Lavender ΘΔ
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lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
Lavender ΘΔ
@lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
97 followers 180 following 86 posts
Border collie
It / she 🏳️‍⚧️
30
Also, a beginner with fursuit making and crafting :3
Ozark bred critter living in the Twin Cities
💜@sennafox.gay💜
Posts Replies Media Videos
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
Bluey gets her own seat on Amtrak 💜
December 6, 2025 at 2:48 PM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
Spotted a lovely payphone while waiting to board the Amtrak at Chicago's Union Station! @wolf.moda
December 6, 2025 at 2:45 PM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
Also I am really hurting bad right now, it sucks a ton. This shit fucking hurts and is uncomfortable. It really fucks your sinuses up bad

The pain comes in waves and there are definitely high and low moments. Yesterday I even went out and about in chicago.

I can barely even walk rn feel so bad
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social Lavender ΘΔ @lavenderpuppy.bsky.social · 6d
Now day 6 post facial feminization surgery. Feeling so much better 💜
I look like shit still though hahaha
November 30, 2025 at 5:19 PM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
lynn.cat
let him be cake
November 30, 2025 at 10:32 AM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
Now day 6 post facial feminization surgery. Feeling so much better 💜
I look like shit still though hahaha
November 30, 2025 at 4:54 PM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
0kame-san.bsky.social
My favorite recent comm!
Animating tail is so much fun😆
November 30, 2025 at 2:39 PM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
matuska.bsky.social
brother💕
November 29, 2025 at 12:01 AM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
I survived my facial feminization surgery! And god it fucking sucks. This shit is no joke
November 26, 2025 at 1:04 PM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
I require a full suit of medieval knight armor and a long sword for...lesbian reasons
November 24, 2025 at 10:10 PM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
Chicago i am in you
November 24, 2025 at 3:24 PM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
Facial Feminization Surgery is in 5 days. Looking in the mirror is even more awkward than usual right now knowing its about to be different. Dreading the recovery but grateful to finally be getting it done
November 21, 2025 at 4:48 AM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
rosiemenace.bsky.social
Just learned it’s gonna cost over $3000 to fix my teeth after how bad they got from not having anywhere safe to brush them while i lived in campus dorms. Any support or sharing of this would be really appreciated ❤️

gofund.me/4067c26fc
Donate to Support Rose Bug's Dental Recovery, organized by Rose Bug
My name is Rose Bug, and I’m an 18-year-old transfem girl. I spent a year in college study… Rose Bug needs your support for Support Rose Bug's Dental Recovery
gofund.me
November 14, 2025 at 10:04 PM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
Just had my facial feminization surgery pre-op appointment!!! Will be back in 2 weeks for the surgery itself 🥺💜
I can hardly believe it is finally happening. I am so grateful
November 7, 2025 at 9:13 PM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
basil-mage.bsky.social
Puppy pride
Drawing of a puppy holding the puppy pride flag with the caption; "puppy pride"
November 6, 2025 at 1:29 PM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
rabidfoxarts.bsky.social
COMMISSIONS OPEN

looking to fill 2 char sketch slots that im running a special at rn for $120 !

I have 2-3 slots available

interested? Dm or fill out this form! : forms.gle/VDXsfn4A8Gwc...

#furrynsfw #feralnsfw #furry
October 22, 2025 at 6:15 PM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
leafhoof.bsky.social
My new shirt design BAD BITCH is now available for preorder! Form will be open thru NOVEMBER 3 2025.

FORM: forms.gle/h7CmGhcnvUAC...
BAD BITCH shirt mockup black and white design of a feral girldog on pink background. Text: Bad Bitch No Muzzle
September 19, 2025 at 2:13 AM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
October 28, 2025 at 2:47 AM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
📷@yotemaw.bsky.social
October 25, 2025 at 6:52 PM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
Aww I never posted this pic from furry migration! Cool critters all around 💜~
October 15, 2025 at 3:25 PM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
⬅️ prey shaped
October 15, 2025 at 1:16 PM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
shimi.bsky.social
New zine: “Look Into My Eyes One Last Time”

A final love letter to the self I shed
A prayer for the creature. Becoming
A reckoning, a surrender. Homecoming

This is my deepest wish laid bare—needle, fur, breath, & mercy. Being held with a care I never found.

#AnimalHRT #Therianthropy #ShortStory
A hand-drawn black-and-white cover image in a sketchy ink style. At the top, large stenciled type reads: “LOOK INTO MY EYES ONE LAST TIME.” Below the title is a syringe and a small medicine vial labeled “LUPINEX – Therionyl – 5mL,” with a stylized eye logo on the label. The vial and syringe are crosshatched with vintage texture lines. Below the drawing, in handwritten script, is the phrase: “Homecoming, not vanishing” and the signature Shimi & Critter. [Art on Page] A detailed graphite drawing of a wolf’s eyes. One, the left is more formed than the right — indicating a near but not complete transition. The fur around them is dense and wispy, rendered in fine pencil lines that suggest softness and depth. The eyes are highly realistic and expressive, staring directly outward with intense, soulful focus. They seem alert but ancient—wide with instinct, watching as if waiting for something to begin. The drawing fades at the edges into blank white space, giving the eyes a floating, disembodied presence. Look into my eyes one last time Look into my eyes. Hold them close until you can see the last scrap of me — the part that counts thoughts in lists, that weighs choices against rules, that folds shame into tidy, human-shaped pockets. Watch it loosen. Watch the corners of doubt unhook themselves like small animals from a net and dart away. There is no melodrama here, no violent yanking; it slips. The human mind peels like old bark, and underneath, the thing that always was settles warm and terrible and simple. They give me the last injection in a room that smells faintly of cedar and lemon. No needles, no cold clinical lecture — only the careful hands of doctors, veterinarians and nurses who know which bones to cradle and which stories to leave untold. I breathe. I lost the ability to count days back. I let the bracing liquid be a gate, not an instruction manual. I do not want to name it; names are the thin net that caught me for years. The burn is a rumour. It goes through me sideways — a quiet rearrangement, like a convent bell that signals not death but a calling. My limbs answer first. They stop thinking of movement and begin to remember it: how to fold, to coil, to push. Tendons unlearn the polite phrasing of two-legged steps and curve toward the old, fourfold geometry of running. My hands tighten and flatten; the knuckles find a new logic. Fur prickles along my forearms as if a thousand small moths take flight together and settle again. Each hair is a note in a chord I’ve felt… no… known in my bones since childhood. Look again. See how the pupils widen, how the whites retreat like a shy moon. My last maps of metaphor — the maps that turned hunger into lists and longing into projects — dissolve. Where there had been a ledger of self, there is now only the immediate ledger of scent and sound and the earth’s exact tilt beneath my weight. I do not mourn the maps. I never used them as well as the human world predicted and as I pretended. Sound changes. Those little, trivial noises of the room condense into a chorus: the slow tick of breath in the person beside me, the whisper of fabric, the distant wet confluence of gutters. And underneath that: a low, patient life-frequency — root and soil and river. It is not music so much as an acknowledgment. I find I can hear the insect conversation inside the walls, the sap walking up the birch, the small, stupid heartbeat of a mouse two blocks away. There is an intimacy to it that is almost rude. Breath becomes work and worship at once. My ribcage narrows, then widens in ways I know but cannot name. Milk memories — a thing to shame into silence when human — rise like a tide: the cadence of suckling, the doctrinal simplicity of being called to feed and to protect. A swelling around my belly that is not fat but purpose. I think of my children who never were, of the packs I have loved in mute pieces. The notion of motherhood is larger than gender; it is a compass with teeth. My children! You are my children and you are my all! My jaw shifts. I feel the slow, inevitable rearrangement — a socket loosens, a hinge finds its voice. A tooth erupts where an organised thought had lived. The smell of iron, rain-damp soil, and sleeping bodies that have waited for me — flooding my mouth like saliva. Tears come and I do not know if they are human or creature; they taste of salt and release. There is a tenderness in my own trembling that I have never allowed before. Outside the window, someone whose scent I knew laughs and it sounds to me like a distant bell. The handlers murmur: careful, gentle, let her and her pack decide. My mouth forms the shape and bark of guttural assent I could not voice when I was wholly human. Somewhere a crate opens as if the world is taking a breath with me. They will test me further, yes. They will see whether my newness walks toward the wild or clings to the small, safe hands of fosterers who will teach me boundaries, how to pass in a world of paved things. I do not fear them. I am no longer wrapped in that ledger — of consent, of cost, of consequence. I am wrapped in appetite and mercy. The choice, if there is one, feels less like an argument and more like a direction: toward den or home, toward the kill lovingly taken or the bowl lovingly given. Look once more. There is no human drama in my eyes now — only depth, like a riverbed where stones remember every footstep. The last scrap of thought, the tiny librarian of my life who loved lists, things and order, exhales and steps back through the doorway we are leaving open. I feel it go, and where it is gone there is fullness, a pulse that answers the creature’s call without translation. This is not a loss. It is not my obliteration. It is the solving of a long, clenched equation. I am not lessened. I am finally the shape I have been learning. Look into my eyes, one last time. I am awakening. — Shimi & Critter @shimi.bsky.social
September 26, 2025 at 1:47 AM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
shanikafaceless.bsky.social
It was 6 hours of fun, thank you all :D
And oh God I have to figure out who Trant is I FORGOT HE'S HERE TOO
#DiscoElysium
September 29, 2025 at 7:32 AM
Reposted by Lavender ΘΔ
girlposs.bsky.social
September 27, 2025 at 4:15 AM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
These masks are still very much a perpetual learning work in progress. I am feeling really good about the improvements in my process so far. This one has whiskers and an adjustable strap!
Getting some new materials in next week to try improving things even further 💜
September 7, 2025 at 2:37 PM
lavenderpuppy.bsky.social
September 7, 2025 at 2:21 PM