#i want to try it. and i think clippers would make it easier to try fun stuff.

[fictionalmenxyn]

Tw: mentions of blades/razors and I believe that’s it.

Placing your hand on Ghost’s head to adjust his head so you can get behind his ears; you outline the side as you glide the clippers across his head. Humming quietly to yourself you concentrate closer trying not to hurt your boyfriend in anyway possible. You found this idly calming shaving Simon’s head, it brought peace to your knowing he trusts you to do something about his look.

Ghost never really cared about what he looked like. He wears a mask constantly so it wasn’t as if anyone would see if his hair was a mess or he had bad acne across his face. Not that it will really matter to him anyways. It was just annoying that sometimes when he’d move his head that a few strands of hair would get in the way.

The only time he doesn’t wear his mask is around you. He trusted you and only you. So he didn’t mind taking it of to let his face have a break from rubbing up against his mask.

As you shaved his head you broke the comforting silence and asked softly “would you like me to shave your face too?” He hummed in response and replied “if you don’t mind, love” he placed an arm around you and pulled you closer to him.

As he still sat on the lid of the toilet, you finish brushing off the loose hair that laid on top of his head.

Opening the cupboard you grab Simon’s shaving supplies. Placing his old fashion razor on the bathroom counter, you also placed down his shaving cream and started to run the tap and fill the sink of Luke warm water.

As you started to place the blade against Simon’s delicate skin you murmured “stay still or you’ll have many cuts” Ghost replied “learnt my lesson last time” you giggled quietly at the thought of when Ghost kept moving and you kept telling him not to but he didn’t listen and ended with cuts on his face.

He asked “can I have a kiss?” You smiled as you looked at your loving Simon and answered “of course, Si” you leaned down and gave him a shirt kiss as you wanted to finish shaving his face.

As you pulled away you watched as Simon’s hand moved towards your face and gently grabbed your chin as his thumb rubbed your lip. He mentioned “you had shaving cream on your lip” you smiled and thank him for removing it.

As you finished shaving his face, you wetted one end of your face cloth and wiped the excess shaving cream off of his face and then dried his face with the other side of the cloth.

He stood up, tall enough you have to look up. He placed both hands on either side of your waist and said “thank you, my love” you smiled and said “of course, no problem” you watched as he leaned down to give you a kiss. Breaking apart you said “I love you, Si” he replied “I love you too, dove”

I wanna mention icl I like the idea of Ghost with a shaved head. I think it would kinda suit him and probs would be easier for him. I swear I saw someone draw him like that in a canary I also believe I saved it on Pinterest but I tried looking and I couldn’t find it.

Hope you enjoyed!

Make sure to request/message me if you want

Have a good day/night!🫶

[blueskittlesart]

hiiiiiiii so um. ik a while back you posted a doodle of yourself with short hair and i’ve been thinking about cutting mine short—do you have any tips about picking a style or anything that might not be obvious about having short hair?

oh fuck yes I do! I've had short-medium hair in a few different styles since I was thirteen (im 20 now, so it's been a while) and I recently buzzed my head for the second time so i'm pretty experienced in this area lol!

first thing you should know is that if anyone has ever suggested that you don't have the "facial structure" for short hair or that you're not gonna look good with it is full of shit. no one tells men they don't have the face for short hair. i promise it's gonna look good. chop that shit off

in terms of style, be aware of the amount of work the style you pick is going to take. when I first cut my hair short the reference photo I gave my stylist was of a heavily styled cut--something that would take gel and hairspray and a lot of effort to maintain every day. The base cut was fine, but it didn't look like my reference photo without a ton of effort on my part, and at 13 I wasn't really willing to put that kind of effort in, so my hair ended up unstyled and kind of flat and weird for a while. if you're someone that doesn't like to put a ton of work into styling their hair every day, pick a style you can just wake up and go with. my personal favorite lazy bitch haircut is the buzzcut that i currently have. insanely low maintenance and comes with the added benefit of stopping weird men from talking to you in public. perfect haircut.

Also be aware of how your cut is going to grow out and/or how often you're going to have to get it trimmed to keep it looking the same way. that was something i remember being really surprised about when i first cut my hair off--when your hair gets to a certain length, it grows more slowly and you don't have to cut it as regularly to maintain its health and your look. when you have shorter hair, your hair grows FAST, and if you're not planning on growing it out you're going to need much more regular trimming to keep it in check. Make sure that that's in your budget or that you have the time and skill to trim it back yourself! Alternatively, if you're planning on growing it out after the cut, look into how it's gonna grow out so you know what to expect in terms of look and styling. I like to buzz my head mid-summer and let it grow out for about a year before shaving it all off again, because I know that I like all the stages of growing out that cut and I know how to style all of them. there's always gonna be an awkward stage of growing out your hair, but make sure that you're not gonna spend a ton of time hating your look just to get your length back if that's your plan!

my final advice: if you're looking for a specifically masculine haircut as an afab person, do not go to the same older female stylist you've been going to since you were 10 years old. trust me. You can show that woman a picture of a whole grown man for reference and you will still be leaving with a karen cut. she is incapable of giving you what you want. Either try to find a stylist who you trust to use your reference faithfully, go to a male barber, or cut it yourself! especially if you're going for a simple buzzcut or something similar, it's really easy to cut your own hair at home with a pair of electric clippers from amazon. I've been cutting my hair with safety scissors and some clippers borrowed from a friend for going on 4 years now. it's easier than you think!! youtube tutorials are your best friend.

now onto things you might not know:

listen to me. this is the single most important piece of advice i can give you. buy spray-on sunscreen and SPRAY YOUR FUCKING HEAD. there is no hell like a peeling sunburn all over your fucking scalp. it will happen and you will not expect it and you will want to die. you are going to think your hair is thick enough that it won't happen and it is going to happen anyway. do not take chances with this shit

you do NOT need nearly as much shampoo and conditioner for a short cut as you are instinctively going to put in your hands after years of having long hair. think, proportionately, about the product-to-hair ratio you were using BEFORE your haircut, and do not squirt out more than like a nickel-sized pool of product at the absolute most. your bank account and your hair will thank you.

short hair still needs to be taken care of especially if you're bleaching/otherwise chemically treating it regularly! if you're putting harsh chemicals in your hair you should be using restorative treatments afterwards regardless of length. no matter how short your hair is it can still get stringy and gross and break!!

in that same vein, you CANNOT be applying bleach to your short hair in the same way you do for your long hair. listen to me. Drugstore bleach cannot be sitting directly on your scalp for more than 20 minutes. if your hair is short, any amount of bleach you put in it is going to end up sitting directly on your scalp. i know it's tedious to do multiple passes but chemical burns are even more tedious. please do not put bleach on your skin

also in regards to bleaching/color, keep in mind that your semipermanent color is probably going to have less longevity in your short hair than it did in your long hair. Since all your hair is close to your scalp now, it's taking the brunt of your shampoo regimen and therefore the dye is going to wash out quicker than it would in long hair where most of the dye is further away from the scalp. if you're regularly trimming your hair to keep it your desired length, you're also going to be cutting out a lot more color than you would by just trimming dead ends on long hair. you may find yourself spending more on hair dye if you dye your hair regularly!

[every-sanji]

I don’t have much to say other than I really love your dedication to this, you don’t miss a pixel if it even smells like sanji lmao. You haven’t stopped since I started following you, and I feel like this is an archive the people need. Oda would be proud, I think ❤️ just showing so much needed love your way, have a good day :)

wawawawa thank you!! as thanks i'm gonna give a glimpse into my journey running the blog under the read more :)

this blog has been through a lot of phases at least for me. anyone who has been around since the beginning probably remembers when i still added captions to every. single. post. that eventually evolved into my occasional tag rambles you still see today but the captions ranged from commentary to just random thoughts i was having at the time. for whatever reason i thought i had to caption every post and this lasted for a while until i realized i didnt have to do that and could just post the photo.

also when i first started the blog it was at the very very start of covid and i got very bored because all of my college classes suddenly halved their work load and i had all the time in the world to do whatever i wanted so i instantly threw like 500 posts in my queue and drafts because this was still the era when you had a maximum of 300 posts in the queue. and since you cant reverse chronological sort your drafts, every single day as posts left my queue i would go into my drafts, scroll through all 200 posts in there, and press add to queue for 5 posts to refill it to the maximum.

eventually though i went back to school and suddenly didnt have as much time as i used to so i dropped down to anywhere from 1-3 sanjis a day depending on the era. this is part of why it took so fucking long to get through water 7 and enies lobby because i was going through it 3 posts at a time. i kept the queue barely afloat with like 30 posts at most in my queue and did a chapter or two every week. this period lasted about 3 years as i finished school.

now i should mention that with everything above, i was queueing sanjis from my phone. i didn't have an automatic screenshot clipper on my college laptop so i didn't really have any other choice without going through like 5 extra steps. i went through 4 phones (my first one was a galaxy s8 that i'd had from 2018 all the way until ~2021 when it broke, followed by some notepad phone that just couldn't run games for shit so i immediately turned it back in and went back to an s8 that used to be my mom's which i had until right before i graduated college when the charging port stopped working properly and i finally upgraded to the s22 that i have now). up until about august of *last year* i was making every single post from my phone. after i moved for my summer job last summer i realized my new laptop allows me to clip my screenshots and started queuing things that way.

anyway while i was posting on my phone i did have one brief period for i think a week where my queue ran out and it was during finals for my last fall semester of college since i just had a lot happening. we had a few close calls if anyone remembers summer 2022 when i was going through some stuff irl with a death in the community but it turns out i use this blog to ground myself when i'm feeling bad sometimes lol. funny how that works

well since last summer when i realized it was easier to queue from my laptop i've been doing it like that ever since with only one exception which you might have seen my tags about lol. i had 2 weeks in august this year where i didnt have internet and my queue was running low so i bit the bullet and just added posts from my phone.

as for how i manage to find even the smallest of sanjis: i mostly just skim chapters and try to track his movements between panels. i keep an eye on who sanji is next to and what other landmarks might be there and when the panels zoom out i can normally find him if he's shown somewhere. which leads to those insanely small sanjis that are five pixels tall. it's definitely a skill you have to hone through practice and i'm sure i've missed a few sanjis even doing this but i'm definitely a lot closer to getting every single one. i do sometimes wonder if these gimmick blogs are known outside of the tumblr fandom and if word has made its way back to people involved in the series. this is mostly just a pipe dream and i know its not very realistic but a guy can dream right.

and if you've read this far, just a reminder you can make me post more sanjis a day by donating to any of the gfms in my pinned post! each donation extends the current queue by 2 weeks so you can make me really expedite the process of getting some of these sanjis out there. i'm getting close to being done with punk hazard and i'm so excited to get further

[demonic-play]

THE ROOMMATE

It was 103 degrees and I was sitting on my couch trying to cool down with a boxfan. The air conditioner was acting weird and the earliest anyone could get out to fix it was Monday. It was Friday afternoon.

Jason, my roommate was home all weekend, and he was going to have his girl Tayla come over, but she hates the heat so she went out of town for 3 days with her parents...which meant he was home this weekend. He walked into the room, "Bro, it's fucking hot! Is there anything you can do about the air?" He flopped his 6'2" tall frame on the couch, wearing just a pair of basketball shorts and a white tank top.

I looked over at him, "Not this weekend brother, we are going to have to ride this one out. He was a skinny kid, probably about 170 lbs wet. "Well," he says, "do you mind if I take off this tank top while I'm in the house?"

I looked over at him and could see the head of his dick sticking out of his shorts. The head was larger than mine and if I wasn't mistaken, semi hard.

"Dude, I don't care if you run around naked but there is nothing I can do, sorry."

"It's all good bro..." He got up and went back to his room. I felt bad for the 19 year old, but I was sweating my ass off as well. I'm 25 and in great shape at 165 lbs, 6 foot even. No body fat at all and thank the cock genies, I was hung like a small horse. Eleven inches long and seven around, I did quite amazing in the sack, even if I did say so myself. I grabbed my cock through the leg of my shorts and started rubbing the head. It sprang to life and I was stroking the shaft when Jason burst into the room, naked and carrying a cold Coke for each of us.

"I decided to take your advice and lose the shorts bro. Still kinda hot though. Also I was noticing that my hair has grown back all around my cock and in the Crack of my ass. I don't want to go around sweating and smelly if I'm not going to have shorts on. Do you think you could help me manscape, Tayla won't suck my dick if there is hair down there. She gives good head too bro, and she don't even gag haha."

"Yeah," I answered. "Do you have a shaver or a razor?"

"Yessir I do, brb." He ran to his room. He had a hairy ass, I could imagine what his crack looked like.

"No homo bro!" He stated as he handed me the clippers and a razor. That was the last thought on my mind. I was supposed to have Inez over for a movie and popcorn, but with the air out, I had canceled.

"Trust me 'bro,' you do nothing for me!" I rolled my eyes. I spread out a towel to catch the falling hair and plugged in the clippers. Jason squatted down like he was about to crap on the towel.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Making it easier for you to shave my hole and crack bro!" He smiled.

"And how do you propose I do that while you are squatting down with your ass about a foot from the carpet?"

"It's easy, just lay down under me and shave me like that!"

"IDK 'bro," it seems like there would be an easier way?" I responded.

"We could try this way?" And the position he then got himself in, made my cock stir in my shorts a little.

To be continued....

[queeresthellhound]

This Post is About Building Gundam Models (but actually it’s about being trans)

I’ve been working on different Gundam models recently and realized there’s a lot of similarities between my experience building models and my experience being trans. So here are a bunch of the similarities I could think of:

- You can spend 10,000 hours getting tips on YouTube before you even start and a lot of the time the process won’t be any clearer

- Some people plan meticulously before they start, assemble all their tools, search for weeks for the perfect opportunity; others jump in headfirst with a pair of toenail clippers and a vague hope

- It doesn’t matter whether you planned it out or not, you will make oopsies along the way. So many oopsies. You’ll have to live with some of these oopsies and look at them everyday but that’s okay, because you’re making something cool

- Some people started when they were a kid, some people just found out about it in their 30′s, 40′s, 50′s or beyond. Just because you started as a kid doesn’t mean you don’t actually like it. Just because you found out about it later doesn’t mean you shouldn’t prioritize your own happiness

- It involves a ton of experimentation. Sometimes those experiments don’t work out, it sucks when they don’t work out

- The process is really complicated and sometimes it feels like you don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing. Sometimes you just have to wing it and hope it works out. Sometimes this results in oopsies, that’s okay

- Everyone has opinions on how you should go about the process. A lot of people’s opinions contradict. The more people you ask, the more contradictions you’ll find

- Some people will give you really bad advice. Almost always it’s not bad advice from their perspective but it’s really bad advice for you

- ”Why doesn’t mine look like theirs?”

- It takes a really really long time for some people and barely any time for others, but that’s alright, everyone’s process is different

- It’s one of the most expensive things you could choose to do

-The things you really want, or even need, to continue are often inaccessible and difficult to find

- Not everyone has access to the same supplies. Some people don’t have access to any supplies but are still trying their best

- Not everyone wants the same results out of it. In fact most people want different results. That’s fine because you have to live with the thing you’ve made, not them

- Some of the people who want a certain result will tell you that you’re doing it the wrong way. They’ll tell you that you’re “ruining it” or that your results look bad or that you should put more effort into it if you want people to “take you seriously”. Those people suck. We do not like those people. This is your thing. You built it. You should be proud of it. No matter what

- Everyone on the outside has an opinion on it. Some people will say it’s a waste of time, some people will think it’s cool even if they would never do it, some people don’t care, some people will insist you���re doing it wrong because it doesn’t look how they expect (even though they’ve never even tried it), some people will be way too concerned about it even though it doesn’t affect them at all and will try to tell you to stop and those people forfeit their privilege to be a part of your process

- At the start it can be exciting but it can also be hard and frustrating. The oopsies you make can seem a lot bigger, people will question why you want to keep doing this, you might even question it, but one day you’ll look at the amazing changes you’ve made and all of the beauty you created with your own hands, your own blood, sweat, and tears and it’ll absolutely blow you away that you did all that

- Honestly even after you start it can be hard and frustrating sometimes. That’s because it’s hard and frustrating. Sometimes you question whether you even want to continue years down the line. You’re allowed to do the things you need to make it easier, even if that means stopping

- A lot of people aren’t going to understand it. They don’t need to because it’s not their life. Do what makes you happy

[poealexholloway]

The hull and the claws

Ship and initial claw

I thought having the angle be looking up at the deck just off of the bow would look cool, so I started looking for references. This was surprisingly hard as I started with paintings, which annoyed and confused me as they were all at the wrong angles, with the perspective being either from behind the ship or a straight side view. I then considered painting them at the time and then realised that it would actually make sense. A ship sailing towards you would get bigger as you get through much quicker than it moving away, and the most common time you see a ship sailing is away from harbour.

Regardless I eventually found this ship. It is a three masted schooner named the blue clipper and is a commercial vessel that I believe can be hired to stay in as a holiday and used for training, it is also quite a good looking ship, though I have had to make some adjustments

I also did a very quick drawing of the simpler claw shape, which can be found on fiddler crabs. My thinking was the longer claws would be more intimidating due to their size but also less aggressive, like the thing it belongs to isn't doing it to be actively hostile but is either playing or just doing it for fun, though it could also hint to other similar creatures that are more vicious. which I think is terrifying. However, I seem to like making things difficult and wanted the claw to be more complex, so started to use the red egg crab claw as a basis.

Working out the cutting section

This required a bit of trial and error, my goal was to have the claw at an angle so that more of the back of the claw was visible than other images I had found so that it would appear to fit properly around the ship. Unfortunately I was having some issues, this process began with trying to get the right shape immediately which, unsurprisingly, didn't work. So I thought I could draw what I thought the claw would look like from behind and then planned on gradually shifting features so that it worked, but it didn't as I had the same issue as before but with no proper reference. However the idea behind the process, I believe, was sound so I traced over the base claw from the red egg crab seen in a previous post, and then shifted some of the lines over so that it worked. Unfortunately I also didn't screen shot the end result as I wanted to move onto the other side of the claw, the current lines are much smoother than those seen here and do actually meet to a point, though it will appear once all the lines are put together.

The crushing claw

Finally we have the crushing claw. This was much easier to do as it's basically teeth connected to a curve. I started by looking at the inside of the claw half so I had an idea of what they looked like, I likely could have done better with the teeth but they are likely to be irregular as they could be described as rocks grown on an organism and can be eroded by water and use in the crabs life. I have also accidently emphasised the idea that these are teeth as I was thinking of their function as crushing teeth, so have the vague shape of human molars. The main difference between the two iterations is the wider curve round the back so that it appears to be a larger claw, though there is also a more significant curve at the bottom so that the curve on a claw is there and I separated the teeth

[the-firebird69]

nice you pretned your forg nd stuff but ok they like it. and are only reactive nope

Zues Hera

and tons of stuff comes out of them no. are silent. deadlyl and we heard the macs. say it. them and we do this help him. he sees it all ist fat ruin him no no t us no

and we shall try

daniel

These match don't like foreigners at all and the foreigners don't like them and yeah it is your racism and seeing the foreigners do them in then that's the pseudo empire in the Morlock and it's their counterparts the minority morlock and they see it in Miami quite a bit and coming up it's Scarface who sees it yeah I'm saying and he sees it a lot and Scarface says it is them doing it they went on to sit here and swill and they'll have heaven because it's not that great anyways but it's pretty damn good compared to this **** but he'll be used to some fighting and they fight each other now I hear it in a long time ago and our son did too and it was a different time and they didn't think they'd remember but they do and I'll tell you what they do a lot of it and they're not resisting and the pseudo empire and the moral lock are hardly fighting them at all and they're trying to pretend they're Russian and someone's using nukes and it's just the most ridiculous scene and they're Russian counterparts get mad and expose themselves it is starting up there is gonna be a launch very soon and it's from Florida We are going to see them go up there and pretty soon they're saying Saturday and we think it's earlier than that and he's checking it June 1st and that is actually Saturday as they said and that might make sense Thus far BJA has not rolled any nukes up there or devices and is would be vulnerable it's not why he's not ready two days away it is the Europa Clipper and they're talking about clipping Europe swings and it is the trumps so those teams are gonna be coming in and they've had enough of him at Monaco no they wanna come in now.

We have a couple of announcements to make and we're going to do it here

We have a couple of announcements to make and we're going to do it here- We are experiencing some difficulties in this community that are not hashing out people are obstinately in our sons way about everything in his life is getting more difficult and not easier we don't fall for tochis ever and you people have tons of it and we want you out and we told you not to do it but you are so we're going to send in teams and minority morlock are coming in and foreigners are coming in and the numbers have changed and yeah you're doomed and soon after the pseudo empire will fall and soon after the pseudo empire will fall

- There are about 10% of Florida evacuating right now the Morlock overall are 25% but minority moral lock are coming in macklemore lock are at about 20% of Florida and they've never had it that low and they're proceeding to get ready to leave as southwest Florida is really the only area where they're left in any real numbers and they're losing here too. Up in Tallahassee they're probably at 5% and that's all more lock except for Pseudo Empire up there there about 25% in dwindling that's right they're getting small but they already took the diamonds out up there I come down to Gainesville parallel they are at about 30% and they fell from 45% and that's over the past three days, go down to Tampa across to Orlando the whole area is about 30% Pseudo empire down from 45% yesterday roughly it's beginning of the day maybe start to fall rapidly and they don't get it and in Miami the pseudo empires at 25% and they were at 55% three or four days ago they may come in in a big push but they're losing spots to some minority Mollock only about 3% on average and to the max and us and they will not be able to dislodge us we're fed up with their crap. The clones are being pushed out completely all over Florida they're about 1% or less and they're leaving they're not very happy about it but they are getting pushed out and it's pushing Tommy F is doing despicable things to our son and soon he'll be gone. There's more news

There's more news

- There seems to be a discrepancy here no you people heard it you're in trouble now with the fall of the pseudo empire you Morlock are doing worse because you get picked off and picked out real quick and what you're saying to my son and deleting is not acceptable behavior and the max are coming in and they said they would and they're beating you up pulling you out and taking care of business there are several changes you should note that happened here recently that happened here recently

- He seems to be a little bit better son's disposition. There's a few things that have changed fairly solid one is that he is no longer in control of the apartment and it happened about three or four weeks ago as he lost controlling share of the consortium and therefore even if he owns this more which he does not he's got partial ownership it's more than the others but it means nothing because they can do what they want and tell him what to do they have to watch him and he is always trying to do things and we do not want him here and we don't want him here at all so we are telling you that you are to cease and desist what you're doing cool you are the good arbor now speak to you can't speed up what's wrong no we're coming down I'll do a good day to help it's dangerous to me people remind me to know that you'd like me to do that I love you it's very helpful I was sick hello we're doing a **** out of somebody short in the earth you know why video two you could baby go to baby baby baby he's just amazing I don't say this you're saying religious to the point where we hate you we should never make voiceless as a matter of fact if you get picked up you think you're kicked out take me to this brother reginald Denny the fake black guy pulled a knife with a girl in school ended up knifing her and Scott mccracken he was gonna fight that's how it happened believe it or not and it was Jenna Terry Doyle and the 9th or 39 times for his own crimes it's Holy Hills she told me in school no no I think he was spotted with it he was uh oh inside the cabin you got to check so we're talking about a story in the machine picked it up and it's about Scott Mccracken who is actually Trump he got caught with a knife because staff saw it and he blamed the girl and it was not her. Stabbed her 39 * and got arrested for murder and died in the mental hospital put it and forced our son into it because of that and he said you gave me the knife and he said why the **** would you do that and you blame me i'm gonna get you erase you you don't talk back either. So he's gonna be gone soon and his army's gone and it's over a knife and it's true he used a knife and tried to frame our son who sent it to the garbage and the knife is out in front and it's reassembled and it was melted and the guy's clue clueless as to how you do it and nobody knows how to do it so they wanted out of there. Well now they do. So we're Printing

Thor Freya

Thor Freya

[unknownjpegs]

touch-up

His hair grows. Benji cuts it for him. 

“Bold fucking thing to say,” Benji snarks at him after a nasty joke at Benji’s expense. He scruffs Maran by the back of his t-shirt, gives him a shake that makes him jostle and laugh dramatically. “Could fuck your shit up right now, if I wanted.” 

The clippers are to the back of Maran’s neck, cold metal warmed by carefully repeated swipes over skin. They’re halfway done, but Benji could finish it right here. Leave him a partial mess: Maran’s criminally, terminally awful at giving himself a trim. Plus, this is part of the ritual. 

“You won’t,” he chirps confidently, stuffing another fistful of crisps into his mouth. “Love me too much. And besides, you’ll have to be seen with me. Too much second-hand embarrassment for you to handle, Benj.” 

He gets a soft, teasing swat to the back of his prickly scalp for that. It knocks a startled laugh out of him, mouth falling open so that a crumb drops into the dye on the table. Benji’s mixed it, but he’s got a shit eye for it so it’s a nasty yellow-green. Probably will clash something awful with his skin — doesn’t matter. It’ll grow out, and they’ll do this all again.

*

His hair grows out.

Not just the slight, gentle beginning of tight curls at his scalp, but proper growth. Starts to touch his ears, which is the absolute final straw. Except he’s shit at trimming it himself, and Benji — Benji…

His hair grows out, and Benji isn’t around to cut it, and Maran tries. He really, really does.

Benji tries as well, even though these days it seems like he doesn’t have to try for much at all. 

Because Benji has always been brutal, but he comes back as something else entirely. brutal. They’d both had a bit of a tough go at life: doing what they do with the knowledge they’ve got from the age they’d started (too young). The safety of humanity at what cost, a lost childhood, crushing responsibility, blah blah. Maran’s gone through that spiral enough in his short time alive to be tired of it. 

So no, the brutality isn’t what gets him. 

It’s how much more often, how much easier, Benji seems to find it. Tap in. Go elsewhere. Be…something. Maran has to work to get there. Has to pause before a punch, wind down the guilt and fear and sickness in his gut to make himself shed blood. Gets easier every time, and that’s what he’s scared of.

The ease is what scares him. Less than the snarl of a sharp fang, the crunch and squish of flesh — the lack of effort. 

And he sees that it scares Benji, too.

*

They give it a try a few times, and each is…not awkward, not really. It’s easy. Always is, with Benji. Always will be. But it’s never been easy like it is with — this new existence. If it can be called that. 

It frightens him. He would never admit that. He can imagine the look on Benji’s face if those words found their way up. If the truth sprung forth.

You scare me, Benji.

Makes him think, makes him consider things, makes him wonder. Mostly it makes him fear. He’s frightened by the tight, thoughtful, shamed pull of Benji’s brow when he twists a head from the body. When he licks blood off his fingers without a second fucking thought. When he puts too much power in a swing, moves too fast, reacts like a predatory thing instead of the prey they’ve always been together. Together.

Maran’s scared. Regardless, Maran tries. In the end, it’s not enough effort.

Or, honestly, maybe in the end it’s that he also finds it easy. That there’s no effort in looking at Benji and flinching.

*

“Got something,” Benji says one evening, gesturing to his temple. They’ve finished clearing an old warehouse that a nasty little trio of ferals has been inhabiting. Maran thinks they’re feral, anyway. Forces himself to think it. Kinda has to blur where that line spreads, because otherwise the look of fear in crimson eyes is recognizable. Relatable. . He knows how sour and encompassing fear feels, when it seems inescapable. It makes him as nauseous as the milky haze corpse-white glaze over one of their victims.

And fear is what he feels now, staring at his best friend.

Benji reaches up, jacket tucked around his fist. Reaches up towards his face, where Maran knows he’s only going for a streak of blood across his cheekbone, splattered over the fuzz on his scalp. It’s Benji. He’ll just brush it away, clean it off. But it’s not Benji, is it? Not really. Not him. Can’t be. Doing this, looking like that, tearing things apart, being a monster — 

Maran flinches. 

And Maran goes back to their flat alone, tears in his eyes as he opens the door. Because Benji’s not trailing loudly behind him. Not kicking his shoes messily at the wall. Not complaining about sore muscles or whinging about needing a smoke.

Maran had flinched. Benji had frozen. And Maran couldn’t look at his face after that. Head turned to the side, eyes pointed at the ground and squeezed shut. Prepared for a blow. Anticipating the pain.

When he’d opened them, Benji was gone.

Maran tried. He really, really had. 

*

His hair grows out. He cuts it himself, and it looks absolutely terrible.

Could fuck your shit up.

In a lot of ways, he stops trying. Benji is still gone. Flat is still half-empty. Maran fully alone. 

Well. Not fully. Just…mostly.

He’s not fully rotting, at least. Not autopilot through jobs he probably shouldn’t be taking alone. Has other hunters to run with now. Has friends, maybe. 

Lark opens the door with a grin, little shrug of his shoulder. Come on in, which is a funny sort of invitation to get from a vampire. And it’s a funny way for Maran to think of one in the first place, right? Because Lark’s friendly, fanged smile is all it takes for Maran to amend it to friends, definitely. Alone, until —

“Been at it?” Maran asks, gesturing to the mess of the living room. The shit coffee table has been upended and the couch cushions have gone flying all over. There’s a spilled Coke can on the ground, puddle of dark amber liquid soaking into the couch. 

“Xavier.” Lark says, rolling his eyes. The single word is a complete essay. “And —”

“Ben.” 

They share an exasperated grin. It feels like more. Like sharing an inside joke. You get it, I get it, we’re understanding this together. Maran’s not watching the loop close. He’s a link in the chain. Hanging around more often.

“Where—” he starts to ask, except Lark’s already sticking his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Just missed him. Went down to the corner for snacks.” He moves further into the flat, and Maran follows slowly as the space is made. A little wariness around Lark, even now — some habits are hard to break. 

He nods, looks haltingly at the couch, feels his cheeks heating when the vampire laughs. 

“Man, what have I told you?” Lark nudges him in the shoulder. No effort, but no strength to it either. Lark holds back, and Maran barely moves because it’s a gentle touch. 

Lark holds back. Because it’s Maran, and he’s human, and Lark doesn’t want to hurt him. Because they’re friends.

Maran blinks. The vampire misreads it, can’t hear the great thundering of an important realization as it bounces around Maran’s skull. He gets another scoffing laugh for his silence.  

“Mar,” he says affectionately, “go chill , ‘kay? I’m going out, but Benny’ll be back any second.” He holds out a fist, which Maran bumps absent-mindedly. “See you.”

“Right, yeah. See ya.” Maran responds, staring down at the grocery sack he’d brought along. Filled with his wallet, a few plastic containers of dye at varying fullness, and a pair of clippers. Benji had bought them for him. Birthday gift, along with a rainbow array of dye and some reusable gloves. 

Bin that disposable razor, mate. He can hear Benji’s airless, throaty laugh in his head. Your mum’ll kill me if she knew I was letting you roam about like some reject Trolls doll. 

* 

He falls asleep like that, fist clenched around the handles of the bag. He doesn’t dream, but he wakes. Intended it to be just a nap that he’d get woken from. But when he wakes up, no afternoon light spills through the curtains. In fact, it’s gone fully dark out — and right hen, as he’s rubbing his temple, is when retro cat clock goes off. He’d bought it as a gift for Xavier, partially because the noise was so fucking grating.

Backfires now, thought. His ears ring.

“Fucking hell.” Maran sighs, tossing the bag to the ground. He drops back against the couch, heels of his hands digging into his eye sockets until color bursts.

“Losing it?”

Maran jumps, sitting upright as his head whips to the side.

Benny’s stood at the end of the couch. Looks like trouble, as always: ready-to-run slouch, a single eyebrow quirked, that signature grin on his face. Maran watches as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it over the designated coat chair — the one Xavier’s always snipping at them to keep clear.

“Ah — huh?” He blinks up at the other man. 

“Once y-you start talking to yourself, there’s no going b-back.”

Benny drops a handful of chocolates into Maran’s lap — little silver foil wrapped ones. Benji calls it cheap, shit chocolate, but he likes them. Seems to be common knowledge.

He pops one into his mouth. Their knees knocked together as Benny sits next to him, arm slung over the back of the couch. Maran holds another up.

“Thanks. Was I talking in my sleep?”

Benny pauses a moment as he gets comfortable, then shrugs. “N-Not much. Nothing philosophical, don’t worry.”

Maran grins broadly. “Mate, trust me. Was not fuckin’ worried about that.” He deliberates over one of the chocolates before downing another two. “You knew I like these.”

It’s not quite a question, not quite an observation. Even if he isn’t waiting on an answer, Benny gives him one.

“Y-You got habits.”

It makes him grin wider, hearing something like that. He doesn’t think he has habits, but he supposes they might be obvious to someone else, if he’s being watched. He likes the idea of that. Being watched, having things that people pick up on, that they notice. Being watched, being understood. 

Lark isn’t interested when Maran’s introducing Xavier to binges of classic anime, but he does sneak peeks if their choice is some shit reality show. And even though Xavier can’t talk books, he’ll light up mega-watt bright if Maran dumps about his console repair side hustle, and listens when he talks about weapon mods.

Lark likes gossip more than he cares to admit, Xavier’s got a brain for detail and the mechanics,  and Benny — well, Benny’s got a lot of those things. Habits. 

Maran is thinking of several, becomes suddenly aware that he’s drifted, that he’s staring. He blinks several times, shakes his head and offers a sheepish laugh. 

“Sorry.” Hand up at his temple, he whistles.

Benny stares back, eyebrows raised. And Maran means to respond, but he feels thick-tongued suddenly. Even more so the longer Ben holds his gaze, expression flat as he works a toothpick between his teeth. Maran swallows, gestures again, feels stupid and strange.

“M-man, you are out of it today.” Benny notes, that jittery laugh cracking out of him. “Head wound?”

He slumps back against the couch with a heavy sigh. “Feels fuckin’ like it.”

“Should p-probably hold off on all that,” Benny teases, nudging the bag by their feet. “Ch-chemicals’ll seep into your fucking dome. Eat up all the b-brain cells you have left.”

Maran gives him a sneer, lip curled dramatically. Ben laughs, and that dry mouthed feeling comes back. He’s getting sick. Allergies, maybe? 

“Earth to Maran. I said: who was gonna dye it for you?” 

“Huh? Uh…no one.”

A beat.

“I’ll d-do it then. Save you the embarrassment of a shitty mirror-over-the-shoulder job.”

Another beat. Underneath the silence, Maran’s stomach clenches.

“All right. Can we order somethin’, though?” He follows a glance over to the counter, where a few bags of snack food from the convenience store sit. He pouts. “Naw, like. Nachos or something. Ooh. Or that pizza place? S’only a block — c’mon, I’ll call if you drive?”

Benny lasts longer against the eager, poking onslaught fingers that land on his arm, his side. And when he finally sighs — that I give up sort that means Maran’s pleaded his case proper — Maran responds with a whooping, dramatic cheer.

*

“She’s h-how old?”

“When she wins this tournament? Thirteen.” Maran answers around a mouthful of food. He smacks his hand down on his thigh, rubs the nacho cheese off on the napkin Benny had insisted on him taking. 

Maran is sat on the ground, his knees tucked up to push against the coffee table. They act as a table for the aluminum take-out container, which is so heavy it threatens to upend if he eats too much off one side.

Benny’s picking at his own food slow, on account for the trim and gloves on his hands, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s engrossed with the process, now. After the shave had come the deliberation over color, Maran’s toothy grin when he’d insisted on Ben mixing him something custom out of the options. 

(“You choose!” He’d chirped, plopping himself happily — with food and beverage in either hand — on the floor between Benny’s knees.)

He’d snuck a glimpse of the color in the glass bowl: dark, midnight blue. So deep a navy it looked black.

“I wasn’t expecting you to like this so much.” Maran shares, his eyes bouncing between either side of the screen. The soon-to-be-champion, a girl whose big brown eyes bug out from beneath he glasses, lands a nasty combo on her opponent. Maran jerks and cheers, fist pumping the air.

“Jesus — careful.” Ben’s fingers wrap around his shoulder, squeezing. His thumb digs into a spot on Maran’s neck that feels — he freezes in place, back straightening.

“Sorry.” Maran clips out, staring straight ahead. 

He no longer watches the movements of the fighting game characters on the screen. But…looks through it, eyes feeling too wide in his skull. After Benny carefully cleans up his hairline with a rag (fingers on the back of an ear causing his jaw to clench, his stomach to flip, to wonder maybe if the nachos were sitting wrong) they sit there in comfortable silence. He hears the occasional plastic click of the vape he’s trying to cajole out of Benny’s grasp, but not much else. Not the progress of the world’s youngest tournament winner, not even Ben’s own loud cheer when she finally brings home the last round to solidify that title.

Right as the Youtube video ends, a shrill beep makes Maran jump in place, shoulders up to his ears. It’s not Xavier’s shitty fucking clock — it’s the timer on his own phone.

“L-looks good. You g-gonna need help to wash it?“

“ThanksIcandoit!” Maran says. Except…actually, he sort of shouts, doesn’t he? His ears burn as he leaps to his feet, fists clenched at his side as he marches towards the bathroom as quickly as his feet will take him. 

The dye sits for another five minutes because he’s busy staring in the mirror, splashing water on his face, staring at the mirror, splash, stare, breathe, stare.

 And he only remember to wash it out when he drops his head back against the closed door. There’s a blue circle, like a painted sponge had been pressed against it. Later on, he’ll realize he secretly enjoyed leaving it, in a way  — proof that he’d been there, in the home of people he cared about, and someone had known him enough to pick a color they thought was beautiful.

*

Months later, when things have been repaired between them to the point that Benji will let him doze on his (cold, still) chest again, Maran feels fingers touch across his scalp.

“Shit’s busted,” Benji teases softly, plucking at a tight curl and pulling into it springs back into place. There’s no gaming tournament on in the background — instead they watch some punk  documentary that Maran will never admit is absolutely fucking boring. 

“Fuck you.” Maran mumbles, cheek smushed against his shoulder. “Your shit’s busted. Clown.”

“You’re gonna need a touch-up soon here, mate. Like, really, proper busted.” Another pull of his hair, so Maran slaps at his wrist until he yelps. “Be mean n’ I won’t bother.”

“Don’t, then.” Maran snipes back. “Found a new hair guy, anyway.”

Benji pauses. The documentary seems to grow louder, louder, until Maran realizes his heart has kicked up. That the background whoosh is his blood in his ears.”

“Oh did you?” Benji asks in a nasty voice, pushing Maran off his chest as he sits up. “Fuckin’ hell, Mar, s’that so? You got somebody like that? Hm — lemme guess, yeah? Lemme guess who —“

He cuts off into insane laughter, yelping as Maran paws and swipes at him, loose fists thumping against his shoulders, his chest. He’s so strange and solid; not in the human way, anymore, but close enough that it’s still Benji. It’ll always be Benji, he knows. Proof to the fucking point: he gets under Maran’s skin all the same.

[sonofsaviors]

(Potential) Relationships

These are NOT set in stone, but I wanted to jot down some ideas about relationships with other survivors that could be explored or help break the ice with RPing. And hopefully provide more insight into Logan as a character.

-Negan: Logan and his Dad get along fairly well, both having outgoing, playful, and sarcastic personalities that jive well together. Logan loves and trusts his Dad enough to express reservations about strategies and plans during Savior meetings (which he attends as often as he can). Logan wants nothing more than to make his Dad proud and see Sanctuary not just survive, but thrive. Of course, their opinions differ at times with Logan sometimes advocating for different approaches. He is extremely protective of Negan (as one of his only remaining family members) and will throw himself into dangerous situations without thinking clearly if his Dad is in trouble. -Lucille: Logan is most certainly a Momma's boy and adores his mom. He shares a similar sense of humor (and exasperation with Negan's eccentricities) with his mom. During her cancer diagnosis, Logan did everything he could to earn a smile from her and drawing pictures for her for her hospital room. (If) she ends up surviving her cancer diagnosis, Logan is as protective of her as he is of his Dad and rarely strays far from her. If Lucille has passed, Logan does his best to think and act on how she would want him to. He may not fully understand Negan naming his baseball bat after Lucille, but he is more understanding them most people about it. -Rick: Depending on their meeting, Logan's relationship with Alexandria's leader can be on several different levels of hostility, but Logan always has a respect for Rick Grimes and his leadership methods.

-Michonne: Kind of scares Logan and he has a healthy respect that she could probably kick his ass. She vaguely reminds him of his mom and he usually always refers to her as ma'am (Yes, ma'am/No ma'am).

Carl: Logan and Carl are very much alike and could have the potential to be the best of friends or greatest of rivals.

Judith: Despite his relationship with anyone else in Alexandria, Logan sees Judith as a little sister he always wanted and would protect her at all costs.

Simon: Logan is a little leery of Simon at times, but depending on certain aspects of their relationship, he may end up calling Simon Uncle Simon. He does poke him about being Burt Reynolds, but does enjoy spending time with Simon and some of the other Saviors outside of runs. Logan is very much the baby brother to most of them and while he is picked on a bit, it goes both ways, with Logan acting like a little shit to them.

Maggie: Their relationship is probably the pretty complicated, and Logan does tend to try to give her a respectful amount of space or right out avoid her, especially with how much he looks like his Dad.

Daryl: Logan thinks Daryl is pretty cool, but would rather eviscerate himself with a rusty toenail clipper then admit it, because he's pretty certain Daryl hates him. They probably end up butting heads and Logan will usually be caught between standing up for himself and avoiding the issue entirely because that's easier then dealing with emotional wounds from the war.

Carol: Logan has a healthy respect for Carol and generally is on his best behavior around her. He can tell she's not quite what she appears at times. At times she reminds him of his mom and if he lost Lucille, he does gravitate towards her for that similar feeling of safety and protection Carol might give him, but that he's too proud to ask for.

[carlageddon]

Now where was I?

So, after a small stint in Arkham... I mean.. Hospital, I’m now back.

The day before I went in to Hospital, I had family over which meant my Brother-in-law and I could go into Games Workshop to have a look - he too hasn’t been in one since the 90s.

The miserable bastard that I had a run in with, that I mentioned on a previous post, was working. I’m not sure if he had caught wind of my rantings to a sister-store about his attitude, or maybe he just got laid recently, but it was like talking to a different person. Maybe he just hated me and liked my Brother-in-law? 

Any way. We talked about the same sort of things. I wanted to get into playing the games, but don’t really have any friends. The ones I do have, don’t want to buy anything themselves and don’t want to play games that take 12 hours and you have to use tape measures, templates, make sacrifices to the old gods, or anything other than, roll a dice and move... it’s why we stick to a simplified rule-set of HeroQuest. 

He was instantly showing us how Warhammer: Age of Sigmar had dramatically been “streamlined” since the days of Warhammer: Fantasy. He took us over to the table where he’d set up some starter sets, and briefly talked us through the combat, which did seem a lot easier (I appreciate there is still a tonne more to it than that, but with the refreshed attitude it made the world of difference). 

We looked through the different started box sets as well choosing which ones we should go for (I seriously think, if the guy at the store was like this on my original visit I think I’d of walked out with a few starter sets). 

Sadly my Brother-in-law lives on a different planet in a different country we can’t get together to play anything which is a shame. However, due to the marvels of technology, we are trying to come up with a game we can play, using something like FaceTime to video call with each other over a game, both buy the same game and extras and play that way. 

If anyone has any experience playing any of these sort of games virtually (doesn’t even have to be a Games Workshop branded game) let me know.

We looked through pretty much all the box sets that were in the store. We figured Warhammer 40K, Warhammer: Age of Sigmar and Lord of the Rings would be too ‘large’ to try and do this. Kill Team would be too long & Complicated for two people to try and copy what each other were doing. Blood Bowl was a possibility, but again, both of us would of had to manage each others players on each of our own boards... then he suggested Warhammer Underworlds.

It’s played over tiles, so no tape measures or templates. There are only a few figures each side (known as Warbands) so easy for two international players to maintain two “mirrored” games. The box set gives you standard figures. 

I told the fella in the shop that I was about to go into surgery, so there was no point in me buying anything yet. I don’t think he believed me. 

However once I got out of hospital, my girlfriend, feeling sorry for me, said that if I got a game, she would learn to play it with me (this is a big thing, she hates the hobby and I don’t think she quite understands it’s always going to be a little more complicated than snakes and ladders). So I brought a copy of the Warhammer: Underworlds Starter Box.

So the first step is done. I have brought the starter game. (I see there was a Warband of Crooked Moon Goblins.. I do like me a goblin or two... more on this Warband add-on later). Now to convince my Brother-in-Law to get the same starter set... he’s trying, but will have to come over to the UK later this month to pick up an English version.

So far so good. Let’s take it out the box. See what we got. Boards, Dice, Cards, Miniatures on Sprues.. rule book.. OK let’s spend the first half of the day, making the miniatures up.. (had to wait another day to Amazon some clippers and a knife).

OK the 8 miniatures have been assembled. They all clip together so no need for Superglue just yet. Really like the modern figures. I am going to avoid painting these until I am a little better.

Now on to learning how to play. Let’s have a look at the Rule book... I mean.. it can’t be that complicated can it? 

   “History of the Underworld... something, something, tree, something, something, undead ghosts, something, something, Gold Army, something, something, what’s in the box, something... to start a game of Warhammer Worlds first roll the dice, if it is a Thursday and the Sun shines brightly and there are birds in the sky and if you had egg for breakfast you can put a figure down but not before you clap your hands and do the dance of the midnight monkeys.....” 

  I’m starting to get a bit lost. Maybe i’m stupid, maybe it’s the pain medication, maybe I need to go to Wizard School for a couple of years?

I know I will go to my local Games Workshop and ask for advice. Surely anyone that works there will have to know the rules of the games they are selling?

Bearing in mind, this is the first time “out” for two weeks. I’m still not great on my feet. I meet up with my flat-mate for lunch first. We nip into Games Workshop and there is a little Canadian Dwarven girl, on her own struggling to stack the top shelves. She doesn’t seem to chatty.

...you know.. maybe it is me that’s the problem...?

 I ask if she knows how to play Underworlds. She didn’t. That ended that conversation. 

(I’d of thought due to the nature of the business, all staff should know the basics of all their games, so it makes it easier for them to sell them, when I asked which games she plays, she replied. None. She just likes to paint. Well Gimli, on that basis I could do your job). So I decided to show my flat-mate the game, which led me to buy the previously mentioned Grinkrak’s LoonCourt Warband addon. Who doesn’t love a good group of Squigs & Goblins.

A week later and we venture out further and I visit the Gloucester store, I like visiting this store. The staff in there are super friendly, knowledgeable and always make the time to chat. The younger lad there knows Underwolds quite well and invites me to come in on Sunday afternoon so he and another member of staff, will gladly go through the game and teach me the rules. 

Then because of how nice the guys are there, I ended up buying another couple of Warbands - to be honest, it wasn’t a hard sell... “Gryselle’s Arenai has only just come out today..” Yeah OK then..

The Exiled Dead and Gryselle’s Arenai. Wonder if there is a list of all the Warbands out there?

I’m looking forward to Sunday and I know I’m going to end up buying more... 

I’m hoping that I enjoy the game and I can pick up the rules so I can teach my girlfriend and my Brother-in-law how to play.

Stay tuned folks and I’ll let you know how this journey goes.

[hal-o-ween]

I'm once again thinking about cutting my hair myself. I deserve to do something potentially really stupid to my hair at least once in my life. I think some day soon I might go buy some hair clippers so I'm not stuck just using scissors, and try to find videos or something that just go over basic tips for cutting your own hair

[itsjoshquill]

Trans guy’s guide to barbershops

Hi, I'm Jacob and I am trans. This month, it will be five years since I started socially transitioning and to celebrate, I thought I would talk about something I wish I'd had help with when I was younger. Haircuts. Specifically, the barbers.

It can be a really intimidating experience the first time you go, so I'm going to cover a few points that I think are useful.

Choosing a barbershop

How to prepare

The haircut

Extra tips

Choosing a barbershop

I don’t know about other places, but in England you can walk down pretty much any high street and find at least two barbershops. Putting my nearest town into google maps gets about twenty results in total, so you might be unsure where to start. This is totally ok! Take some time to think about your options. Maybe consider how close it is to where you live, the cost and whether they have student discounts, and what other people think about it. Most places have reviews online or if you have friends or relatives you can ask, that can help too. For me at least, my first couple of cuts were at a local place and then I changed and started going somewhere in town. Deciding you don’t like the vibes is also fine! The most important thing is that you feel safe and happy. 

How to prepare

Even if you pass super well, going to a barbers can be scary. My mum always drilled into me that a barber will only cut a man’s hair and the first time I went I was terrified that I wouldn’t pass and they wouldn’t serve me. In the end, it was fine. For me, it was worth it when I had a properly masc looking haircut at the end of it. Think about what you want your haircut to look like - finding pictures or asking your mates what they get is a great starting point. (Just avoid the 2000s Bieber cut at all costs, please/hj). Finding a youtube video or article that explains clipper cuts and fades is also a good idea. If you can walk into a barbers and tell them at least vaguely what you want, you’ll feel a lot more confident and the whole process is a lot easier. 

The haircut

I’m going to walk you through what happens at a standard haircut for me. I go to a little place in town, usually during the week. You don’t have to make an appointment, you can just walk in and you might have to wait a few minutes if it’s busy but there is a waiting area with magazines and there’s music playing too so it isn’t boring. When you sit down for the haircut, you’ll be asked what you’d like as they put the cape on. I normally ask for a number three (3) back and sides with a bit off the top. That means most of my hair is about 10mm long so it’s short and spiky like a hedgehog, but I have more hair on the top to style if I want. Then you pretty much just wait. Depending on where you go, the person cutting your hair might want to make conversation with you. It’s not normally that bad, just things like ‘doing anything nice this weekend?’ or ‘any plans for the bank holiday?’ and so on. Then at the end, you have a new haircut. My haircut is £15 and once I’ve paid I can leave. In England it is standard for barbershops to take cash, sometimes cash only, which is super cool for trans people who get deadnamed by their bankcards. 

Extra tips

And I will leave you now with some final tips. If the place you’re going takes cash, work out roughly how much you’ll need to pay (in the UK it’s usually less than £20 for a standard dry cut with discounts for students) and try and have it exactly - especially if you are the first customer of the morning because they might not have change. For my friends out there who bind, I don’t recommend it for your haircut. I know you’re reading this and thinking I’m mad, and I understand your feelings but trust me. The main reason for this is simply trying to get all the tiny bits of hair out afterwards. Unless you remove every single hair by hand, they will stay there and be really uncomfortable. Also, if you’re nervous about people seeing the straps, the barber might move your shirt around to brush the bits of hair off your neck at the end and they will probably see it. I personally haven’t had anyone comment on it but it could happen. You might be better off with a sports bra that has shoulder straps further from your neck. Finally, if you live somewhere cold, bring a hat. You might not need it on the way there but once they’ve cut half your hair off you are going to feel it. 

Most importantly, stay safe. If you want to take a friend/sibling/supportive parent, by all means do it. Having a haircut should be a gender affirming experience and make you feel happy. Experiment and have fun with your expression. You’re going to look so cool and handsome at the end of it.

Peace out,

Jacob

[messengerhermes]

How to Change Your Suit

Content Warning: This post discusses coping with suicidal thoughts (also known as suicidal ideation)

I'm gonna speak from experience here. Suicidal Thoughts (ST) show up in my life when I find myself feeling trapped in my life rather than living my life. This started in childhood for me and over time I've learned to recognize these feelings of hopelessness and being stuck as indicators that my metaphorical suit isn't fitting anymore. It is helpful to realize "oh, I don't actually want to burn this suit, but I definitely don't want to wear it as it is anymore," but it's also daunting. After all, I put so much work into that suit, and people in my life have helped me get that suit to how it is, and now I'm saying I don't like it? Who am I to reject a perfectly good suit? And also, where the hell do I even start in changing it? What if I change it and I still hate it? Darlings, your suit is yours. If it does not fit right, if it's scratchy, if it doesn't suit you, you have the right to transform and play with it a hundred times over to find a style that fits. And you don't have to do it all at once. Especially if you're finding yourself in the pit of depression when your bones ache and all the world tastes like ash. As always, take what works from this post and leave what doesn't, but here are some of the guidelines I keep in mind when I start to notice my suit not fitting:

Assess things by categories: What are the parts I am happy with in my suit? What are the parts that bother me, and how do they make me feel? What things are internal (a thing that comes from within me, ie my thoughts, my skills, my emotions)? What things are external (my living situation, support system, job/school, et al)? Make note of things I want to keep and things I want to change.

Start Small: It's a lot easier to swap out the buttons on a suit than replace the lining. Looking at my "stuff I want to change" section, I come up with "fast, medium, slow" changes I can make. For example, if I'm unhappy about my appearance, a fast change is buying myself clippers and cutting my hair how I want, a medium change might be phasing out wardrobe items that I no longer like and introducing new ones, and a slow change might be exploring HRT. Some items may be solved in a single quick fix, some may be slow fixes that you switch up halfway through. The point is to get yourself to think of these things as changeable instead of fixed in stone.

Invite others into the process: I get this is scary as shit and your mileage may vary on this. Others does not have to be your family of origin. It can be friends, it can be found family. If you have access to counseling in some form, whether group or individual, that can be a huge help. It can be looking up online support groups for depression, for an identity you would like community around (parenting, gender, divorce, neurodivergence, et al). Having access to places where you get to share about struggling and wanting to change, and also witness folks sharing about their own paths, helps break down isolation and create spaces for mutual care. You are not in this alone.

Seek out new additions. Sometimes the tricky part about feeling stuck in your suit is feeling something is missing, but you aren't sure what. This is where I start writing down all the shit I've wanted to try and what the barriers are to me trying it. Once I have my list, I repeat steps two and three. For example, I've felt ashamed of envying cosplayers who could make their own costumes for years. I had a sewing machine from childhood, and a couple years ago, I looked up free patterns online, bought some clearance fabric, watched a fuckton of videos, and sewed my first dress. Now sewing is a big part of my creative life. On the flip side, as a teenager, I got curious about bookbinding. So I checked out some resources from the library, looked at some blogs, stitched a couple books from dollar store sketchbook paper and lost interest. But I still enjoyed bookbinding when I was doing it, and it was not a waste to learn it. Explore things where you feel called to, let yourself pick things up and put them down. Engage in community, online and in meatspace.

Create a space of security. This is another tricky one, particularly if you're in an abusive environment or one where you don't have a lot of control. Maybe your safe space is not where you live. Maybe it's a swing at the park. Maybe it's a forgotten corner of the library. Maybe it's a cafe. Maybe it's inside your journal and between a pair of headphones. Maybe it's a playlist. But, whatever sense of security you can build for yourself, prioritize spending time in that space even for just five minutes a day.

My suit has looked so many different ways throughout my life. At times, I've felt like it would never fit right again, or would never be anything other than a joke to other people. And maybe some people would find my suit funny. But my suit belongs to me. I have the right to make it what I wish and to use whatever agency I have to transform it how I please. Everytime I have the urge to burn it, I pause. I consider who stands to benefit from me hating my suit, from me hating myself. I consider what radical power there might be in becoming. I will not throw my suit or myself away. I will remake us, as many times as we need. I hope you snatch your suit from the fire, every time. I hope you keep making something new with it. I'm excited to see what you will do. Again and again and again. I know they'll be brilliant.

[icannotgetoverbirds]

As much as I would love a talky bird friend, I’ve been doing research into little budgies and parakeets. Less annoying but in a nice way lol.

Do you think you could train a parakeet or budgie to sing a specific tune the same way you could train a parrot to mimic human speech?

Budgies/parakeets are indeed good mimics! Some of them do actually speak, though it's not quite as common for them to speak as it is for, say, an African Grey, nor are they quite as skilled.

Teaching parrots is all about positive reinforcement and repetition. If you play and/or sing/hum the tune around them a lot, they'll probably pick up on it pretty quickly. If you teach them that it means something, especially something that they want (like treats or attention), they'll be more inclined to pick it up and use it as a tool to get that something.

Before you teach any mimicry, though, it's important that you teach a few basic things. Teach them what the word No means*, teach them to step up and down, teach them to go to their cage (target training is fantastic for many of these) and in their carrier for vet visits.

If you can teach them to take a swaddling well, to have positive associations with grooming tools (nail clippers/files, beak grinders, etc), that's even better. For the carrier and grooming training, be careful not to overdo and create negative associations with these things, because that'll make your and the vet's jobs that much harder.

Flight training is also really good - it's best to leave bird wings unclipped so that they can catch themselves when they fall, but that means that you'll need to bird-proof anywhere that they'll be from floor to ceiling and flight train them. It's more work, but it's worth it.

If you want a smaller bird that's easier to take care of but speaks well, a quaker parrot might work? It'll be bigger and therefore more expensive than a parakeet/budgie, and it might be a bit more work, too, but that's one that I've personally considered myself. If you're not sure, I'd suggest starting with a parakeet/budgie.

(*The only time you use negative reinforcement is to curb unwanted behavior, and that's with a gentle but firm "No" and a return to their cage with no more attention until they are either no longer doing the behavior or they are no longer trying to get your attention - usually about 15 minutes will do. If they're constantly screaming, you probably need to spend more time with them regardless. They will probably often be making vocalizations of some kind, that's perfectly normal and doesn't need correcting.)

[dollslayer]

Pull

Sam Wilson x f!Reader

Summary: A brief interaction in the hallway with Sam leads to a mischievous moment between friends with benefits.

W/C: 1,693

Warnings: Smut, deepthroating, face fucking, hair pulling

A/N: In honor of Sam's birthday and @whisperlullaby 's 700 challenge (Congratulations!! I'm so soft for you Sam fics so I thought I'd roll with it!) I present you this!! This is my first Sam fic so I hope you guys like it! I know that descriptors of hair can make fics not always the most inclusive but I tried really hard to make this so that anyone could read it. If you feel like there's anything I can do better to make my fics more inclusive please please just message me and tell me! I want my fics to feel like they're made for everyone! p.s. - If you haven't already feel free to check out my other fics! If you liked this fic let me know! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

You’d always kept your hair short, it was just easier. When you were young you didn’t want to deal with the trouble of caring for it and now it would just get in the way when you’re out in the field. The last thing you need is hair in your eyes messing up your shot or it getting caught in the various straps on your uniform.

You’d missed two hair appointments before leaving on a month-long mission and came back to a mountain of paperwork. Before you knew it another month had passed and then you spent another two just catching up on the rest of your life. Getting another appointment crossed your mind but you kept pushing it off and you didn’t trust yourself enough to take clippers to your own hair. I’ll call tomorrow became a regular note to yourself, just not one that ever got addressed.

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to head to the gym that you looked at yourself in the mirror and realized how much your hair had grown even in just that short time. Sighing, you searched for something to hold it back with so it’d stay out of your face. After wrestling with it for a minute, you had enough to make a small ponytail. Okay, for real I’ll call tomorrow. You set off towards the gym.

Making your way down the hallway with your headphones on you hadn’t heard Sam calling your name. He jogged to catch up to you and pulled you back by the ponytail to get you to stop walking. You felt your stomach drop a little bit as a jolt of surprise went straight to your core. Your hair had always been too short to put up, let alone to grab.

The look of surprise must have made it to your face because Sam immediately let go. He took a step back and moved to apologize after he let out a nervous laugh.

“I-I uh, sorry I don’t know why I grabbed your hair. It looks good though!” Sam said reassuringly, “Have you been growing it out? Um, sorry, anyways, I just wanted to make sure you were still down for later.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Yeah, yeah I’m game for that. Just text me the details.” You replied slowly.

With a lop-sided grin and a nod Sam turned on his heel and walked the other way. As you pulled open the door to the gym you replayed the moment when he grabbed your ponytail in your head. Images of him holding your hair tightly in his hand while you went down on him flashed through your mind. What if he just pulled a little harder? Quit it, just get through the workout. You needed a cold shower.

___________

You did end up taking a cold shower after your workout, unable to stop thinking of the feeling of Sam’s hands in your hair. You two had been maintaining a friends with benefits relationship for a few months and tonight you were going to hang out.

You really enjoyed Sam in bed and as a friend, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to blur the lines. He was on the month long mission with you and you had gotten to know him so much better. You’d found that underneath his cocky and joking attitude was a good man that cared deeply for the people in his life. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want what you and Sam had to be more.

As you got ready for the night in you tried to decide what to do with your hair. Even though you hated it getting in your eyes you couldn’t deny it looked kinda cute when it was down. You set your hair free from the ponytail and let it fall around your face. You admired it in the mirror and set to work on your makeup.

__________

It had apparently been a rough day of training recruits for Sam, which meant it was likely going to be a rough night in store for you too. Not that you minded, Sam always pushed your boundaries but he also respected them so you never worried when he was a little bit more rowdy with you.

Much to your surprise and slight annoyance Sam was soft tonight. Normally this would make you swoon but if you were being real, you just wanted him to rail you and grab your hair again. Before you realized your feelings for him you were able to be a little more demanding in bed. Now that you were aware you were slowly falling for him you had become suddenly shy when it came to vocalizing your wants, almost afraid that you might let it slip that you wanted him in total.

As he kissed your collar bone you thought of ways to get him to do what you wanted without coming out and saying it. You suddenly pushed on his shoulders and flipped him so you were the one on top. You made your way down his body leaving trails of bites and kisses that had soft gasps escaping him. You took off his boxers slowly and maintained eye contact.

Finally his cock was free from its confines and it was hard as a rock. You smirked and took it in your hands, feeling the veins throb under your touch. You started pumping your hand up and down his length and let out a moan that gave you all the encouragement you needed.

You looked up at him and smirked. Showtime. You stuck your tongue out to taste the dab of precum that gathered at his tip while you dipped your tongue into his slit. He jolted upwards in momentary shock and gasped again. You could see he was trying to hold his hands at his sides, let you take your time. You could also see he was hanging by a thread already.

You took the tip of his cock into your mouth and let your tongue set his nerves ablaze. Slowly inching more of him into your mouth and using your hand on what you didn’t take. Until you didn’t. You took a breath and removed your hand, swallowing his length in one go. Sam let out the low groan that had you moaning in return. The vibrations of your voice caused him to involuntarily buck his hips upwards.

“Baby… oh my god, what on Earth are you doing to me?”

You just smiled to yourself and kept going. Sam gave into his instincts and brought one of his hands to your head, fingers tugging on what he could gather of your hair. He didn’t grab it like you’d hoped he would, just rooted himself in it and guided you gently. You looked up to find his other hand grasping desperately at the sheets with his spare hand. Okay, now do that to me You thought desperately.

You decided to double your efforts to see where it got you. You gagged as you tried to breathe through your nose while you bobbed up and down on his cock. His hips were bucking even more and you could tell he was getting close.

With no warning both his hands latched onto your hair to hold your head in place while he started to fuck your face. You were taken by surprise, even when Sam was at his roughest he’d never done this. You had to admit it was hot to see him lose control like this. You shuddered as he gripped your hair even tighter, reliving that feeling from earlier in the day. You clenched your thighs together and felt wetness stick to them as you kept your focus on breathing and getting him to cum.

Your plans were interrupted abruptly when his hands pulled you up by the hair off of his cock. You tensed in pleasure at the feeling, the tension pulling at your roots and the intense eye contact you made when he brought your head up to meet his eye. His chest was heaving, his cock pulsing and tensing from the near-orgasm.

“That was, Oh my god. I don’t even know what that was” He said as he exhaled. “Sorry I’m pullin’ on your hair again”

He untangled himself from your locks and pulled them just a little bit more in the process. You clenched your thighs again at the feeling and bit your lip to keep from moaning. Sam noticed this and his signature smirk graced his face.

“Unless… you like that?” He questioned knowingly “Does that turn you on? When I pull your hair?”

You felt heat come to your cheeks and you held back a coy smile as you looked away. You were almost too dazed and cock-drunk to feel humiliation but it still crept its way into your brain. Why am I embarrassed? He already knows. What the hell is this man doing to me?

Apparently you took too long to answer because one of his hands caught the hair at the back of your neck and forced you to look at him.

“Answer me, baby. Does it make you wet when I pull your hair?” His hand crept down your body and he swiped your folds. Bringing his hand up in front of his face so you both could see the way your slick dripped down his fingers. He smacked his lips and then sucked his fingers clean.

You could only whimper and nod when his grip tightened. His grin only grew wider watching you squirm.

“Is that why you took me so well just now? You wanted me to grab you? Wanted me to fuck your face?”

Good lord, the mouth on this man. He moved around you so that he was on top of you, lips almost brushing with yours.

“Bad girl, keeping things from me. Think you need to be punished?” he teased. His cock was still hard and you could feel it between your thighs rubbing between the mess you’d made.

“Yes, please”, You moaned a little at the feeling and nodded. This is going to be a long night.

[mysteryinkkat234]

Kaitlynn & Adrian: Like Sexy Dynamite: Prologue

(Before reading, I would recommend reading about my OC, Kaitlynn Turner, because that is the OC that is going to be used for this story. If you like what you read, I’ll maybe post more chapters. If there’s any scenarios that you want to see Kaitlynn and Adrian in, or want to request a reader insert one shot story, fly into my inbox, don’t be shy. Now Enjoy!)

Masterlist

I do wish our first meeting wasn’t like this, holding you at knifepoint before you try to shoot me. I back you up against a train cart, trying desperately not to kill you. I wish this wasn’t how we first met, as Vigilante and Clipper, we met before, as Adrian and Kaitlynn.

You came to me with your friend, Christopher Smith, right? He came to my record store asking what happened to Brady, but I was distracted by your taste in Gorillaz and Paramore music. 

Your gun is so close to my head. “Kill me and you lose important information,” I said strictly.

“You killed a man!” He blurted.

“He deserved it. He trapped women in his home, he would lure them into alleyways, he was also part of this drug ring you’re trying to stop,” as gently as I could, I took Vigilante’s arm and slowly lowered it, “you’re following a trail that goes way deeper than you think.” I try to explain calmly.

He starts to lower his guard a little, his gun still pointing at me. I quickly checked my watch, they’re gonna be here any minute now I thought. I grabbed my motorcycle that Vigilante oh so rudely popped the tire off, it was a struggle but telling him to follow me was easier, he even helped get my bike out of the area.

After a while, cars rolled up to the train yard, not cops. A hill had a view of the whole place, which was a good place to explain the situation. “You were in this train yard before, with Peacemaker.” I tried to start from the beginning, however, he cut me off pretty quickly.

“You know Peacemaker,” He asked genuinely, “also you were here and we were stopping the trade?” Is he going to keep asking questions? Time for some good ol’ fashion blackmail.

At knifepoint again, I corner him…again, now having him lean on my bike. “Your name is Adrian Chase, 30 years old, June 30th, 1991. You were here with Peacemaker, also known as Christopher Smith, 40 years old, in 1982. You stopped a drug trade and destroyed the Hyde Syrup that they were trading, you said it smelled like fruity cough syrup.” Putting everything in front of him, I could tell he was starting to tense up. I lower my knives so that he calms down. 

“Please, just…listen, you have no idea what’s going on,” as Vigilante started to relax, I started to put one of my knives in my pocket, I take a deep breath, “you are part of a team with Peacemaker, I want to be part of this team to help you. I’m not here to betray you, I want this drug out of my life forever,” I take a piece of paper out of my pocket and with a quick scribble, I give my phone number to him, “call me, you’ll know exactly who it is when it picks up. And if you try anything dirty, I will not hesitate to kill you.” I threatened him one last time.

You won’t kill him. You love him too much- shut up, shut up. It was only a threat, I didn’t mean it. Without a single word, just Vigilante staring at the piece of paper, I take my bike and leave the scene before I get caught, by anyone at this point. 

Getting to my house, covered in sweat, I take my helmet off when I’m finally inside. My pissy cat yells at me again to feed him. “Cat, I just fed you when I left, I’m not making you fat.” I complained. I undress and throw my hero stuff lazily into a hamper, and then I face-planted right into my bed. 

The negotiation had my heart beating fast, knowing full well he was the guy you saw at the same yard trying to stop the drug trade, he was also the same guy who came to my store looking at the punk section of the record store, even though he didn’t own a record player. And now I had him at knifepoint, listing his name and birthday as an intimidation tactic.

Adrian Chase was an interesting character. Reading up on him, he was kind of a mystery, which I guess means he’s been doing a good job staying hidden. Family history wasn’t listed in the profile I had, no other names except his own. Staring at his face for days though now has made it difficult to do anything else though. He had that face, you know?

Trying to sleep that night, the thought of him calling me or texting me made me go red. Keep your cool, don’t break the facade yet. I know, but it’s so hard. The Black Ops team has to help you in this, this has to be done with someone who knows more than anyone about what these drugs can do. 

Fighting with my thoughts seems to be a recurring thing, it started when I got to Evergreen when I tried to track down Vigilante and Peacemaker. “Please call me Adrian, I just want to help,” I whispered to myself, slowly closing my eyes.