#been struggling with my fursona head's base But I think. I want to just finish the mousekat head I started/abandoned a few years ago

[satanfemme]

does anyone have any guides they recommend on how to measure/cut/sew the fur for a fursuit head (foam base)? please :3c

[amorphousfurrysnakething]

So I have a fursona now

Despite being an incorrigible furry for over a decade now, I’ve never actually managed to get a stable-ish fursona sorted out ‘cause I’m indecisive (and didn’t realise how my fluidity was interacting with that). But now I have and want to froth, so:

Name:Ráðsviðr Náttfari ("Rath") Species: Garden Tiger Moth (https://www.ukmoths.org.uk/species/arctia-caja/) NB Masculine, he/him, pan (masc preference) Appearance: A moth, he has eight limbs (four arms, two legs, two-ish wings) and is covered in a soft fuzz of fur. Lean build, but looks bulkier due to fuzziness. Red body, brown and red spotted wings. His wings have arcane text written across them and close inspection reveals that they're made up of lots of very thin pages. Job: Thaumozoologist (Lives in a pseudomodern fantasy setting)

Powers: Scrivened Wings: Has dozens of very thin wings, which when at rest or when being used as wings look like a pair of normal moth wings in shape. These wings are covered in text copied from books, to absorb text, he must read the original. The character can read any of the text on their own wings by concentrating on them, and others can read them like a book. Although he can fly with his wings, it's fairly undignified fluttering and he doesn't like going too high. Wizard: A dabbler in the arcane, he favours spells of healing and others that interact with animals and living phenomena, as well as general utility spells.

Because I can't draw and don't have the funds right now to commission a ref sheet off someone, I instead wrote some horny which I'm going to put behind a cut.

(NSFW, Contains fingering, pet play, teasing and denial, casual nudity, bondage and an unreasonably buff lion)

  There's a knock at my door, and I start. I'm not expecting anyone, and I'm currently sprawled, topless, on my sofa. I cast about for a jumper, my society might not have a problem with casual nudity, but I have enough body image issues to do so. I don't manage to turn one up before the knock comes again, and its insistence calls me over to the door on instinct. I mutter a quick spell, opening a window through the thick wood, and smile as I pull the door open.

"Hiya, Marcus."

The lion grins down at me. I'm not short, but Marcus is massive. He's a head taller than me, and in contrast to my skinny build, he's broad too, and exudes easy confidence that I'm both jealous of and so very gay for.

“Hey, Rath, need to pick your brains.”

“Sure, come in.”

I try not to blush as my sometimes-boyfriend strides into the room, and it's made harder when his tail gently brushes against my stomach. He's been running, and isn't wearing much more than a pair of shorts that show off his legs as he brushes the mud off his paws. He's probably flirting with me, again.

“Can I grab a drink?”

“There should be a clean glass by the sink. What do you need?”

He tosses me another grin. “Looking for information on thaumic mutation in plants. There's a nest of something nasty up by Silver Beck and it needs clearing before some hiker stumbles into it.” he calls over his shoulder as he heads for my kitchen.

While he's busy filling a glass, I start looking for the books I'll need. My library might not be huge, but I've thus far failed to maintain anything beyond the most rudimentary organisation, and by the time Marcus comes back in I'm fluttering near the ceiling, glaring at a row of computing manuals that should be arcanobotany references. Or at least, could be, after the first three locations were, in order: empty, the 4th edition of Thaumaturgic Encylopedia, and the complete Judge Dredd collection.

“Any luck?”

“Nope.”

I descend quickly, trying to salvage some dignity by getting my feet back under me. It's...not entirely successful; moths are not known for being elegant fliers. While I'm distracted, Marcus slips behind me.

“I'm sure there's something on these wings of yours.” the husky whisper in my ears coincides with a firm rub between my shoulderblades, the leonine pads sending jittery tingles through my body. My wings flicker, the arcane text flowing across them dancing in my brain. “You remember the safeword?”

“Banana.” I'm not trying to whisper, but my breath has left me.

“Good boy.” he purrs. I can feel his arms wrapping around me, and at the corner of my eye I see the contrast of his golden fur against my red fuzz. “Now, then. Do you have what I need?” The magical text scrawled across the layers of my wings dances behind my eyes, and I nod.

“Very good boy.”

He gently guides me to my bedroom, and I have no desire to stop him, simply enjoying the feel of his muscle and fur against my body, and the hard warmth where his groin rubs against my back; the absence when he lets go is almost painful. He pulls my box of toys out from under the bed, his bent posture putting his tail and arse on full display in front of me.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You're hot too, you know.”

This time I do blush, and though it's barely visible through my natural colouring, Marcus' smirk tells me he sees it. The smile turns a little ironic, as he stands back up, and my vision goes dark as he wraps a blindfold across my eyes.

“Good lad, now get yourself naked while I get my reading table set up.”

I hesitate, but a squeeze to my arse that is both reassuring and warning suppresses my reservations, and as I hear him moving around I quickly strip off my clothing. Once I'm done, I suppress the urge to cover myself again, and my unpleasant brainworms are silenced by an appreciative noise from Marcus.

I know he's done when his lips meet mine, pulling me into a passionate kiss while his paws explore my body, as they've done so many times but never seem to tire of. He draws me close, his clear arousal heightening my own.

After a few minutes, he pulls away and a needy whine escapes me.

“I know, lad, but I do need that info.” His own lust is clear.

I'm guided over to the bed, and gently pushed onto it. With a firm hand, he straps me facedown and spread-eagled, at his mercy. He settles himself over me, kneeling across my lower back, the light pressure of his body delightful as he bends over, rubbing again at that spot between my shoulderblades. A brief, ecstatic spasm leaves me limp, and I can feel the leaves of my wings begin to separate out, becoming the pages of the book they are.

“Very good. Now, you know what I need.”

The text on my wings, scrawled across the eigengrau filling my eyes, runs rapidly through my brain, and the thin pages of my wings flip and blur. A cool wind brushes across my antennae until I find what is needed.

Marcus gives a pleased pet to my head, and leans back against my abdomen, and for a few minutes I am nothing. A pleasant calm of the cool and warm and dark, with a background scratch of Marcus' pen as he takes notes. Occasionally, the peace is punctuated by the soft pleasure and pressure as he turns a page.

“There we are.” He scritches the base of my antennae, and I purr without meaning to.  “You're adorable. Now, I think I'm going to order us some dinner, if that's OK with you?”

“Yesss.” I'm so relaxed that I don't manage much more than a soft hiss, but Marcus knows me well.

“Well, sit tight.”

I can feel the weight shift as he gets up and leaves me alone. I know it won't be long before he comes back, but I wriggle impatiently anyway.

“Patience, lad”

Marcus punctuates his return by running his paw across my crotch, which only causes me to struggle more, whining with need.

“We've a few minutes before it arrives, so...”

He lays his erection against my arse, and I push back as far as my binds will let me, hungry for more, but Marcus knows me well, and he leaves me desperate as he takes his pleasure, rubbing his body against mine with only the briefest, but expertly chosen, touches to  my most sensitive areas. His early growls turn to ragged pants as his orgasm approaches, and I grind my body against him, trying to increase his pleasure in hopes of reward, as well as an instinctive act to attenuate the sensations he's so skilfully denying me.

“Pleasse...”

“Good pets don't talk.”

His admonishment is gentle, but unyielding, though quickly unnecessary as words are lost in a pleading whimper.

“Good...good...” the intended compliment is abandoned as his climax comes, and he roars in delight, splattering his cum across my back and wings. It's a long minute before he's able to catch his breath again. “Good boy.”

I moan plaintively, feeling my own unfulfilled arousal drip out across my bed, but he just gently pats my arse and gets up, going into the bathroom to clean himself up and leaving me to stew in the frustration in a most delightful way.

He's barely done when the doorbell goes, and his brief negotiation with the deliverer ends in curry smell awakening an entirely different hunger in me. I hear him plate up the food, and he unbuckles my restraints, though he doesn't let me free, quickly binding my arms and legs doubled over, denying me my hands and forcing me to crawl to the bowl of curry he's left on the floor. Leaving me to sort myself out, he sits in a chair with his own dinner, smirking at my fumbling.

By the time I've managed to empty my bowl, he's long finished, enjoying an eyeful of my raised rear. As I rock back, licking the last of the sauce from my lips, he gets up, stalking towards me and pushing a finger into my still-wet pussy.

“You're really desperate, aren't you.”

Remembering the earlier command, I don't respond verbally, trying to fill my voice with as much desperation as I can as I whine in acknowledgement. Marcus chuckles as he adds more fingers, one by one. He knows his business, and I'm soon panting as his movements send waves of pleasure through my body. After a moment of particularly masterful attention to my clit, he bends low against me and whispers.

“Do you want to cum?”

I nod again, and with a his long experience, he quickly brings me to a shuddering, screaming orgasm, the waves of pleasure turning into a tsunami that crashes over me.

As I lie there, recovering, he strips off the bondage gear, murmuring gentle praise that ends with us both curled up in my bed.

[anunconnectedmarketeer]

Leo Greatfang

He came to laugh at you.

I’m really nostalgic for MMOs. To the point where I never want to touch one ever again, for the experience will cause the romanticized nostalgia to evaporate. Before the announcement of Warcraft classic I wanted to make a MMO isekai with a Leeroy Jenkins Expy and an undead frost chicken, and while that has not changed, looking at the Warcraft Classic community min-maxing the game minimizes the magic. One cannot capture the sense of discovery of the old days, so even though nothing has changed, the way one experiences it sure does. I still have an old printout subsection of my dad’s old - paid - leveling guide, something no one needs in the Modern Classic.

In a similar vein, I love gunpla - at least pretending that I know what I’m doing with it. I dyed a white kit koolaid red because I wanted to be lazy and experimental with panel lining. And while I want to project that idealism onto a fake Gundam Build Fighters character... I can’t get hype with that character going to an arena and likely having to face - and lose to - children. If it’s a video game where I can’t see their face? Sure, I’ll take some lunch money. Even though Gundam Build Divers is admittedly the lesser of the two series, and basically junk food anime, let’s make (another) virtual representation of the sel-

Damn, I’m 2-for-2 on fursonas on this blog.

Leo Greatfang is a player of Gundam Battle Nexus Online. His avatar is a white maned lion with a jacket and sunglasses. He pilots grunt suits and is at his best with generic weapons like beam sabers.

These are the fundamentals. I’ve basically been writing stories in my head while daydreaming, and honestly due to this, this character with no planned story thus became a bit bloated. In my latest daydream I split off his love of character based suits, conflated it with my love of Gundam’s female pilots, and made a separate character - whose arc might be that they transitioned, a minority in their old force caused a stir about it, that minority was ostracized, then that minority spread rumors that made them out to be a “playboy” that split the force, putting the onus of fracturing the force on that individual player instead of themselves - but I don’t think I’m quite qualified to write that. And I’d probably want to pretend guild toxicity didn’t happen in my romanticized fake reality.

Also, this a toy commercial OC I use to daydream during working hours.

So, who is he when I refine his character? Well, he takes the Newtype (as weapon) mentality and turns it on its head - instead of reading emotions he plays in a fashion that inspires emotions in his opponents, making them excruciatingly easy to read and counter. Yep, he’s a that guy. Him being an American playing on Asia servers helps with this, as his ping is enormous. However, relatively speaking, he is mechanically unskilled, and doesn’t use much beyond the basics. This means opponents he can bait are too easily bested, while opponents he can’t bait basically curbstomp him. His main desire in Gundam Battling is to convey emotions that transcends a language barrier through long and drawn out beam saber clashes. 

His Custom Mobile Suit is the Tallg00se. It’s still in the classic white, but both the Dober Gun and Shield have regional designations, as if to taunt those who miss solely due to lag, or to drive the point home when shrugging off being called out for being annoying due to a language barrier. It’s also a misnomer, while the twin hyper verniers were replaced with two GN drives, the chassis hosts a third reactor. While only two - at most - drives are active at a time, the GN drives that replaced the verniers can detach and act as hunter/killer support units. “To avoid copyright claims, I’m just going to call these things America Drones!” Basically stealing Red Alert 2′s terror drone design, making it fly, and disguising self depreciating political commentary as copyright avoidance. 

Unlike funnels, which normally attack from blind spots, Leo’s strategy is to let one of the support units fly directly at a mobile suit’s camera, and then follow up on the ensuing panic. These little buggers are made to penetrate a mobile suits hull and tear internal components to shreds - including the pilot. He’s also fond of leaking the fact that, like in Red Alert 2, an easy way to destroy them is to destroy the mech they’re tearing apart with conventional weapons - friendly fire included. 

In-universe, he shrugs off most criticism of going too far under the claim of satire by pointing to the in-universe cape wearing superhero that drops Axis as a “joke attack.” For me, myself, I’m not 100% sure I’m okay with this, aha.

The only other weapon was fashioned from an old screw to replace a missing hand - Leo’s name sake. It’s kept strapped to the back as a good luck charm on every gunpla sans Leo’s first, and when equipped is a unweildy melee weapon that replaces a hand and screws up the weight distribution, even though a beam saber is usually all you need. But, since it’s still a full metal part, its power is unmatched. And, utilizing the unbalanced nature of the mobile suit, maneuverability can be enchanced by “throwing one’s weight around.” And since people are used to the hum of beam sabers, and not the chaos of a mech sized drill, it can lead to people dropping the ball where it really counts. I also like big melee weapons.

To replace the phenomenon of Quantization, the Tallg00se uses a ZERO system supported Chrono-stutter. While active, the outcome of any action - normally judged impartially by the server - is weighted in Leo’s favor. If you’ve ever played Team Fortress 2, you likely know of ‘missing’ headshots while blood splatter is clearly shown, or have been backstabbed while the culprit is clearly in your field of view. A fun result in differences between what you see and what the server sees. However, the strategy used by the system that determines outcomes is also biased by Leo’s favor. While he claims - even to himself - that Chrono-stutter is used to minimize the amount of ‘battles with no worth due to ping differences,’ the system works simply by choosing the outcome that prolongs the battle, meaning neither party can land a decisive blow, and struggles between the two will go back and forth instead of either being able to fully press the advantage. 

I’ve also thought up things I have terrible names for - “Timeline Divergence/Convergence,” where instead of Quantization the mech would split into ZERO system controlled bodies of GN particles, fighting as individual variations with styles based on Leo’s old battle data, but eventually converging back, as Leo only ever finishes a fight with a melee thrust - call it drama or a tell. There’s also the “rhythm emotion” system, that would force Leo and his target to compete while adhering to rhythm game rules...

Which has led me to the worst part of this OC, introspection. Despite putting up this wall of text, I haven’t been able to completely convey all of my day dreams, esoteric as they may be. But this is the part that fucking sucls. These systems, his playstyles, all focus on giving everything he’s got so he can have a “fair battle between two evenly matched pilots,” but with Chrono-stutter and Rhythm Emotion most especially, he’s forcing it upon others. Like Zech’s ideals regarding war, or Graham forcing his distorted ego upon others, he tends to force his hypocritical fairness upon others. And when it comes to the online games I both romanticize and play... so do I. 

On a lighter fucking note, I’m now realizing that my 3 of my latest TRPG characters have been controller styled characters - the last of which playing one of 2 explicit Controllers in LANCER.

Haha, I have a type.