self made man

Tyler tilts the can of lye an inch above the shining wet kiss on the back of my hand. ( Hazard * forcemasc * 24 * mansplainer * mdni )

[prickledprince]

Sad 6/14 update, im actually homeless after a family member threatened to take my life, the others compliant with his threats. This isnt the first time either; Its no longer reasonably safe for me to live here.

🏳️‍🌈🌱 Help a Queerpoc leave an abusive home — this Pride, I'm trying to build a future for myself 💗Any & all support, advice & etc is appreciated!

📢 REBLOGGING IS FREE & THERE IS NO REASON YOU SHOULDN'T, OR CAN'T! YOU'LL SAVE A LIFE.

Global page / twitter / Bluesky / instagram / tiktok / th / Contact: discord @ prickledprince

No matter how small, any kind of help or knowledge is welcome. I need a place to stay outside of shelters.

[flyinghazard]

the top gun shippers have found my post, this is fucking perfect

[mahawavy]

[anthonysperkins]

Edward Norton as the Narrator Fight Club (1999) dir. David Fincher

[i-bite-fools]

Forcemasc but about balding because so many of us trans guys fear it (including me)

I'm also actively losing hair so there's that too

[flyinghazard]

[escuerzoresucitado]

[t4ttop]

Today I read a trans man saying that we shouldn't fetishize top surgery scars.

Well fuck you because if I meet a guy who is finally confident enough to walk around my place shirtless, I will kiss and lick those healed scars until his knees buckle and thank modern science for giving him the confidence to allow himself to feel hot as hell about it all.

[kill-the-head-2023]

[amerlcanteenager]

[saints-who-never-existed]

“In the war film, a soldier can hold his buddy—as long as his buddy is dying on the battlefield. In the western, Butch Cassidy can wash the Sundance Kid’s naked flesh—as long as it is wounded. In the boxing film, a trainer can rub the well-developed torso and sinewy back of his protege—as long as it is bruised. In the crime film, a mob lieutenant can embrace his boss like a lover—as long as he is riddled with bullets. 

Violence makes the homo-eroticism of many “male” genres invisible; it is a structural mechanism of plausible deniability.”

–Tarantino’s Incarnational Theology: Reservoir Dogs, Crucifixions, and Spectacular Violence. Kent L. Brintnall.

[flyinghazard]

[flyinghazard]

[foreigntongued]

First forcemasc attempt

[girls-to-men]

i always thought you looked pretty in your dresses and blouses. Makeup always done nicely in the morning, coordinated accessories. Very put together. I could tell it took a lot of work to doll yourself up like that, and I tell you often. You’re a pretty thing. Doesn’t that take a lot of energy, getting all dressed up every day? I could never do that.

One night, we’re getting stoned in my apartment. You’ve never smoked— you hold back your long hair as you suck on the joint, taking a tiny hit before coughing and sputtering. I laugh and pat you on the back. Is this your first time? Don't worry, it'll be good. Pull your hair up, back in a ponytail if you’re so worried. Aw, you look so good with your hair all short. It would be easier to take care of if it was shorter, you know. Things start getting fuzzy, and you nod. That sounds like a good idea.

You're getting more and more high- I hold the joint up to your lips and you lake a hit every time. That dress you've got on feels scratchy, uncomfortable; you're shifting your legs, unable to cross your ankles naturally. What are you doing? You can relax. It's just the two of us. I take off my hoodie and let you wear it, here, take off that girly shit and put this on. Soft, smells like me, like weed and the scent of my body. And spread your legs out when you sit. Slouch and merge with the couch. There you go. Doesn't that feel nice? Shit, you almost look like me when you do that. I press the filter to your mouth again and you inhale obediently.

Your voice gets huskier the more you smoke, words slurring, no intonation or articulation. Your movements are slow, no longer like the graceful doll you were before. Lazy and unrefined, face wiped free of foundation and mascara, eyes hooded, head lolling on your neck. It's comfortable with my arm slung around you. I've clipped your hair when you're too high to fight back, and you don't complain. Everything just feels lighter when you're a guy. We smoke, and watch shitty movies, and I stroke your cock under your panties- the last evidence left behind of what you once were. You're a fag now.

[flyinghazard]

[flyinghazard]