#chest male surgery

[diet-coke-and-cigs]

hi guys i’ve made a gfm for my top surgery, it would mean the world if you could donate or share.

Thanks, Ellis :)

[princessxpunk]

42 seconds of a man eating goldfish crackers after surgery

[broken-dreams-are-a-reality]

Imagine I actually started to use this app again! Here’s for my first topless summer!

Looking for more trans people to follow as I’d love to make a support group

[straightasmyscoliosis]

if i can’t ever get top surgery ,, then at least my characters will . he’s wild kratts inspired sorta ,,

his name is eryn , he’s a wild life advocate and adventurer ! he’s a plant science college major and hopes to b a park ranger dog !! dog boy love <33

dunno if it’s too much to ask but if anyone wants to draw him I’d really appreciate it .. 🫶

[chronicroderick]

Hey y'all! I've started gathering funds to be able to pay for top surgery, something I've dreamed of for a long long long time.

If you donate and read long enough to find the key phrase, you can comment it on this post (it's pinned) and be tagged in a weekly original poem for donors that I'll be posting on this page!

Help a brother out. Reblog! Share! A penny, a dollar, a peso, it would mean the world to me.

[cecropiacrown]

Hello! Could I request number 21 for the Kiss prompt for Fengqing? Would it be possible to have Feng Xin as having the insecurity simply bc you see a lot of Mu Qing having insecurities and such but a bit less so of FX?

Much love and thanks ^_^

Thanks for the ask! I took a while to think on this one and decided to combine it with another prompt that was requested of me, hope you don’t mind! :) #20 a kiss on a place of insecurity/ #21 a kiss on a scar Content Warning: implied s*xual content ; trans male character

Mu Qing just barely ghosts the tips of his fingers along Feng Xin’s sides, the touch bordering on ticklish but not quite arriving there because that warm, honey-gold skin is still hidden underneath Feng Xin’s t-shirt. The two of them have been laughing and tumbling in bed for quite some time now—nuzzling, kissing, touching—and Mu Qing is down to just his pants and boxers, but Feng Xin is still fully clothed.

As Mu Qing’s hands reach the bottom of the shirt, he dips his fingers just below the hem, not quite grabbing the fabric but clearly stating his intentions. The atmosphere between them has grown serious and, as the two men lock eyes, Mu Qing sees the moment Feng Xin’s face falls.

“Hey,” Mu Qing says, low and gentle, trying to soothe a worry that’s quickly taking root in Feng Xin’s mind. Ah, but he can see it in the other man’s eyes. He’s spiraling.

“A-Xin, it’s alright.”

Mu Qing pulls his fingers back and presses his palms flat onto Feng Xin’s lower stomach, already rubbing circles with his thumbs in an attempt to keep him grounded.

“You know it can stay on if you want it to. It’s okay—really.”

Feng Xin is biting at his lip, contemplation tugging his thick brows down into a furrow. He’s still holding Mu Qing’s eye contact but something tense swims behind his gaze and Mu Qing can tell he’s more in his brain than in the moment. 

“I’m sorry, A-Qing,” and then Feng Xin’s pretty amber eyes fall dejectedly to the bed, his head tilting with them as his shoulders slump. Mu Qing’s heart could break right there in his chest.

“Hey, c’mon now. None of that.” Mu Qing reaches a palm out to Feng Xin’s cheek, gently cupping his jaw and raising him back up to meet his eyes. “You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mu Qing waits patiently for Feng Xin to agree before he continues. That small nod comes slowly and Mu Qing can tell Feng Xin doesn’t completely believe him.

“Do you want to stop, or do you want to keep going? Like I said, you can keep it on if that’s what you need, A-Xin.”

Feng Xin, the good listener he is, takes his time to think about his answer. Mu Qing watches that pink tongue dart out to lick those soft, plump lips and it takes all his willpower to not surge forward and kiss Feng Xin right there and then. His stomach swirls with want and he presses his hands a bit more firmly against Feng Xin’s stomach to calm down

“I want to keep going,” Feng Xin decides, his eyes flickering brighter with some newfound determination. 

“On or off, love?” Mu Qing presses, wanting to have the clarification before they go any further.

“Off.”

Mu Qing raises an eyebrow.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Now he raises both eyebrows, fixing Feng Xin with a steady, serious look.

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise,” and Feng Xin is so earnest it could make Mu Qing swoon if he wasn’t so ridiculously turned on.

“Okay. Just tell me if you want to stop, alright?”

“Always."

God, this man doesn’t know the sheer power he holds over Mu Qing.

Then Feng Xin smiles, his one dimple carving itself into the pretty mess of freckles on his cheek, and Mu Qing realizes that, oh, Feng Xin definitely knows.

Mu Qing leans forward, unable to resist the pull of those eyes any longer, and presses his lips to Feng Xin’s.

Feng Xin is still smiling as Mu Qing deepens the kiss, his hand coming up to rest at the back of Mu Qing’s neck as he eagerly tilts his head. With one hand steadying himself against the bed, Mu Qing brings his other hand back to the hem of Feng Xin’s shirt and tugs. He hungrily swallows the gasp his gesture pulls from Feng Xin’s lips and repeats the action.

Feng Xin parts his legs wider to accommodate Mu Qing’s body and the heady swirl of arousal seeps into the space between them.

Feng Xin licks wetly against Mu Qing’s lips, the messy thing he is, and it makes Mu Qing laugh. He presses a sweet peck to the corner of Feng Xin’s mouth and pulls back, feeling a bit smug as he sees Feng Xin’s closed eyes and parted lips careen forward in an attempt to chase him. When those pretty eyes finally open, dark and wanting, Mu Qing tugs again on the shirt, silently asking for permission.

Feng Xin’s breath is ragged, his voice already sounding wrecked as he stares up at Mu Qing.

“Do it.”

Like a bandaid, Mu Qing rips Feng Xin’s shirt up over his head in one quick motion. He tosses it nearby on the chance Feng Xin changes his mind and needs it back on, but doesn’t give Feng Xin time to even think about being self conscious before he’s kissing him again, slow and sweet.

Mu Qing murmurs against Feng Xin’s lips, “You are so beautiful.”

He places his hand firmly on Feng Xin’s side, kneading the skin in patient, grounding presses of his fingertips, and starts to trail kisses down his jaw. Mu Qing lets his lips map out each freckled constellation, not in any sort of rush, as he eases Feng Xin into the moment and further into the mattress.

He feels the hammering of Feng Xin’s pulse under his lips as he kisses the underside of the other man’s jaw and he can’t help but nip at the skin there. He whispers praise against Feng Xin’s burning skin, his voice rough with a kind of need only Feng Xin can bring out in him

“My gorgeous,”

He kisses down Feng Xin’s neck, licking at the dip of his collarbone.

“Precious,”

His next kiss is pressed right at the start of Feng Xin’s left pec, the heart that lays underneath beating faster and faster.

“Handsome Feng Xin.”

Feng Xin’s top surgery scars meet in a little dip right above his breastbone; a warm, purpley-brown tone much like the color of the sweet skin between his legs. Mu Qing presses his last kiss right to this spot, soft and lingering and worshipful. Feng Xin whimpers at the touch, his face twisted as he fists his hands in the sheets. He always needs this moment of discomfort before it breaks into acceptance and he lets himself breathe and be adored in the way he deserves.

Mu Qing listens for that quiet sigh before he peeks up at Feng Xin’s face. He finds his eyes closed, those dark lashes splayed across the tops of his cheeks, and a small smile on his lips. He presses one more kiss to this spot and watches the smile grow, his own heart expanding with it, and thinks, truthfully, that there is nowhere else he’d rather be.

“I love you, Feng Xin.”

“I love you, too. So, so much."

And Mu Qing shows Feng Xin just how deep that love runs.

[officialpenisenvy]

you guys know i have what i can charitably call. Very Complex feelings about my own gender and presentation. but one thing i know and love about this bitch of an earth is that there's cis women with absolute washboards for titties. just nothing going on in the chest department not even a hint of a swell. which sincerely gives me so much hope for my ideal future presentation of "masculine woman with a flat chest who can easily be mistaken/pass for a guy"

[demuredeadbeat]

Fuck's sake I'm meant to be shirtless 25x8, stop fucking restricting me @ society.

Meant to be the annoying and annoyed constantly shirtless lazy prick who would rather be dead or dying than wearing a shirt.

[neonhellscape]

Im not kidding, your magos biologis is the (catalyst) reason i am deciding to go on t and get top surgery

god im so with you on this one. good luck on your mission boss

[flamingo--ing]

its really upsetting how many years we spent hating the bodys weight and appearance.....when really its SUCH a gorgeous figure especially

[gayhenrycreel]

fuck... even though i got my injection at the right time i feel angry and like ive been stabbed in the guts. its hard to walk

[burningkingpeach]

Just a reminder that you don't need to feel bad about not getting top surgery as a trans guy. There are cis men with bigger tits you'll be fine

[stal3bread]

DISCLAIMER: this is about MY experience of transness, and in particular trans manhood/masculinity. Your experience of transness may not be the same as mine, and neither of us is more 'valid' than the other.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm really trans. Like, I managed to hyperfeminise myself for maybe a year, back when I was a 14-15 year old and I was desperate to be liked. Sure, I felt like shit, like I was wearing a costume of womanhood, but I kept it up. And I liked feminine stuff as a kid, and I've never been sporty. There were signs of me being trans as a kid, like me packing when I was four, or me getting a 'boy haircut' when I was 10 and it being the first time I ever really saw myself, but I wasn't really a stereotypical trans kid.

I sort of figured out I was trans when I was 12, I even told my mom after she asked me if I wanted to be a boy, but I guess I was too scared to actually be myself. Some boys at school asked me if I was trans, as if it was some disgusting, sick joke, and it was terrifying. That day, I decided I wasn't trans, couldn't be trans. And I sometimes wonder if the fact that I was able to survive three years pretending to be cis after that means I'm not 'really trans', whatever the hell that means. Of course, those three years were some of the worst of my life and I only barely survived, but I survived, didn't I?

But then I put on a binder or a packer, and it just feels like... me. It feels like this was the body I was meant to have. I think about going on T or getting top surgery and I just feel totally paralysed and stuck because I have no idea when I'll be able to transition medically. I feel like I'm living halfway, not able to live as a real person. I'm just waiting for when my life can truly start, when I can be a full human being with a full life. I wait with bated breath when I talk to a stranger, praying I'll get a 'sir', or just not a 'ma'am', because a 'ma'am' signifies shame to me. It's a shame that my secret has been discovered, the secret of my 'true' gender.

I don't hate being trans, but it's made my life a hell of a lot harder. Sometimes I wish I was cis, so I wouldn't have to deal with all of this shit. Mostly I wish the world was kinder to trans people, didn't treat us like a political talking point rather than a group of real people. I wish I could just... exist.

[spacepuppyart]

TW: BODY HORROR, OPEN CHEST, BEATING HEART

I was playing with brushes, and experimenting with style. This is still one of my favorite pieces, I intend to get a print to hang on my wall.

I'm not exactly sure what I was feeling at the time, but it was certainly intense.

[raisnkaine]

More of the husbands but in different flavors this time

The grumpy character, aka Sirius, belongs to my friend

[patchworkpunk]

i think im going to start expressing my frustration and general upset with politically charged graffiti and protest stickers