#a hairy business

[therealvinelle]

I know i am SUPER late to the party but I just stumbled across (and finished 😭) your fic "A Hairy Business".

The deer, that everyone wants to treat as a human but also accidentally like an animal. The fact that he is just a deer after all and does deer-things but everyone tries so hard to read these actions as human no matter what. The pooping in cauldrons being seen as this amazing prank against Snape (and now im worried how the twins tried to out-prank Hairy. What did they poop in?!?) The deer being named "Hairy" instead of Harry (good one, James and Sirius, very mature. Also A+ parenting from James. Poor Lily, I'm sure she tried her best). And Lord Grass-emort XD Honestly, the diary won. Sure he's a soul piece stuck in a diary but at least he's not.... like that.

And who could forget the Hairy Express. The mental image is both very cute and hilarious. No wonder the diary is losing its mind. The deer is too powerful and it's just a deer. It doesn't know what's going on ever.

Honestly it'd be so funny if neither Hairy nor Lily had anything to do with Tom blowing up. Hairy did something deer-y, Tom tripped over him and poked himself with his wand so badly that he just went poof. Hairy got spooked and ran forhead-first into something, getting him the scar.

Who knew that "the power he knows not" would be being a no thoughts head empty deer?

Thank you, you beautiful person, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. It remains my best work.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

○○○○● What if Harry Potter was a squib? ●○○○○

-What would the wizard world think of "the boy who lived" not being a wizard at all? Would they even believe that he is a squib?

-What would Harry's life will be? (Better or worse than canon?) What would Harry think of himself? What about the Dursleys? ( I.e would they hate him any less?)

-How would Dumbledore try to make this fit into his plan?

-Would Dumbledore try to convince everyone that Harry is in fact a wizard and registered him in Hogwarts? How would Harry's school life be like? Would he have friends? How would he do his homework?

-What about Voldemort and the death eaters?(The Dark Lord was defeated by a muggle baby! How shameful!)

Effectively, this is A Hairy Business by @therealvinelle

That Squib is going to Hogwarts and they're all going to pretend he's not a Squib.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dog Meshi.

[nipuni]

Ten and Missy! Our Halloween costumes 🥰

[lazylittledragon]

ik this wasn't the focus of the comic but I love how you also gave Cyra leg hair?? IDK, that's just so normal and real and I love it

it's to keep her warm!!!

[therealvinelle]

https://www.instagram.com/p/C13wNE1gRiY/?igsh=MTl4OTRlMmtta2U2Zw==

^ Hermione and Ginny in your Harry Potter is a deer AU fanfic

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A post shared by Hiroko Yamamura (@hiroko__yamamura)

Pffffffffft.

[pinchan]

give him ur credit card information

mesh shirt inspired by this art

[instantsweetsnacho]

The summer body 😇💦

[deeplord]

Makes way more sense for qunari to have normalized afab beards but y’all are too busy parroting tolkien and HP antisemitism to see it. Leave the dwarf race that lives underground over fucking lava alone.

[valeriianz]

I really liked your facial hair! Dream, if u wanted, could there be a part 2?

part 1!

While Hob was in a losing battle when it came to Dream’s facial hair, the Nightmare King-turned-human didn’t appear to have any qualms over the accumulated hair… elsewhere, on his person.

Not to say that Dream was completely hairless, before. He always had a thatch of hair on his pelvis, perhaps understanding that’s what Hob preferred? Or maybe Dream liked it? Hob never questioned it. But that would explain why Dream appeared so nonchalant about the additional hair currently growing on his body.

For starters, Dream seemed to enjoy the leg hair, curling up with Hob in bed and tangling their limbs, wrapping his ankle around Hob’s and sliding their bodies together, enjoying the friction.

The chest hair had been fun– Hob combing his fingers in wiry black strands in blind fascination– he’d never seen anything but smooth, pore-free skin on Dream before and didn’t know what to do with it. (He’d broken out of that trance real fast to nuzzle into it like a cat before fucking Dream and then coming all over his newly furred chest).

It was the stripe of hair, below Dream’s belly button, that was currently giving Hob pause.

Hob sat at his kitchen island, sipping on his morning coffee, and listening to Dream speak. 

Or, trying to. 

Dream wore a black tank top and a stolen pair of Hob’s flannel pajama bottoms, which were fighting for their life to stay on Dream’s narrow hips. Slunk low and exposing Dream’s Adonis belt and sharp hip bones that Hob loved tracing with his fingers and teeth.

Dream was saying something about the show they were seeing tonight as he stretched up on tiptoes to reach a box of cereal on the top shelf. Hob’s eyes traveled up from Dream’s gloriously firm abdomen to the tension in his bicep, resting his gaze on the flash of jet black armpit hair. Hob remembers how he’d been stunned silent, as always, by the underarm hair. Perhaps it was the transformation of Dream’s physical form, however minuscule, that got Hob all riled up. Hob was a strange person in that, he liked change. Reveled in it. If everything had stayed the same forever, he’s not sure he’d enjoy his immortal life. But that’s what made humanity so fun and fascinating… things were constantly changing.

And now Dream was, too.

Hob’s gaze shamelessly followed Dream as he moved, setting the box down on the counter and reaching up now for a bowl. Hob felt heat simmering in his belly as he took in his fill, the familiar coil of arousal beginning. He knew how Dream’s skin would taste; salty from sweat, but alkaline somehow, like seawater. It’s sweet too, cloyingly, like Dream was a delicacy to be sipped and nibbled upon, savored slowly and mulled over.

“Hob? Did you hear me?”

Hob hums distractedly as he blinks up at Dream from under his lashes.

The blue of Dream’s eyes seem to sparkle as he takes in Hob, gaze falling to the mug of coffee Hob still has his hand around, stuck to the countertop.

After a moment where Hob forgets that Dream asked him a question, he speaks up again, a knowing smile pulling up the corner of his lips.

“What are you so preoccupied with?”

“You,” Hob spoke at once, honestly. “I know I’ve said this before but humanity really does become you.”

Dream looked down at the bowl cupped in his hands and huffed quietly.

“How so?”

“Do you want me to tell you?” Hob managed to remember he had legs and hopped out of his chair, stepping around the island and into Dream’s personal space, grinning at the surprised, pleasant gasp that he made. He took the bowl out of Dream’s hands and set it on the counter. 

“Or, I could show you.” Hob finished, settling his hands on Dream’s waist, swiping his thumbs up and under the tank top, pulling him forward slightly.

“Mm…” Dream hummed, his eyes lowering in consideration. His own hands came up and set them on Hob’s– unfortunately– clothed chest, fingers twitching like he was making his mind up about something.

“Perhaps after breakfast.”

Hob swallowed a groan, pressing their foreheads together. He took another step forward, selfishly bringing attention to the semi in his pants and delighting in the sharp intake of breath from Dream.

“You love making me wait,” Hob grumbled, feeling a little pathetic but enjoying it nonetheless; how Dream seemed to preen under Hob’s impatience.

“I need sustenance, Hob.” Dream slipped his hands slowly up Hob’s shoulders and around, tangling his fingers lightly in his hair. He leaned in, lips brushing Hob’s ear as he spoke again, his low voice coupled with the words spoken making Hob’s spine vibrate. 

“My body is ravenous after the events of last night.”

“Christ, Dream–” Hob’s hips jerked forward of their own accord, viciously trying to hold himself back from crushing Dream against the counter and kissing him stupid. “You really do test my patience.”

Dream pulled back and smiled, sly, like a cat, before tilting his head and speaking again, tone light.

“I’m also quite sore.”

Something dark and possessive creeps up Hob’s spine at the words, spoken so casually with an air of pleasure. Because Hob knew Dream enjoyed it, liked the evidence of their love-making, being able to feel it the next day. He’d said so early on, when he was still Endless… that he would make it so Hob’s presence, his touch, would last, until Dream had Hob again. 

“I’ll go nice and slow then,” Hob murmured, sliding his hands around to Dream’s front and feeling that trail of hair below his belly button, following it up his sternum and combing his fingers through chest hair. 

Dream purred under the attention, lolling his head back and arching toward Hob’s touch.

“I’ll be so gentle…” Hob mouthed along Dream’s throat, peppering kisses along the line of his jaw– the stubble there scratching Hob’s chin and making him smirk, wondering when indeed Dream would allow the hair there to grow fully.

“I’ll open you up and take my time. I’ll be so careful…” Hob nipped Dream’s earlobe and felt the other man shudder, his very human heart thrumming under his skin. “You’ll be begging for it.”

That seemed to bring Dream back. Hob felt him swallow and chuckle lightly.

“Beg…” Dream said the word with a sour expression, getting his hands back on Hob’s chest and pushing gently, enough for Hob to lean back, but not enough to take his hands out from under Dream’s shirt. “You’re the one who can’t stop looking at me.”

Hob smiled so wide his teeth showed. He loved getting caught.

“You know, if you’re hungry–”

“Don’t say it–”

“-- I got something you could eat,” Hob finished anyway, laughing at the way Dream rolled his eyes, hard enough to take his head with it.

After a moment, Dream took Hob’s wrists and pulled his hands down, tangling their fingers together. 

“Will it pacify you for 10 minutes so I can resume breaking my fast?”

Hob hummed in mock consideration, biting down the all too satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“Perhaps.”

“Ah…” Dream grinned, and there was a sharp edge to it.

“Perhaps then,” he continued, turning away from Hob and back to his mission that was cereal. “... you can wait.”

Hob lowered his head to the nape of Dream’s neck in defeat, laughing.

“Tease,” he said without venom, nuzzling his nose briefly in the smattering of wiry hairs there as well.

“You love it.”

Hob hummed, winding his arms around Dream’s waist and nudged his crotch comfortably into his ass, smirking in victory as Dream accepted it, pushing back to meet him.

Hob exhaled a content sigh into Dream’s hair, lazily rolling his hips while Dream fixed his breakfast, pouring cereal into the bowl and following it up with milk.

“I do.” Hob conceded, watching and waiting until Dream ate the last bite of cereal before grabbing his arm and pulling him back into bed.

[erovalkyrie]

TACTICAL TAKEDOWN!

(art raffle win for 100 followers on Twitter, request by Seri_xxxi!

and being overpowered by a man quite shorter than him, Jean Vicquemare was never the same

[hairychestloversblog]

Chill and bath time with a glass of red 🍷 🛁

Then down to business 🤗🤗

[mediapen]

when carlos shakes in an ice bath i instantaneously experience like the full spectrum of human emotion at 99999x normal intensity

[raccoonspooky]

Bo sinclair has tried to wax his chest before right like theres no way in hell this man with all his vanity has not attempted to wax himself. Anyways I want to imagine him with one strip of chest where it’s obvious he attempted waxing himself. Imagine ur playing housewife for ur murder boo and u slide ur hand down his chest bein all domestic and shit and then theres one patch of skin that’s like sticky and devoid of hair and ur just not allowed to laugh about it or even ask about it because he’ll throw a man tantrum

[cosmogyros]

It is fucking amazing how often I have to unfollow people for bodyshaming others related to their choice to shave or not. And the fascinating thing is that this judginess is ALWAYS aimed at women. Men who don't shave? Fine. Men who do shave? Also fine. It's their body, they can do what they like with it, right?

But as soon as we're talking about women, suddenly it's totally okay to prescribe what they ought to do about their OWN bodies. I never used to see this many "women shouldn't shave" posts here, and the recent uptick is concerning to me.

I understand that it's rooted in a pushback against patriarchal norms that pressure all women to remove their body hair. And I fully support that. But you've gotta understand that if you react to these norms by saying "women should all shave? actually no, women should NOT shave!" ...YOU'RE STILL BEING SEXIST. You're still saying that women "should" do something different with their bodies because YOU think they ought to.

It's absolutely wild to me how often internalized misogyny can be revealed by simply asking oneself "If the genders were switched, would I be saying this (in any context except as a joke)?" And if the answer is no, then... maybe don't say it.

Freedom is always more revolutionary. Letting people make their own choices is always more revolutionary. If you react to someone's attempt to enforce a certain standard by attempting to enforce the opposite standard instead, you are not on the side of freedom.

[robotpanties]

old fiorejones drawings i used to be so mentally ill abt them