow/green, when wearing clothes it's vibe is goblincore/nature grunge]

Rain

Tag: 🌈rain [he is based off the colorscheme of the album In Rainbows by Radiohead. He is based off a rat as well] [just a little clown guy, short] [early 20s] [he/him] [transmasc] [gay t4t] [ace] [very energetic when anxious, calm when comfortable] [uses humour to cope] [neurodivergent] [appearence: his colors are all color picked from the Radiohead album In Rainbows. His fur pattern makes it seem like he is wearing clown makeup, he wears a clown hat and a big clown collar, his fur pattern has rainbow colors underneath his top surgery scars]

TV-head (unnamed)

Tag: 📺TV head [He is a spirit/angel who protects forest animals against being hunted by humans, he is a big fluffy guy with a TV for a head because he is both nature and technology in spirit] [ancient yet modern] [he/him] [gender and sexuality are not for him] [big sweetheart, loves hugs, but very good at fighting when needed] [he lives alone, but is always aware of every forest animal in his forest and can sense when they are in pain or fear] [appearence: huge! Big hands/arms, covered in beige fur, on his back grows moss/grass and flowers (may change with the seasons), his head is a TV with glowing red eyes on the screen for a face]

I have more OC's but their concepts are currently unfinished.

[alygatorwrites]

Hii, I love your writing so much 🥺 May I request Reiner x reader where they go on a date to a zoo 💞🥺? He seems like the perfect person to go see cute animals with 🙄🥰

a/n: aww oh my god i love this idea! i just know reiner has a soft spot for animals 😭 here’s a short little fic! thank you for requesting hun 💕

pairing: reiner x reader

warnings: none! this is straight up fluff y’all

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

a date at the zoo with reiner 

intimidating.

many people would describe reiner braun as such - and with good reason, too. between his towering height, the broad expanse of his frame, and that solid composure, it’s only natural that he seems like a daunting man.

he’s quite the opposite, actually; the epitome of a gentle giant.

when you ask reiner if he wants to go see some wildlife, he agrees instantly. while you originally thought that it was because he wanted to please you, it turns out that the idea of it was just as appealing to him as it was to you.

your fingers intertwine with reiner’s as you stroll through the zoo, palms flush, and he lets you swing your hands with every step. it’s such a cheesy display of affection and has your heart melting. 

that’s when you come to a realization; reiner loves animals.

you don’t notice it at first until the both of you reach the otter exhibit. when you glance up at reiner, his eyes are twinkling with interest. he pats you on the arm to make sure you’re paying attention when two otters flip onto their backs and snuggle into one another. perhaps it’s to prevent them from drifting apart. 

“oh my god,” you gasp, smiling at your boyfriend’s reaction. reiner doesn’t look away from the otters, but he leans into your side, and radiates a warmth you’ve come to know over the past few years. “they’re so cute.”

“yeah,” reiner nods. there’s a rare whisper of fascination blooming across his expression, making you weak at the knees. “that’s us.”

it’s so fucking funny and random that it has you laughing, and reiner’s face grows pink like he didn’t even realize what he said. 

with every animal you visit, reiner studies the informational plates outside the exhibits, reading about the wildlife. you’re in charge of the holding the map - and although you go the wrong direction a few times - reiner doesn’t mind. he actually finds it funny as you screw up your face in confusion and try to figure out where you led him. it’s made better when he gets a great view of the red pandas and the tigers.

when you point at an orangutan and mention how it looks like zeke, reiner laughs a little.

“i'm being serious,” you say, squinting through the glass. “doesn’t it kinda look like him? the way it’s sitting and everything.”

“it doesn’t,” reiner chuckles gently. his hazel eyes are full of fondness, the sharp features of his face softening as he tilts his head to gaze at you. you’re filled with so much love for this man that it almost hurts.

reiner lets a palm rest on your lower back then, innocent and resolute as he leads you to the giraffes. he ends up mumbling something about how the monkey does look like zeke - just a tiny bit. 

eventually, you reach the aquatic room where a group of stingrays swim in an open tank. there’s a cautious wonder in reiner’s fingertips as he reaches down to pet one. after catching you staring, he tenderly guides your hand downward so you can touch it, too.

“didn’t steve erwin die from one of these?”

“don't touch the barb,” reiner says seriously, like he thinks you actually might do it. the hilarity of it all has you smirking.

the tarantulas are the one thing reiner doesn’t enjoy looking at. he steps up to the glass, sees the spiders, and immediately pulls a face of discomfort. you can’t blame him though; those things are hairy as hell. 

after a lovely lunch and rainbow snowcones, the day finally comes to an end. reiner’s cheeks are a little sunburned, and his blonde hair is ruffled from the summer wind. you tease him about it, but he only pecks you on the forehead. 

it’s the first time you’ve ever had a date at a zoo, and certainly not the last.  

[surveillance-0011]

Grumpus Headcanon Designs + Animal Traits (Updated!)

Updated version of a previous post. Copy and pasted the ones that remained the same.

Filbo- Sea otter-ish. Soft fur and a rounded tail. Paws, his claws are usually well trimmed.

Lizbert- Features are something between that of a wolf’s and a walrus’s or seal’s. Tail was longer but she lost most of it in her misadventures. Now all that’s left is a stub. Fur can get matted or coarse from all her adventures but it is soft with the correct maintenance. Claws are usually worn and not in the best of shape from all her adventures. Fur is a bit speckled too.

Eggabell: Albino. Vaguely ursine. Big paws. Fluffy, but her face lacks fur. She has tiny freckles! Short bear or rabbit-like tail. Unlike bears, her claws can retract. 

Wambus- Kangaroo and bear like features. Fur is a bit longer and tends to be not as soft from constant working and all that stuff. Has a mane and bit of a beard, as well as long, floppy ears. Claws are strong but chipped and dirty from work.

Triffany- Like a combination of a primate and an opossum. No paws, instead orange hands and feet like an ape. Her tail is also orange and is furless like an opossum’s. Nails instead of claws, they’re usually chipped or dirty from work.

Gramble: Pretty much a rabbit without ears and with claws (or at least longer nails). Instead of paws he just has those weird hairy hands and feet that they do. His fur and claws are both unkempt during Snaktooth but afterwards he is better at taking care of them.

Wiggle: Very sleek fur. Kind of.. ferret-ish? Or like a river otter. Short tail. Claws are well taken care of, and she trims them so they aren’t as sharp.

Beffica- Doglike features, some seal or bear like too. Tail is short but has longer fur than most of the others’. It’s the same color as her hair! Claws are well taken care of and she files them so they’re rather sharp.

Cromdo: Basically a chimera. He’s got boar hooves for feet. He either has hooves on his forelimbs too or rat/opossum/mole hands. Tail has a little tuft of fur on the end.

Snorpy: Paws for hands, bird-like talons for feet. Stripes on his limbs and neck, and down his back a bit. Tail like a lion, and his hair is a bit manelike and goes down his neck. Claws are decently taken care of but chipped bc... yknow, inventing and stuff.

Floofty: Talons for hands, paws for feet. Stripey or patchy fur pattern, and it is more prominent on their arms and legs. They also naturally have more of a mane but they trim it. Their tail is between a poodle’s and a raccoon’s. Claws are a bit overgrown.

Chandlo: Very seal/walrus like. Paws for hands but seal-flippery feet. Sleek fur and either a bear-like or no tail. Maybe a leopard-like pattern?

Shelda: Very sloth like. Pretty much a sloth with weird eyes and hands. Stubby unnoticeable tail. Her hands have sloth like claws but have a sort of froglike quality to them. Her fur is patchy and thin due to age. Eyes are... froggy?? Or like a goat or octopus. Might have quills, too.

Clumby: Wrinkly like a sphynx cat but does have a thin layer of rather soft fur. The way her skin folds makes her look like she’s wearing a turtleneck 24/7. Takes good care of her claws.

And a little bonus!! Breecil is very bat-like. Sharp fangs, may or may not have wings and bat ears, short tail, and has the same weird nose that most bats do.

[bvcky-brns]

Fill My Cup

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Notes: Here I go, posting something I wrote again. Who am I? This falls under the “write what you want to read” category. I’ve been really stressed at work lately. COVID has been tough, I am an extrovert and I miss people, I’m battling depression and anxiety, and I just wish I had a Bucky to hug me from behind and bring me fresh coffee when I need another cup. Teeny tiny little drabble, feedback always appreciated. 

Text divider by @whimsicalrogers​.

It’s the quiet moments, the moments in between the big ones, that make you fall a little bit more in love with Bucky every day. 

Right now, you have a headache pulling at your senses and your body is sore from spending too much time hunched over your laptop, trying to stay afloat in the onslaught of tasks that no part of you wants to do at the moment. Working from home has been hard—although you won’t complain about the extra time it’s given you with Bucky—for an extrovert who enjoys being out in the world, staying at home is draining. Your motivation is at an all-time low, and it hadn’t escaped Bucky’s notice that you’d reached to take a sip from your empty coffee cup more than once in the last half hour. 

Closing his book, he rose from the couch wordlessly and made his way to the kitchen. Muscle memory took him through selecting your favorite blend and a fresh mug, the one that portrayed an otter in a Hogwarts uniform with the words “Hairy Otter”. You’d gotten it on your first trip together to the local aquarium and you had giggled about the word pun and the illustration the whole way home. 

Coffee brewed and dressed up just the way you like it, Bucky headed back into the living room. He reached over your shoulder and replaced the empty mug with the fresh one. Strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, he dropped a kiss on your cheek. Your hands settled on his arms and you leaned back into his embrace. 

You turned your head, tilting your face up for him to give you another kiss, this time on your lips. Soft and unhurried. “Thank you, honey.”

“Anytime, doll.” He held you close for another moment, then pulled back to go place the old mug in the sink. You watched him go with a grateful smile, just a little more prepared now to face the rest of the day. 

Working from home has been hard, but having Bucky home with you makes it all the more bearable.

[ao3bronte]

🐞Little Lady Paws🐾

0 | 1 | 2

Ladybug gets into a "hairy" predicament when an akuma capture goes wrong.

A collaboration between @ao3bronte​ and @yamina20-blog​ 💕

“Remind me why you thought this was a good idea?”

Surrounded by animals, Chat Noir lands gingerly on the top of a light post and scowls spectacularly, having just peeled himself off the sod in the park across from Sacré-Coeur. This isn’t their first animal themed akuma and it certainly won’t be their last, judging by the increasing frequency of angry protesters flooding the streets of Paris; there’s always something to protest it seems, and Le Papillon was having an absolute field day targeting them all.

Today’s protest themed akuma of the hour? FrankenFur!

“Hey!” Chat rubs at the grass stain on his belly as a panicked giraffe goes running by and sticks his tongue out at the akumatised monster who’d just tossed him like a Frisbee halfway across Marcel-Bleustein-Blanchet Square, “This wasn’t my idea, this was your idea!”

Ladybug throws her hands into the air, “You led it over here!”

The monster, dressed in a pseudo animal activist uniform and spouting endangered animal facts to all who would listen, throws another magic smoke bomb at a group of unsuspecting visitors, “There are too many tourists at the front of the Basilica! There’s less chance for collateral here and besides, we weren’t getting anywhere anyway. We still don’t know what the object is!”

The smoke clears to reveal a family of farm animals lying on the ground and Ladybug swoops to get out of the way of the panicking herd, landing on a tree branch, “Could it be in the protest sign it’s holding?”

Chat flexes his hand and spins his baton in his other, steadying himself, “It’s worth a shot.”

Ladybug calls for her Lucky Charm and immediately notices the strings of fairy lights hanging atop the pergola the akumatised protester is standing upon as well as the sewer grate embedded in the concrete directly across from it. Dodging a flock of ducks, Ladybug catches a red and black polka dot crowbar and swings it between her fingers, “Chat, try and tangle it up in the string of lights over there.”

Chat follows her gaze and nods once, leaping from the lamp post to the tree tops. Meanwhile, Ladybug runs over to the sewer grate and lodges the business end of the crowbar beneath the steel lip, quickly prying it open.

“AhhhAAAAGHH!”

Ladybug peers into the puddle of rainwater in the divot by the grate and uses its reflection to watch as Chat expertly dislodges the fairy lights and drops them unceremoniously onto the akumatised monster. The creature screams as it tangles itself in the mass of wire and glass and tosses its limbs every which way like a deranged octopus, howling curses at the top of its lungs.

Amongst all of the chaos, Ladybug launches her yoyo and wraps it around the monster’s legs, unbalancing its already lopsided stance. Chat sees where she’s going with this and drop kicks the creature in the back just as Ladybug yanks the string, causing the akuma to topple forward towards the manhole, and with another well timed feat of synchronised backflip ingenuity, the dynamic Cat and Bug duo have the monster falling headfirst into the hole and Ladybug is certain she’s got the protest sign in her sights—

“LADYBUG!”

She looks up and feels time slow to a crawl, watching as the akumatised monster uses the very limited range of motion it has in its arm to launch one last grenade at her face. Ladybug can’t move, not really, not when one arm is reaching for the sign and the other is wrapped up with her yoyo and—

It feels a little like falling into a giant tub of Perrier, the tingling sensations on her skin almost overwhelming. There’s static in her ears and panic in her heart as she closes her eyes and holds her breath against the onslaught of colours and shapes swirling passed her eyelids, a cacophony of noise so loud she can hardly stand it. She reaches up to cover her ears but there’s no moving in this strange purgatory as the world falls out from under her, shoving her to the cobbles with a thud that jars her bones. She tries to cry out but there’s no sound save for the high pitched squeak coming out of her throat like a siren, and it occurs to her suddenly that something has gone very very wrong.

She opens her eyes.

The world is suddenly a lot larger than it was before.

HELP!

“CATACLYSME!”

Ladybug looks up just in time to see her gigantic, skyscraper of a partner disintegrate the sign with his fingers and backhand the monster into the manhole, reaching down with his monstrous hand to pick up her yoyo. Ladybug shrieks insistently as he slips his finger through the loop and tosses it at the fluttering black and purple butterfly, quickly capturing the cursed insect in his grasp. He calls the yoyo back and stares at it for several moments before bending down into a crouch, holding it out for her to see.

“Ladybug? What do I do now?”

Throw the crowbar up into the air and say Miraculous Ladybug!

Chat gulps, “I have no idea what you’re saying.”

Ladybug looks down at her tiny paws and does a double take, What AM I?

“Now that I could understand,” Chat says, reaching out with his other hand. She gives him what she hopes is a truly devastating stink eye and rears up onto her hind legs with a particularly petulant squeak, “You’re a hamster.”

A HAMSTER?! Ladybug’s jaw drops and her paws are on her face immediately, patting every part of her she can reach. She’s got whiskers! And huge front teeth! And fur! Fur everywhere! Why am I a HAMSTER?!

Chat has the gall to laugh, “Oh my god, you are so adorable.”

I AM NOT!

“Come on, get on my hand before someone steps on you.”

NO!

Chat places his open palm on the ground and beckons her forwards with his fingers, “There’s like, three elephants over there and the last thing we need is for you to get squashed.”

Indignant, Ladybug tries for several humiliating moments to cross her arms and finds herself entirely at a loss. She glares at his outstretched hand with contempt for almost as long before finally giving in and marching over, determined to stay on her hind legs like any self respecting human should. She gets a good look at her body then, the soft tuft of white fur covering her belly and her tiny hind paws. How the heck was she supposed to purify the city as a hamster?!

Momentarily distracted, Ladybug stumbles over one of Chat’s claws and falls onto all fours as the ground disappears beneath her, HEY!  

Smiling indulgently at her little squeaks of horror, Chat brings her to eye level, “Thank you. Now, should I just throw this in the air and say Miraculous Ladybug?”

Ladybug nods in earnest, chirping as she mimes the movement with her paws. Chat tries his hardest to suppress his giggles and turns his attention back to the crowbar in his hands.

“Here goes nothing. Miraculous Ladybug!”

Ladybug tracks the crowbar with her eyes and watches as it falls back into his hand, still as spotted and corporeal as it was before. She tugs on his thumb and gestures for him to try again.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” he yells with gusto, tossing it yet again into the sky. When it falls back down in front of him, Ladybug realises with an awful sense of dread that she is very much screwed, “Ladybug? I think we have a problem.”

No kidding! She tugs on her whiskers and rubs her eyes, What are we going to do?

Chat sighs, “I guess we can’t purify the city like this. We’ll need to go see Master Fu.”

Ladybug nods vigorously and chatters as Chat clips her yoyo onto his belt and glances away as a flock of ostriches run across the square, “And quickly! This is otter pandamonium!”

Chat Noir’s laughter at his own puns turns to howls as Ladybug bites down on his index finger with all the prim resentfulness she can muster; she may have been turned into a hamster, but at least some things would never change.

To be continued...

[welcometoels]

Session Fourteen - Dragonhall

Though she may be a full foot taller, with pointier ears, darker hair and an overall more High Elf vibe, the person standing before the party is definitely Zanthia, and she has plans for everyone.

The guards at their target location - Dragonhall - are all High Elves, so a certain amount of disguising is going to be required.  Anemia, Talion and Cailynn all need the least work - the right amount of foundation and a silver cloak will be sufficient.

For Kadis, Zanthia dips into her wardrobe of disguises.  A pair of false pointy ears under the right wig fits the bill.  She also has a peek under his eye cover, then has second thoughts.  Something about those eyes is just too peculiar to pass for Elven.

Oddsock, she leaves pretty much as he is, though she does swap out the top hat and monocle for a silver cape.  He keeps the bowtie.

It’s Julius who presents the most difficulty.  No amount of makeup, cloaks or fake ears will make an Otter look like an Elf.  For this job, she positions Julius in front of her largest mirror, and - quite literally - works her magic.

With her left palm upon her mask pendant, and her right on Julius’ head, Zanthia utters a few words of power, and the druid begins to change: his skin becomes smoother, paler and less hairy, and his body more slender and willowy.  In a matter of moments, Julius the Otter is now Julius the Elf - though his hair still has that wet look.

Now everyone looks the part, the group heads to the stables on the edge of town - Julius staring in disbelief at his new hands all the way.  At the stables, the same miserable administrator who greeted them at the other side of town meets them once again, with the same charm and vigour.  He take a slightly soggy horse receipt from Mr O Sock, and fetches a pair of horses.

Zanthia also produces a ticket, and more horses are produced.  Two of them are much the same as the others, even down to their names, but the last is altogether fancier, darker and shorter.

Zanthia mounts this last horse, while the rest of the party finds room on the other four.  Oddsock and Julius listen in on the horse chat as they ride, and they become a little concerned about that little one...

His name is Storm Hellflayer, and he has seen things that would turn your mind to soup.  He doesn’t care who you are, or where you’re from - he only wants to know one thing:

Do you have any sugarlumps?

Julius reaches into his pack and pulls out a handful of sweet grass, which Storm accepts begrudgingly.

After a short while, the group arrives at Dragonhall - a well-appointed, two storey building surrounded by trees, just on the outer outskirts of Monthend.  They park their steeds in a small copse - with Storm positioning himself a little away from the others.

A couple of guards stand at the front, and the group hesitantly introduces themselves as the night shift.  The guards are suspicious at first, but send them through to talk to the boss - a man called Wandbutt.

Wandbutt is a grizzled old veteran who takes an immediate dislike to the team - not least because they use what they innocently thought was his actual name, but which is actually an insulting nickname that refers back to a moment of youthful misadventure.

He grills the group thoroughly.  While he is a little uncertain about the slick-haired individual who calls himself Julius P Manman, he is more concerned about the blind gentleman.  Kadis assures Wandbutt that his other senses are honed to perfection, and Wandbutt tests this by throwing an apple straight at his face.

Without the slightest fumble, Kadis snags the fruit from the air, and nonchalantly takes a bite.  Wandbutt is sold, and promptly packs up his belongings from the reception desk, and leaves.

Once the actual guards are gone, Zanthia lays out her plan:  She and Anemia will break into the basement cells, via a locked door at the back; Talion should go upstairs to check for information on the dragon hunters, and the others should split themselves throughout the rest of the building, with at least one person on the door as lookout.

Julius - the most perceptive of the bunch - takes door duty, while Cailynn joins Talion upstairs.  Kadis opts to stay on the ground floor to check the rooms there.  Oddsock offers his help in unlocking the door, since his Acid Splash was - in his mind - super effective in the past, but Zanthia assures him that his expertise is best employed elsewhere.

Initially feeling snubbed, Oddsock swiftly bounces back once he smells food under a nearby door.  After a bit of trial and error involving a doorknob, Oddsock finds some leftover chicken on a breakroom table, and successfully navigates the bones to enjoy a nice snack.

Upstairs, Talion and Cailynn opt to explore the upstairs from the back.  They enter a plush room, dominated by a heavy wooden desk with an enormous chair behind it, and a tiny wee stool in front.

Talion, mindful of traps, successfully avoids them all - not a difficult task, since there aren’t any.  Cailynn makes a beeline for some shelves at the back, finding a handful of trophies - sporting, commerce, and, yes, hunting trophies - and several carefully bound bundles of paperwork.

Downstairs, Kadis investigates the reception desk.  At first, he sees nothing - visual perception is still not his strong suit, thanks to the imperfect psychic connection with his pet Beholder.  Using his fingers, though, he finds an interesting message carved into the desk:  Wandbutt Is A Twat.  Curious...

Outside, Julius carefully sets Rupert the fey weasel down on the ground, and begins to see the world through his beady eyes.  Rupert dashes down the side of the building, enjoying the feel of the grass on his belly and the fading warmth of the evening sun, and offering little of actual use.

Back at the fancy room upstairs, Talion and Cailynn finish up their exploration.  There is nothing under the desk but dust bunnies, and the trophies are only gold in appearance - pretty much a bust all round.  However, Cailynn does find mention of Banto’s Machinations & Artifices in one of the bound bundles, and tucks it into her pack as they leave the room.

Next up, they explore the largest room upstairs.  This one is noticeably less impressive, and packed with desks and shelves.  As they investigate, they find very little, though there is a calendar with a  picture of a boy in a wizard’s hat in front of a building called Midvale College For The Wise.  There’s a door with “PULL” written on it, and his pushing as hard as he can, and it’s all very amusing.

On the groundmost floor, Kadis is exploring the largest room, after checking in with the others via his enchanted necklace.  In there, he finds a large bank of desks all lined in a row, and a few pieces of uninspiring art.  Using touch in the hopes of discovering more hidden messages, he discovers only a splinter in his finger.

We leave Kadis contemplating his digits, and the bent arrow motifs on the walls - exactly the same as the ones in the dog-defiled church in town - and rejoin Rupert as he skitters round to the back of the building.  For a moment, he thinks he hears a owl, but it is a false alarm.  Thank goodness for that.

Oddsock, having thoroughly removed all of the food from the break room, has a good snuffle around, and notices that the previously locked door is now sat open, and Zanthia and Anemia are nowhere to be seen.  Popping through the door, he is momentarily stunned by a huge explosion from downstairs.

Kadis hears it from the big room.  Talion and Cailynn hear it upstairs, in the drab little meeting room they are exploring.  Julius hears it outside, and, presumably, so do the guards who are now approaching along the path.

Oddsock dashes down the stairs to find out what happened, and discovers the body of Anemia Rixme, crushed against a pillar behind an iron door.  Allowing his eyes to wander, he soon finds the gap that the door use to fill - a huge iron cell, much like a jail cell, but filled with money and valuables rather than people.

He also sees Zanthia, hunched over and stuffing gold into a bag, grumbling to herself about the idiot thief who couldn't even disarm a trapped door properly.  It is at this point that Oddsock begins to doubt that this was ever a rescue mission.

Being a dog of simple motivations though, he is much more interested in the stuff in the cage.  Zanthia is too busy shovelling cash into a sack to really care what Oddsock is up to, so he sniffs around.

Immediately, something catches his attention: A book, which is giving off a powerful magical aura - an aura that makes his fur stand on end and his toy dragon squeak.  The only thing he can make out on it is a name on the front: Sre’Yalp - the same name as the Codex where he stores his additional cantrips.  He levitates it into his pack for later perusal.

Out at the front, Rupert joins up with Julius, and the Otter man - disguised as an Elf man called Manman - looks directly at an actual Elf who is dressed head to toe in armour, and who is demanding explanations.  Julius panics and tries to talk his way out of it, but this knight-looking individual is having none of it.  He briefly turns to his companions - the two guards from before, Wandbutt, and a peaky-looking Herrington - and then looks back at Julius, ushering him inside to gather up his accomplices.

As they enter, Julius does something unexpectedly sneaky.  Touching a temporarily non-paw hand to his necklace, he thanks the “reinforcements” for turning up to help find the source of the explosion.

Kadis immediately understands the message, and secretes himself around a corner, while Talion and Cailynn pause at the foot of the stairs, just out of sight of the door, and Talion casts Mirror Image on himself to help in the inevitable fight. He also blesses Cailynn with her first taste of Bardic Inspiration.

Oddsock’s ears prick up at the sound of Julius’ voice, but before he can dash away, Zanthia asks him to do something - put his paw on his necklace.  After a little fumble, he does so, and she leans in as close as she can, saying, with a soft purr:

“See you, dragon boy”

And with that, she kisses one of her rings, and vanishes, leaving a baffled Oddsock to rush upstairs, where all hell is about to break loose.

As Oddsock emerges from the cellar door to join Kadis at the corner, Talion and Cailynn emerge from the stairs, and the artificer summons a plume of smoke from a hallway candelabra.

The scene is set for a rumble.  Let’s find out how it goes - NEXT TIME.

[official-cisphobe]

Regarding your twink post, I'm not trying to come from a place of being rude or argumentative, but I'm pretty sure twink/bear/hunk are body types of gay/mlm men. A common misconception is that they're personalities but I've always seen them as body types. I'm willing to concede I could have been misinformed though

they're definitely not just body types, yes there is a general idea but that general idea is flexible

similarly how "bear" can mean a hairy gay man who is really far or a hairy gay man who is generally muscular but with little to no fat, pretty much the only qualification for a bear is someone hairy with a big body type but a lot of people also depict bears as non-hairy

I could technically be a bear based on my body type, I'm hairy and I'm tall and generally chubby and strong. but I relate to otters more. why? because that's where the personality/perception of self comes in. bears are traditionally masculine because of the whole hairy and muscular thing, and while I am mostly masculine presenting I don't necessarily see myself as strictly a masculine person. I relate to the femininity, softness, and submissiveness associated with twinks.

and then there's my boyfriend... just today he said to me that he wants to be a 'real' twink and wishes he was skinny so he could 'actually be a twink' but here's the thing... he is as stereotypically twinky as they get, he's a "soft boy", he's feminine, he's short and shy and cute. the only difference between him and a "real" twink would be that he's not skinny and I think that weight being the only qualification for someone to be a twink is absolute bullshit. because what is he then? he's not a bear or even an otter because he's not hairy at all and not dominant in any sense of the word, he's not a hunk or twunk either because he doesn't have traditionally masculine features. he doesn't really have much anything in common any of the other types of achilleans. the only one he's actually like is a twink.

and like, historically, there has never been a rule that a twink has to be skinny. the overall stereotypical look of a twink is young-ish and submissive (which my boyf is). a lot of sites say twinks are around 18 to 25 years old but you don't stop being a twink just because you're 30 so why the hell should weight be an issue all of a sudden? just because some people don't find that attractive? in my opinion shy soft chubby twinks are adorable, twinks like my boyfriend. he's absolutely perfect the way he is and does not need to lose any weight for him to be concidered "actually a twink"

[beowulfs-booty-call]

SG Headcanons? SG Headcanons: Beowulf Edition™

Beowulf is stated to be very patriotic in his voice lines and Parasoul references his work “with” them, before rudely telling him to retire if she wins against him. This means that she also knew about the plan with the Medici Mafia to fight a drugged Grendel and win against him for the sake of the war against foreigners / the Skullgirls. However, this may also mean Beowulf participated in the war or had some sort of encounter with the royal family, if not being the entertainment for them in some manner. I personally think King Renoir oversaw his match against Grendel and made sure to work the deal so as to work up the favor for the canopy kingdom.

Beowulf also likes to drink Chamomile tea after first killing Grendel, it was offered to him as a way to sleep, and as such, it helped get over the restless nights where all he could sometimes do was realize… He may have actually killed a friend. I wanna think that there is some idea that he’s killed Grendel, but he’s repressed it into the psyche he plays off as Beowulf™

There’s been times Beowulf sits on the couch just to hope he can relax, but all he does is sit in his robe, boxers and tank top and just idles. His mind runs a whole bunch and he’s distracted with the idea of “What’s his purpose? What’s his use? What really is Beowulf?”

I actually project myself through Beowulf, lot like other characters such as Terra Branford or Eriko Kirishima, but I like to believe that Beowulf actually took his name up instead of being born with it. If not, he went with “Just Beowulf” instead because he’s a simple guy. That’s all he needs.

He’s also a really hard worker, but, he’s prone to sometimes over doing it AKA training every day with his weights or the gym because it’s been mentally drilled into him. If he wanted to be the best, he HAD to be the best. It’s one of the reasons he drinks Chamomile tea often: to relax and let things take place. At 37 years old, he was prone to feeling like he wouldn’t be able to finish every goal he wanted until he was “old”. He understands a bit better now that his accomplishments will last at the end of his storyline.

In the TV show Annie and Beowulf run, Beowulf is the superhero to the kids of New Meridian, while also taking on many new opponents in the ringside. He’s much more a WWE styled wrestler in that he’s back to being a celeb now, but still has his humble beginnings. He also has dated on and off again, but, even in the show he makes empty compliments / receives them from both genders. “What a strong man…” “Ah, thank you sir! Wulfman eats 8 dozen eggs every mornin’ just for trainin’!” “Oh… If only that amazing, handsome Captain Wulf was here…!” “Never fear, the Wulf is here! And… He’s free any time on Friday 8pm at Yu-Wan’s!”

Every morning he wakes up and does 125 squats, 200 pec decks, 225 crunches…

COMFORT CLOTHES EVERY DAY THIS MAN ONLY WEARS HIS BOXERS AND TANK TOPS OR SWEATS HE’S STILL A COLLEGE STUDENT.

When “incognito”, he just wears sunglasses and a baseball cap. Smooth.

Beowulf has also been a little on the chubby side as a kid, but mainly from eating well from backhome. I like to think he was born in the Canopian kingdom, but just has blood in other places he just hasn’t known or seen yet. It would make sense to the Geatish Trepak or Norse / Viking inspired moves to the original Beowulf anyhow. He came to the Canopy Kingdom fresh out the humble life and immediately found himself attracted to the rough and tumble before being let into the wrestling federation to prove his skills.

I like to think either he got his pelt from a Wolf he grew up with that later died peacefully, or, he hunted when he was younger before seeing a wolf die at the end of the hunt. No use for wolf meat where he came from, and in anger at the loss of life, he skinned the wolf for its pelt and vowed to take its place instead. He’s vehement of animal rights, but also tries his best to be open to nature despite hunting as his ideology is to live off the land with just what he needs.

I wanna also say that where Beo grew up in may have a cultural practice where the people take the pelts of animals they use to represent themselves. Bears for patriarchs/matriarchs, weasels / rats for children, otters for teens, and so on so forth. The wolf pelt was taboo and he later used it in rebellion to what he saw in it. Another idea is that the wrestling federation also has animal gimmicks as a way of bringing in the crowd Ala “The man from outta nowhere / Down under.”

Actually has a secret pen name and writes critiques about Operas / musicals and has an appreciation for Jazz as well as the late Contiello  family. He has been known to show up, decked out, and seat himself in the best seat, only to scream at the singers / actors with critiques. “JEEZ, MARIA, CAN YOU SING ANY LOWER? I CAN’T HEAR YOU FROM THE BALCONY.” “HEY SKULLBETH, DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND BREAK A LEG WITH THAT CLASS ACT.” “YOU CALL THAT AN ARIA, I CALL THAT DIAR–” Of course no one expects this, so, the surprise comes in the form of a well made, thought out essay based on the finer points of the actions and tribulations the actors did or sang. He’s also a stickler for analysis!

The Hurting was actually a parting gift from the local wrestling federation: Just like Hrunting was given to him by Unferth, The Hurting was given to Beowulf by his old sleazy manager where ironically, hasn’t proven unuseful to this day

Immediately and utterly distracted by dogs, he can’t help it. He’s consumed with love over them and would postpone a battle just to pet one.

Unlike the public opinion, he has a master’s degree in English as well as Sociology, though, he’s not one to flex the brain muscles because he has to maintain the psyche of a warrior half the time. This is why he always whispers when fighting with people, while also pretending wrestling is “real” and “isnt”, he’s more focused on maintaining character

Grendel can in fact hear everything Beowulf is saying pre-Marie death, however, all he hears is Beowulf’s fighting quotes: “RUNNIN’ WILD, ALL’S CHAIR, TAKE A LOAD OFF!” (I have a comic planned for this lol)

Grendel’s arm is partially sentient, though he can hear and act, he still gets where his “friend” is coming from time to time. 

The Hurting gets reupholstered time to time, lots of fashion choices to be really honest, too little time to decide.

Unironically, Beowulf actually digs wearing skimpy clothes / speedos when weather permitting / in the mood, however… He doesn’t understand the social aspects of one, so, one he ran into the ring in a regular wrestling speedo and well… Let’s just say there’s a reason the beta drew that ONLY.

Went to college with Adam Kapowski, though, he mainly spoke to him over complaining about his physical education courses / wrestling club “Look, man, I got this cute professor but like, he doesn’t know jack shit over suplexing. Why? BECAUSE EVEN VICTORIA CAN SUPLEX ME BETTER THAN HE CAN”

Has once met Ms. Victoria during his offseason time when retired and she thought he was a villain when he applied to be a librarian, however, when she shows up as D. Violet, and scopes him out “closing” up, she finds him… Bench pressing book cases before she hurries back, still very concerned over the fact that she has to share her students with a supposed gigan wrestler.

Children flock to him for advice and training, and he loves it. When working as a librarian, he would help tutoring or cheer on students, as well as the whacky prank of stealing the janitor’s mop and mobile and would ride it down the halls with the kids. 

When time came to retire out of retirement, the kids came together and made him a botched card thanking him for all he did. Later, he would return to the ring and dedicate his first match to those very kids, and Ms. Victoria, who all sat in the front seats to the match, each with free Wulf™ merch.

Victoria respects him after this, though, she believes he may just be the silliest warrior to show up. D.Violet though has an unrequited crush on him. I’m tickled to fathom they maybe get married, but Beo isn’t one for really being tied down as he is now.

I’m biased to saying he marries me, but hey, that’s not what this post is about: Relationship wise, Beo is fine with no ring, but he’s not much for the ball and chain. He likes to build things up slow and steady, and extremely affectionate due to not receiving that love as much before.

Despite his exterior, his chest hair is like, soft af. Arm hair though isn’t easy and lemme tell you, dude is hairy everywhere. So, he makes it a point to not care and just trim the beard here and there. Also made a very bad commercial about hair loss and body hair despite the fact he doesn’t have those issues.

His hair is super curly so he just brushes it to the side. That’s it. That’s the goddamn cowlick hair cut we all love

Is the only one to know Annie’s true self, but pretends not to for the sake of being another “dumb mortal”. He implies he knows Annie isn’t the same Annie as “before”, but only to draw her ire. At the end of the story line, though, Annie and him grow closer enough that he admits his knowledge and Annie becomes his wingman and bro. 

And I mean bro as in, homegirl screens all would be dates / gf / bf and also manages to make time to meet at their favorite local diner. She hates the amount of hate he gets time to time for being “basic” but she herself is your run of the mill “anime magical girl”. Annie chalks it up to the fact no one cares about talent anymore, but Beowulf still believes Annie has some talent left in her, despite her not seeing it. It’s one of those key reasons she’s very big on his wellbeing: He trusts and believes in her when not many people do. They just believe in the girl of the stars, not Annie.

Annie likes to WHUMP her face on him when embarrassed, and many a time people have walked into his chest or abs because he’s 6′7″ HE’S A FUCKING GIANT. He doesn’t mind it, in fact, he’s flattered by it on the inside ‘cuz he’s a smug Wulf.

Annie, after about 2 weeks being his best friend, cracks many raunchy jokes with him, though, he also brags about certain things he knows she probably won’t experience to her dismay. “Man, Annie, I would have really taken you out to the bar, but oh, I forgot, they don’t serve children!” “Wulf, you’re lucky a 12 year old can’t stab a middle aged man.” “Excuse me princess, would you like another helping of Dinosaur nuggets and fries?”

Tired Wulf Boi Curls Up and Sleps

Cried because he saw those ASPCA commercials

Would fuck a werewolf. Would fuck a monster for the ride of his life. Would also have the gas running and the car ready in case you need the body hid. He’s a ride or die sort of dude, he makes it known when you wake him up too early without context.

“Oh, gosh, golly, gee” is something he copies from Annie time to time

Struggles also, not to curse around her. Dick-tionary, Ass-ets, Douche-Nozzler the gobbledygook. All Annie™ words.

Broke a laptop just by touching it, can now hold a toaster in his hands.

Would not get the reality of wearing a collar. “Wow, you must have a nice do–”

Is still waking up each morning ready to find and craft his purpose in life. He’s used to it not knowing, but he’s clearing his head so far

[nouveau-riche-princess]

in balmung shoutchat i had this argument with this guy the other day over whether or not otters would be considered twinks and i told him ostensibly otters are just twinks with more of a focus on hair and muscle, whereas twinks often are soft less hairy. and he told me, there's no way a twink can ever be hairy and i was like yes dude, that is why we are talking about this because it's a different classification and i'm only drawing the conclusion based on other factors to make the distinction easier to understand. anyway, that's what balmung is like.

[jackson38toh]

Why foxes have fur, horses hair

Q: Why do we say some animals have “hair” while others have “fur”?

A: All mammals have hair—dogs, cats, foxes, pigs, gerbils, horses, and people. Even dolphins have a few whiskers early in their lives. Scientifically speaking, there’s no difference between hair and fur.

“This is all the same material,” Dr. Nancy Simmons, a mammalogist with the American Museum of Natural History, said in a 2001 interview with Scientific American. “Hair and fur are the same thing.”

She added that there are many norms for hair length, and that different kinds of hair can have different names, such as a cat’s whiskers and a porcupine’s quills.

Well, science is one thing but common English usage is another. Most of us do have different ideas about what to call “hair” and what to call “fur.”

For example, we regard humans as having “hair,” not “fur.” And we use “hair” for what grows on livestock with thick, leathery hides—horses, cattle, and pigs.

But we generally use “fur” for the thick, dense covering on animals like cats, dogs, rabbits, foxes, bears, raccoons, beavers, and so on.

Why do some animals have fur and others hair? The answer lies in the origins of the noun “fur,” which began life as an item of apparel.

In medieval England, “fur” meant “a trimming or lining for a garment, made of the dressed coat of certain animals,” according to the Oxford English Dictionary.

The source, the dictionary suggests, is the Old French verb forrer, which originally meant to sheathe or encase, then “developed the sense ‘to line,’ and ‘to line or trim with fur.’ ”

When the word “fur” first entered English, it was a verb that meant to line, trim, or cover a garment with animal hair. The earliest OED use is from Kyng Alisaunder, a Middle English romance about Alexander the Great, composed in the late 1200s or early 1300s:

“The kyng dude of [put on] his robe, furred with meneuere.” (The last word is “miniver,” the white winter pelt of a certain squirrel.)

The noun followed. Its first known use is from The Romaunt of the Rose, an English translation (from 1366 or earlier) of an Old French poem. The relevant passage refers to a coat “Furred with no menivere, But with a furre rough of here [hair].”

The noun’s meaning gradually evolved over the 14th and 15th centuries. From the sense of a lining or trimming, “fur” came to mean the material used to make it. Soon it also meant entire garments made of this material, as well as the coats of the animals themselves.

Oxford defines that last sense of “fur” this way: “The short, fine, soft hair of certain animals (as the sable, ermine, beaver, otter, bear, etc.) growing thick upon the skin, and distinguished from the ordinary hair, which is longer and coarser. Formerly also, the wool of sheep” [now obsolete].

Note that this definition establishes the distinction between the special hair we call “fur” (short, fine, soft), and “ordinary hair” (longer, coarser).

The dictionary’s earliest citation is a reference to sheep as bearing “furres blake and whyte” (circa 1430). The first non-sheep example was recorded in the following century, a reference to the “furre” of wolves (Edmund Spenser, The Shepheardes Calender, 1579).

From the 17th century on, examples are plentiful. Shakespeare writes of “This night wherin … The Lyon, and the belly-pinched Wolfe Keepe their furre dry” (King Lear, 1608). And Alexander Pope writes of “the strength of Bulls, the Fur of Bears” (An Essay on Man, 1733).

But a mid-18th-century example in the OED stands out—at least for our purposes—because it underscores that “fur” was valued because it was soft and warm: “Leave the Hair on Skins, where the Fleece or Fir is soft and warm, as Beaver, Otter, &c.” (From An Account of a Voyage for the Discovery of a North-west Passage, 1748, written by the ship’s clerk.)

Elsewhere in the account, the author notes that deer or caribou skins were “cleared of the Hair” to make use of the skin as leather.

As for “hair,” it’s a much older word than “fur” and came into English from Germanic sources instead of French.

Here’s the OED definition: “One of the numerous fine and generally cylindrical filaments that grow from the skin or integument of animals, esp. of most mammals, of which they form the characteristic coat.”

The word was spelled in Old English as her or hær, Oxford says, and was first recorded before the year 800 in a Latin-Old English glossary: “Pilus, her.” (In Latin pilus is a single hair and pili is the plural.)

By around the year 1000, “hair” was also used as a mass or collective noun, defined in the OED as “the aggregate of hairs growing on the skin of an animal: spec. that growing naturally upon the human head.”

In summary, most of us think of “fur” as soft, cuddly, warm, and dense. We don’t regard “hair” in quite the same way (even though it technically includes “fur”). “Hair,” in other words, covers a lot more bases.

But in practice, English speakers use the words “hair” and “fur” inconsistently. People often regard some animals, especially their pets, as having both “fur” and “hair.”

They may refer to Bowser’s coat as “fur,” but use the word “hair” for what he leaves on clothes and furniture. And when he gets tangles, they may say that either his “hair” or his “fur” is matted and needs combing out.

Furthermore (no pun intended), two different people might describe the same cat or dog differently—as having “hair” or “fur,” as being “hairy” or “furry,” and (particularly in the case of the cat) as throwing up a “hairball” or a “furball.” They simply perceive the animal’s coat differently.

Our guess is that people base their choice of words on what they perceive as the thickness, density, or length of a pet’s coat. The heavy, dense coat of a Chow dog or a Persian cat is likely to be called “fur.” And the short, light coat of a sleek greyhound or a Cornish Rex is likely to be called “hair.”

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from Blog – Grammarphobia https://www.grammarphobia.com/blog/2019/04/fur-hair.html