#f2m

[our-ftm-experience]

any transition guide that tells you to 'slim down' or lose weight in order to pass is full of shit. you do not need to lose weight to pass. let me say this again. you do not need to lose weight in order to pass.

your masculinity can and will be recognized without needing to lose weight.

[transguyarchive]

"Building a Male Body" by Beryl Dean Kotula

This article comes from a 1997 issue of Transgender Tapestry. Beryl Dean Kotula is a FTM artist, writer, and activist from Portland, Oregon. He has published other material, most notably his book The Phallus Palace, which documents the medical transition of FTM/F2M people in the early 2000s.

Read more about transmasculine history on the Trans Guy Archive!

[unreal]

I want more trans masc representation. Trans masc representation that accurately reflects people of color and their experiences. Trans masc representation that doesn't hinge on HRT, top, or bottom surgeries. Trans masc representation that doesn't stigmatize disability. Trans masc representation that highlights what unique situations are coupled with poverty. I want more trans masc representation

[lucaisonsns]

Morning Jog

‎Who would've thought that the weird, magical spell I found on the internet actually works and lets me possess someone. Today, I possessed my older brother for a morning jog. He's wearing the outfit I gave him as a gift, the one he never wore because he thought the color was too feminine. But look at him now… doesn’t it suit him perfectly?

‎God, being inside him is so much better than I imagined. Every stride makes his muscles flex under my control, and I can feel the weight of his heavier body, the raw power in his legs, and the way his dick bounces and rubs against the shorts. I’m getting off on how wrong it feels, my arrogant older brother jogging in public like this, completely unaware that I’m the one puppeteering his body and enjoying every filthy second of it.

‎With his body, I barely break a sweat. I could run for hours… and I just might, because possessing him feels way too fucking good.

[maletfwitch]

Peter Of Westview

Wanda desperately wanted her kids back. While studying the Darkhold, she discovered a spell that could permanently swap her consciousness with a multiversal counterpart. The spell was really hard to pull off correctly and could only be performed once, but she was so desperate she didn’t care about the risks. As she performed the spell, she felt her spirit begin to leave her body and enter the multiverse. 

When she opened her eyes, her surroundings were not what she expected. She found herself on some sort of spaceship. When she looked into a mirror, she was shocked to see none other than Peter Quill as her reflection.

It dawned on her that she had messed up the spell and potentially her only chance to get her kids back. She broke down on the floor and felt no connection to her previous powers. As her mind raced, she came up with an idea. She got up and examined herself in the mirror. This body was decently attractive, and she knew this universe’s version of her was a single mom.

She or now he would begin planning out how to end up with his multiversal counterpart. He would start by leaving the Guardians to return to Earth and start to put an emphasis on his looks, going for a more clean-cut style. Then he would slowly work his way into this Wanda’s life so he can be Billy and Tommy’s stepfather. Knowing everything about this universe’s Wanda from the countless hours he spent dreaming of her life, he was able to sweep her off her feet and soon marry her, no problem.

One time the Guardians paid Quill a visit and were shocked to see him now. Suddenly he now went by “Peter Maximoff” and lived as some stay-at-home husband dressed all clean-cut in nice clothes, spending his time taking care of his stepkids and occasionally going golfing with the other dads of Westview. It was like he was a completely different person unknown to them; he actually was.

While this definitely wasn’t the way Wanda imagined things going, he can’t say he has any complaints about his new life. He is just happy to be living with his new wife and kids while trying to be the best husband and stepfather he can be.

Hope you guys enjoy this one i wrote the original draft months ago and just now decided to finish it up.

[wiperofbloods]

>scroll tumblr, see a person you used to interact with reblog that one post about how it's apparently uncool to hc a character as transmasc when most see them as transfem/how it's apparently uncool to think that it's an already transitioned man that struggles with the way everyone tries to fit masculinity into a neat little box >point out to the reblogger how bullshit of an implication this is, and how within this community we are ALWAYS heavily discouraged by the "friendly" side of the community to make any transmasc headcanons >"why are you getting so fired up about this, do you hate trans women??" >how me being aware of tmasc struggles makes me hate trans women?? and, counterpoint: why are you getting so fired up about this, do you hate trans men?? >"okay i see that you are very #emotional about this and it #means_a_lot_to_you, but you clearly jumped to conclusions, overreacted, and hate trans women" > o _ o > o _ e twitch > o _ o

[misseviehyde]

BULLY BREW

Carol knew her daughter would be furious if she went in her room, but she'd told Alice to clean it six times now and she was still waiting. So long as her daughter was living under her roof, Carol expected her to at least be reasonable about such things and besides - her best stock pot had gone missing alongside a load of camping equipment. She wanted to know what her daughter was up to.

Carol knew that Alice was currently having a hard time at school, but that didn't give her a pass on keeping her room clean. Alice had come to the attention of some of the popular girls and was currently being bullied, but she refused to tell anyone about it and had screamed at her Mom that she didn't need help as she had her own solution.

Carol was struggling to see what that might be. As far as she and George, Alice's Dad could see, their daughter just spent all her time dressed in black and reading musty old books. Carol had offered to go the teachers but Alice had screamed at her not to.

Alice was what Carol's generation had called a 'goth' and her daughter liked to wear black makeup, dressing in black Victorian looking outfits and boots. She also had an obsession with 'magic' and claimed she was learning to be a witch.

Entering her daughters room, Carol winced. It was so dark and gloomy in here. Heavy metal and anime posters covered the walls and the room looked like a bomb site with clothes everywhere. Ripping open the curtains to let in some light Carol tutted as she saw her prized cook pot on top of a camp burner. A thick liquid was bubbling away.

She couldn't believe her daughter had left this on. She could have burned the house down!

Walking over Carol could see the liquid was thick and pink. Next to the pot her daughter had scribbled a load of notes. They sounded like the ravings of a mad woman.

Operation Revenge:

1. Make Bully Brew

2. Drink and become Alpha Bully

3. Get payback on EVERYONE

Carol tutted and turned off the heat causing the brew to stop boiling and bubbling. She looked down at it curiously and decided to give it a sniff. It was cooling rapidly... faster than any normal liquid would. In moments it would be cool to the touch and a velvety smooth pink liquid would be all that remained.

She breathed deep. It smelt good. Really good.

The fumes from the bully brew filled her head and she groaned involuntarily. She breathed deep and her skin tingled and her heart pounded. What... what was this feeling?

Staggering backwards, Carol's head span. She walked to the mirror and gasped. Her face looked younger and her skin tighter. It was like the fumes from the brew had been de-aging her and making her younger. Could it be real?

Curiosity swelled in Carol's mind. If a few sniffs of the brew could do this, what would drinking it do? A sudden hunger grew in her. A desire to drink down all the brew and feel its power fill her.

She knew she shouldn't. But she wanted to so badly. She NEEDED it.

Fuck it... why not?

With a wild grin on her face, Carol ran over to the pot and like some greedy child, began scooping the thick brew into her mouth using her hands. She moaned as she sucked down the delicious pink goo and overspill ran down her face.

"Ohhhhhh fuckkkkkk mmmmmmppphhh."

Carol grabbed the pot and lifting it up poured the pink slime over her face. She gulped and gulped as the excess dripped down onto her aging body, soaking into her clothes and skin. Slime ran into her hair and dripped down over her chest soaking her tits. She screamed in pleasure as she emptied the entire pot over herself and swallowed as much as she could, the rest coating her body and absorbing into her skin.

The empty pot clattered to the floor as Carol moaned and convulsed. Her face was a mask of ecstasy and insane pleasure as she grabbed her tits and squeezed them hard, rubbing the slime into her body.

"Mmmmm more... I need MMMMOOOORE! Fuckkkk it feels soooo good!"

Carol's arms shot out and she howled in pleasure, pushing her chest out. Bones popped and cracked as her aging body snapped back into perfect shape and her skin tightened up.

Her sagging tits firmed up to be young and perfect, the nipples hard as she groaned in pleasure. Thick white teenage bitch nails shot out from each finger as her neglected body hair burned away to leave every limb smooth and flawless.

Her body tanned and bronzed and her hair lightened, becoming blonder as her kind maternal features became cold and bitchy. Carol giggled and wiggled her fingers enjoying the feeling of the claws on her fingers and the feelings of dominant bitchy power thrilling through her transformed body.

"Fuck yesssss."

Her voice was now younger, brattier and meaner. She looked down and saw her dowdy Mom clothing soaked with the brew was also changing. It was tightening and altering in style to become a sexy little green one piece that left plenty of flesh on show.

Carol lifted a finger to her mouth and licked away the last drops of bully brew.

The entire cauldron was now empty, every single drop had been absorbed into Carol. Strutting over to the mirror she preened in front of it, enjoying how fucking sexy she looked. She was Alice's age now, but far prettier.

Her body pulsed with bitchy energy.

Walking over to Alice's wardrobe, Carol put her hand on the wooden door and watched as energy radiated from her hand and drained into the wardrobe.

It began to change, the clothes inside altering too, as Alice's room began to alter and shift. The excess energy from the bully brew bled out of Carol into her surroundings. Alice's room disintegrated and was instead replaced by a bitchy looking boudoir.

Carol looked around and knew that this was HER room now. The cupboards were full of designer clothes and this was her domain. She picked up her adult mobile phone and watched it transform into a bratty teenage bitches... the numbers inside and apps changing to reflect her new status as a popular bully.

Everything she touched was changing and becoming evil and bratty. It was kind of hot. Inside her head Carol's mental landscape was altering. It felt good to be a mean evil little bitch. New hungers were rising in her. She looked around Alice's former room and smirked. "Much tidier. This room is so much better as mine."

Something was happening inside her. Carol could feel her memories started to fade. She was still her, but she was struggling to remember her life as a Mom. She knew that she had been transformed by the bully brew, and it was now giving her a new bitchy life as a wicked teenage slut. She embraced it. It felt so good to give into these new emotions.

Fear, dominance, power. This was what she ached to have. She wanted people to shiver when they saw her. She wanted everyone to fucking worship her. She was Alpha now.

"Carol is fucking dead," smirked the hot teenage bitch as she took a selfie and admired how good she looked. "From now on there is only Niamh."

As she said it, she knew it was right.

Blonde hair, tanned skin, bitchy attitude. Niamh felt fucking good.

Suddenly the door to the room flew open and Alice gasped as she walked inside. "No! Not the Bully Brew. Oh my God, you drank the whole thing. You're only supposed to take a small amount. Mom - what have you done? The effects will be permanent!"

"Mom?" smirked Niamh. "I'm not your Mom anymore you pathetic loser. I'm your hot step-sister and you are my nerdy little step-bro. Don't you remember Arthur?"

Before Alice could react Niamh was on her. Pinning her down to the ground, the stronger girl laughed as the bitchy energy inside her washed over Alice and began to change her.

"Mmmmh you're such a small cocked pathetic incel Arthur. Can you feel yourself getting weaker? You love being my simp."

"Nooooooo!" screamed Alice, but it was too late as she transformed to her new sisters whims. Her breasts shrank and her dick grew and an infatuation for her more successful step-sister grew.

Arthur moaned as all knowledge of magic and the bully brew was driven from his mind. His shy little face crumpled into a servile expression of fear as he bowed his head and nervously adjusted his emo fringe. He was a weak pathetic loser with a porn addiction.

Niamh released her 'brother' pleased with his transformation. The excess energy within her was nearly drained now. She needed only alter George to make him her new Daddy and the rest of reality was already snapping into place.

No one remembered Carol anymore, only Niamh had ever existed.

"Being a bully is so much better than being a Mom. I won't make the same mistakes I did as Carol," gloated Niamh as she tried on her different clothes.

She giggled as she thought of Arthur jerking off in his bedroom and how he would never know why he was obsessed with thoughts of being a girl. She would enjoy turning him into a sissy loser.

The bully brew had done it's work well and this new bitch was ready to rock.

[rkhffrtggg]

Take a walk in my shoes. Part 2

The bell rang, echoing through the halls. Mark just sat at the desk—legs crossed, hair tickling her cheek. She stared at the blank pages of her notebook, trying to will herself invisible. The world felt alien. Every laugh, every glance from classmates reminded her of what she’d lost, and what she could never explain to anyone else. She remembered everything—being a man, being respected, being Mark—but now she was just a shy, pretty girl, waiting for the day to end.

Down the corridor, Rebecca strode with a swagger she’d only ever dreamed of. Tall, broad, his beard catching the last of the sunlight, he filled the teacher’s frame with so much manly energy it was as if the whole school tilted around him. His new body fit him like a glove—every movement natural, every flex of muscle thrilling, every deep chuckle echoing from his chest like it had always belonged there.

Class let out, and Rebecca made a beeline for the men’s restroom, his shoes striking the tiles with confidence. Inside, he grinned at himself in the mirror: handsome, hairy, jaw square, eyes bright with something hungry and new. He stepped up to the urinal, unzipped, and let out a sigh—so deep and satisfied it bordered on laughter. For a moment he just stood there, hand steady, feeling the weight and heat, marveling at how right it felt.

He looked down at his thick forearms, the bulge in his jeans, the way his shirt strained across his chest. He caught his own grin in the mirror and winked, almost giddy—a schoolgirl’s excitement bottled up inside a body that could crush steel. This was his life now. The way it always should have been.

As he zipped up and stepped out, two teachers passed in the hall, whispering to each other about the new man on staff. Rebecca gave them a cocky, friendly nod, his smile infectious, his confidence bulletproof. He felt unstoppable, he ran out like a little schoolgirl full joy and excitement.

Still riding that high, Rebecca jogged out of school and down the block, whistling as he walked. The sky seemed brighter, the world full of promise. He ducked into a neighborhood shop he’d passed a thousand times as a girl but never dared to enter. Now, he walked in like he owned the place. He bought a bottle of poppers, some fresh razors, and—just for fun—a pair of briefs that left little to the imagination. The cashier eyed him with open admiration. Rebecca smirked, tossing his bag over one thick shoulder.

Home was different now. The photos lining the hall showed a boy growing into a man—awkward childhood, proud adolescence, and finally, the bearded hunk he’d become. It had always been this way in everyone’s memories except Mark’s.

But the bedroom… that was a riot of pink hearts and unicorns, fairy lights glowing soft over the bed, teddy bears crowding every surface. Rebecca laughed—a rich, masculine rumble that filled the room. He didn’t care. He kicked off his shoes, tore off his shirt, and stretched out across the bed, all muscle and scruff surrounded by softness.

He grabbed the bottle of poppers, took a deep, greedy sniff, and let his head fall back, a blissful smile spreading across his face. The room spun, muscles tingled, the world felt limitless.

He didn’t care about the unicorns, the hearts, or what anyone else thought. For the first time in his life, Rebecca was exactly who he wanted to be: a big, sexy, confident man, cocky and content, hungry for everything the world now had to offer.

And as the lights twinkled overhead, Rebecca laughed again—deep and free, high on life, high on manhood, ready for whatever came next