Drainpipe Domino☄️

>takes hrt
>why is literally everyone so frickin hot
>why do people think we're hot too
>fdhdggjgh
>takes hrt

okay i think i'm allowed to post here again

holy shit, what a trip

ooouuuuh friday is e-day too

y'all are so cute together

both can be good

I was expecting a "wdym turning?" joke from you, but i suppose you know as well as i do there are plenty of lockers to shove you into

well, sandwiches usually get eaten

yeah, it's. not even desperation, just...we're ready to go for things, and it's -working-

problem is that everyone else is catching on, and every ounce of agency is getting pulled away in a v v good way. I don't need to steer the conversation anymore. I can just, let it happen. and that works, too

I'll be parked between your tummy and tail, so more like a taco

then it'll be more of a hot pocket situation i reckon .//.

not a single word out of you wise guys

hahahahahah fuck, I'm turning into a massive sub

sometimes love just finds you

jfc some of those claws went deep

look i'm tired too, tired and frustrated and overwhelmed. maybe it's foolish to pretend that smiling through it and living even harder out of sheer spite is enough, but at least i'm living. and that's something that i've taken for granted, once. never again.

"this is how i fight"

>okay yeah, maybe some control is still good. just a little bit. quiet, unassuming rules, simple tasks with concrete rewards, promises kept in spirit, if not in letter. that's just how things are going to be, matter-of-fact and to-the-point. no sense in debate when their head is empty, mouth is full

everyone has a diff experience and tastes change over time and all, but it's sorta amusing to look back and be like yeah okay the stuff i got up to makes a lot of sense. it's a lot clearer what i actually want now that i'm slowly working towards a body that i'm comfortable being in and sharing

weird like, in my 20s i was mostly a power bottom with the occasional toppy streak, but still almost entirely dom. lots of cowgirl, many times holding the (actual) leash

and now with the girljuice it's...pretty much still that, but the facade is so paper thin. i don't...crave that control as much

more than once in my life I've been called a workaholic, and I can't really fathom a different word for it. it's a compulsion, to see a problem and want to be part of the solution.

the problem is that there are too many problems

ever since the start, it really has been every full moon, hasn't it? just...ravenous, aggressive, borderline unquenchable. hazardous.

lycanthronol is a pretty apt term for it

need to quit talking myself out of having fun on the off chance that it isn't perfect or that I don't know exactly what to expect. it's a dumb habit born out of years of dysphoria and trauma, and it takes more than a few doses of titty sprinkles to unlearn that little maladaption

getting somewhere

been completely unquenchable lately. hard to tell if it's a new cycle or just, how things are now. every touch is like lightning, every sight and scent is enthralling. can't focus on anything else, the engine won't stop turning, like this frame is going to break at the seams

as it should, really

some noodles taste better stuffed,

yeah sable, keep yapping on main about breaking your toys like you're not clamoring to get press-ganged into being someone's sleeve

the next couple months are going to be a stressful scramble, and i'm already struggling to, like, keep in touch with everyone that seemingly wants my company, but with every passing day it gets easier. thank you for your patience, and if I ever, like, go radio silent, just know it's been THAT busy.

hmm hmm hmm. slooowly approaching the point where my tits come out further than my gut. that threshold has been a personal goal; to see it this close to fruition within a year of start HRT is...exciting. empowering, even.

we still have a LOT of work to do, and we're just getting started, but. good.

the overload of stressful stuff happening over the holidays leading up to the first con in a decade serves as a pointed reminder for why we made sable the way she is, what with the plasma tail and funny hair: she's a candle burning at both ends.

just breathe, darling. we've got this. we always do.

see, greil? she's a fennekin, not a fennecan't, you had nothing to worry about

softgirl sable...

weh /w\

honorary super pixel pal, send post

it's actually a little unfair just how much a reset button digits-in-mouth is these days

well no, the unfair part is that you fuckers graduated from flicking my tit to just shoving a pair in whenever I get too bitey. like. rrrf.