#tw: transphobic violence

[lizardho]

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about some of the people I interact with. I have a coworker who I am pretty sure is a MAGA type, and she is also a lovely woman who is dreadfully overworked and so good at connecting to patients when they call. I can see the conflict on her face when she talks to me, a gigantic tranny dork who speaks Spanish and affirms the LGBT community, but can also talk to her about her cows and knows about guns and stuff. I can see the fear in the eyes of my former Young Men’s leader when he misgenders me and realizes that I’m not an ideology but a person he has known for a long time. I can see the way my extended family stop and stutter over political discussions when they realize they are talking about me. And I don’t know why but lately it’s just made me think about my neighbor as a kid.

When we moved to Arizona, we moved next door to a lovely retired couple - John and Lucy. John was a veteran of WWII, he had an M.D. and a Ph.D. in radiology, and he LOVED us to pieces. His wife, Lucy, was a sharp and gifted woman - well spoken, very observant, and VERY clever. I just know that she used that cleverness as a mom to great effect, because with my and my siblings she always managed to find a way to send us home with candy and treats for a week despite my dad’s protests. We loved them, growing up, and even though they have long-since passed away I love them still, and I love what I learned from them.

John was, as stated, a WWII veteran. He was enlisted as a rifleman, and later as a front line medic, starting at Point Du Hoc and moving inwards to France and towards the Rhine. He let me do a report on him in 6th grade where he shared war stories with me he had kept to himself his whole life - he said it was out of respect for his friends who didn’t get to come home and tell their stories.

He said he told me because he knew I could respect the memories of his friends.

He showed me his collection of medals, and which he’d kept hidden away in a sock in his attic because he’d feel an immense grief any time he saw them. He had wanted to be a doctor his whole life, prior to being drafted he was studying medicine and had taken the Hippocratic oath to Do No Harm. He saw his medals as a reminder that he had Done Harm.

After telling me his stories he was able to convince himself that while he had Done Harm, it was only because his only other alternative was, to him, cowardice. He chose to be brave even if it meant acting against his Oath because he felt that if he didn’t do it someone else would have to go in his place and he would be responsible for the harm that befell them. I don’t think that’s true, but for him it was and that was something no being on earth could have ever dissuaded him from believing.

He shared wild stories - melee combat on the beach, clearing artillery bunkers, receiving a Purple Heart for being injured in hand-to-hand combat with a Wehrmacht rifleman he said he felt pity for because they were the same age and he had to imagine the man he was fighting had been drafted just like him.

He shared how he was awarded a Silver Star for charging a machine gun nest, but shared that he was most proud of not killing anyone in the process. He threw a grenade with the pin still in it and when the machine gunners jumped to avoid being blown up they were killed by someone else so he didn’t have to do it. He took the machine gun and shot the other machine gun in that French field to pieces so he didn’t have to kill the people operating it. He said they were giving out Silver Stars like candy but I knew he was being modest.

He told me about being redesignated as a medic, about how he crawled for about 500 yards on his belly to rescue an injured tank driver, then threw him over his back and crawled the same 500 yards back (1000 yards total) to treat his injuries. He said he met the man in an Army hospital in England after his spine was broken by a high explosive panzer shell was fired through a hollowed out French farmhouse and landed about 20 feet away from him.

He told me about all the people he helped and saved as a medic, he told me about his work in radiology and research after the war. He showed me a hallway that was quite literally wallpapered with academic honors he’d earned as a researcher. He told me about how his first Fourth of July back was a horror show for him because fireworks and German artillery make very similar sounds. He told me about how he woke up in a cold sweat well over half a century later hearing the screams of German artillery men being burned alive with flamethrowers, or hearing his own voice apologizing to the young German soldier he stabbed in the heart at Point Du Hoc.

He told me that when he was asked to present at a medical conference in Germany 25 years after the war ended that he was so scared he couldn’t step off the plane, and that his wife had to hold his hand and lead/pull him with her. He said he was not scared because he was worried about being triggered, but because he knew that someone somewhere outside of that plane had the course of their life irreparably altered by his military service. That to someone out there he was the cause of immense suffering and harm. That some unwitting waiter could be the son of the Nazi Officer he stabbed in the heart with a 12-inch hunting knife. That some woman asking questions in the audience would be the daughter or widow of a man he sent to judgement with a .30-06. He was scared that they would hate him.

He knew what the Nazi’s had done, he knew better than anyone I’d ever met. He’d watched the documentaries, he’s seen the PoWs returning from camps, he’d seen the civilians massacred and tortured by their regime, but he also knew that among the monsters were people like him - idealistic 20-somethings who only wanted to make the world better and were ripped away from that life by the Nazi war machine. And he spent his whole life mourning the loss of innocence and peace that was forced on so many people by such a corrupt power.

To be honest I don’t know if I could do that, but he could. He told me he could still feel the dead and lost with him, both when he slept and when he woke. He told me he thought he’d go to his grave never having told a word of this to anyone. That the stories of him and his friends and allies would disappear silently with him and those like him. That he had wanted that until he realized that he didn’t have to sell out to share the stories - that he could give the stories away for free to someone who would love the people in them, and not just the content of them. He didn’t want his stories to be used as Patriotic Pornography by some TV network or magazine. He wanted the people he knew to be respected, he wanted their memories to be honored and loved, and he entrusted me, a 12-year-old “boy” to do that.

He told me for years afterwards that after telling me these stories that he slept better than he ever had. That by sharing the stories with someone who could hear Him over the din of victory and glory and honor and revisionistic history. Someone who could see the man in the story and not just see the plot of a battle being won. He wanted to be human, and he wanted the people he saw die to be human too - everyone, not just the people on his side. He wanted someone to see and to know the anguish of having to look someone in the eye as heartblood muddies the ground beneath them and hope that they understand that this was not an act of love or hatred but an act of desperation. To hope that you had just taken out One Of The Bad Ones instead of a medical student or a poet who had been drafted. He wanted me to see how hard he had worked since then to build a world without scarcity, to build a world of peace. He wanted me to know SO badly that the cost of violence, any violence, even necessary violence, is always ALWAYS paid by both parties involved.

I think about the rise of the new right wing - the new Nazi movement’s traction in politics, and I feel sad and scared - the world that Johnathan J Yobaggy, my neighbor, my friend, and my hero, worked SO hard to build is being done away with by people who do not understand the cost of the path they are entering. I can see brief moments of recognition in the eyes of some of the people I mentioned - The former young men’s president who immediately regrets misgendering me and hen he makes eye contact with me and sees Me staring back at him and not a faceless “ideology.” I can hear it in the voice of my uncle who quietly comes up to me to apologize for some homophobic comment he made absentmindedly. I can see it in the eyes of racists and sexists being interviewed on TV when they realize that they didn’t vote for a concept, they voted for a real thing. And honestly, I have mixed emotions about it. Because while I understand frustration with the status quo, the importance of basic human needs like affordable good and rent, and I know the fear that comes with feeling powerless, I also can’t help but grieve the endless wheel of history bringing us back to this God Damned Fucking Place again. I hope we can avoid this fate, not just for our sake but for the sake of everyone who has ever tried to make the world safer. For everyone who has ever tried to make up for human nature, for everyone who has ever placed themselves on the offering plate to protect others from the cruelty they know lies just under the surface of mankind’s tenuous grip on progress. I want SO badly for there to be a solution to this, for the people who idolize the Nazi party and the impact of fascism to see that the price of this path is paid in more than just blood but in soul. That they’re allowing themselves to be devoured too. I want for the centrists and the fence sitters and the idealists who want to “change it from the inside” to see how dangerous our politics have become. I want them to see that they’re losing the things that make them great in exchange for a security blanket that’s now become far far far too small to ever work for them again.

Safety found in the past is already gone, and safety found in the future is only as real as a daydream. That any ideology that promises that by “joining us now we’ll make things rough so we can make things safe in a decade” is a promise made by those who will not have to fight the battles they send you to.

I don’t know if America was ever really great, but as long as John was alive it felt great to me. There is no ideology that can replace a neighbor. No tax plan that can replace a friend. No grocery bill that can replace community and connection. No amount of budget cuts that can replace kindness. No amount of suffering from people I hate that will ever make more love. I don’t know how to make America great, but I know how to make my America great and it is not by selling out integrity and compassion and community and fucking humanity to make eggs and gas cheaper. It is by seeing and hearing the people around me. I’m not Mormon anymore, but I still know the value of mourning with those that mourn and comforting those that stand in need of comfort. I’m not Christian anymore but I still have Eyes That Can See and Ears That Can Hear. I want to make this all stop but I can’t stop the collective power of tens of millions of people so instead I listen to my MAGA coworker tell me about how sick her kid was last week. I make jokes with my Young Men’s leader. I hug my uncle. I let them see me fully, as a human and not an ideology. As a woman and not the concept of gender. As a whole person and not someone who can be easily summarized or boiled down into something short and quippy. And I let them know I can see them fully too, and I can see all their humanity as easily as they can see mine. I just have to hope that this works - that enough people can See and Hear the people in their lives who matter to them to bring them out of their personal world of forms and into the real world.

I am probably, honestly, just spiraling a little bit. I took my ADHD meds today and in addition to helping me focus they make me a little anxious so I doubt things are as bad right now as they seem. But just in case there’s any truth to the way things seem to be going, remember, and I mean this seriously: Be kinder to each other, be gayer, and read more Terry Pratchett.

And for the love of god day hello to your neighbor.

[auti-starshine]

Okay so here’s another fucking example of how transandrophobia works and how transphobia being on the rise doesn’t just affect trans women or “TMA”s. Yall keep saying that transphobic bathroom bills only affect trans women, or that harm done to trans men or enbies is just a small side effect of that.

Luca Strobel (a trans man) was assaulted, called slurs, and arrested for using a women’s restroom. He was minding his own fucking business pissing, and got thrown out of the bar he was in. Here’s an article with more info:

TW for the article, what happened to him was violent and disgusting, so if that’s going to trigger you just don’t read it. Your safety is what’s most important.

Don’t you dare try to tell me trans men and enbies aren’t also fucking affected by these laws. It’s DANGEROUS for me to use the men’s OR the women’s restroom in public. That’s not a privilege, that’s not “just a side effect of hatred of trans women”, or whatever other bullshit y’all come up with.

[v0id-clawz]

I wish I could turn into a dragon so I can bite transphobes

You don't respect someone's right to their gender identity? Well I don't respect your right to YOUR SKULL *Chomp*

[an-albino-pinetree]

Putting this here, as a reminder to myself, to stop going on Twitter

Tree, please stop doomscrolling Twitter, watching Trump supporters celebrate and say awful things is making you terribly upset-

[sydsixx-does-art]

digital art I created in order to screen print

[veryeyecodedtalkabouttheirocs]

Statement of my Magnus Archives oc, Aspen

Please look at the tags before reading

You have been warned

Statement of Aspen Blackburn regarding their encounter with a type of aggressive fireflies, statement begins.

Look, I am only doing this from the kindness of my heart, so after this, leave me alone. Ok? So here is my statement. I always loved looking at the fireflies when I was a kid. I used to sneak out to the woods but never too far, so as not to get lost. When I got there, I would look and listen to the fireflies. Their little voices would take my mind off my parents' constant fighting. I would appreciate how they lit up the night sky. How I wished to be a firefly and how their voices called me, but I ignored it . I looked at them and listened to them as a coping skill until I was eighteen years old. During that time, I tried to be their perfect child with perfect grades. I also figured out that I was non-binary and used they/she pronouns.

When I turned eighteen years old, I decided to come out to my sister, Eve, because I thought I could trust her. How wrong I was. She purposely told our parents about it and they didn't take it well. My parents told me that I needed to be cleansed of this "demon." So they kicked me out and disowned me. There was no one I could go to help me; everyone in the town was transphobic, and no doubt my parents would tell the town of my betrayal.

So I ran to my safe place, the woods. Before, I didn't go far into the woods because I was scared to be lost and die in those woods, but thinking about it now I rather die in those woods then slowly kill myself dealing with my "family". This time, I followed the swarming voices as I went deeper and deeper into the woods; the voice took me to a large pond with these fireflies swarming like they were wasps I could tell were singing their song to me. I felt like I was in trance listening to the voices of the fireflies. So, I quietly walked closer to the things that had been my distraction from my horrible life. As I walked closer, the song from the fireflies got louder and louder when I was standing right in front of them. That's all I could hear. They sang their song "Come toward us, we needed a new host and you're the perfect fit”

I don't know how long I stood there listening to their songs. until I walked closer and closer as the swarm came closer and closer to me, I didn't even notice until too late that I was trapped by the fireflies. I tried to scream, but before any sound could come out, the fireflies suddenly started to swarm into my mouth. I choked and choked, and they went down my throat into my stomach. I tried and tried to scream, to shout anything for this to stop. They kept going and going as they landed on my hands, neck, and stomach. anywhere was skin, and they borrowed into my skin, carving through my entire body.

As it kept craving into me, their tiny voices comforted me, telling me how my anger towards my parents and sister were completely valid. They told me how if I let them take my body, they could help me get revenge on my parents. As that sentence came out of their mouth, I wasn't scared of them anymore. I realized they actually were my friends trying to help me out of a shitty situation. Pardon the language.

As they finished, they were infecting me with their love. They helped come up with the perfect plan. If they would never love me, maybe I could change their mind with the love I was given. So I went out of the woods and gently knocked on the door. My father answered, his eyes widened at my appearance. I guess holes covering all over you will do that. Before he could do anything, I shoved him backwards and towered over him; as that was happening, I guess Mom and my sister ran into the room with the same shock and horror as my father on their faces. "What happened to you?" Asked my sister. I say in the sweetest tone I could muster, covered in all the hate I felt. "Well, sister of mine since, you can't love for the way I am, I am bringing you someone love, that well will change your opinion on me.”

"What could ever change my opinion on a freak like, " my mother laughed as my father and sister laughed along with her. "Well, I guess you will never change your horrible ways on your own. Now my fireflies let me feel the pain I felt as karma bites off your flesh." Before my family could say anything else, my firefly friends came out of holes in my body and started digging as they begged and begged for mercy as I soaked up their screams of fear. As their thrashing and screams got weaker and weaker, I took it in with pride. After their death, and I guess you know that with your stupid institute, I killed everyone in the town, which I will spare the details of. I will end this little statement here. Just know, don't come find me and just let me do my work with my fireflies in peace.

Statement ends

[helpmeimblorboing]

When fighting for one's rights, there is no line too far, no wound too deep to leave on our oppressors.

I know it's common to say that "sexuality isn't a war", but it is - it's always been one, and as long as people like DeSantis and Trump, it will always be one. All we can do is ensure that we win it

And if you ever think that we're in the wrong - remember Brianna Ghey. Remember Brandon Teena. Remember Pranshu Yadav.

Tragic deaths, caused by what we are fighting.

Do not give up the fight - no matter how hopeless it may seem, and, in the words of Dylan Thomas, "Do not go gentle into that good night"

[sydsixxftm]

Why Did Syd Sixx Leave Porn?

TW for SA I originally wasn't going to say anything, because of how painful the situation is. I didn't want to speak out at all at first because of the social pressure not to speak up on these type of things.

In February of 2024 I was vaginally raped by a trans woman. She was homeless, I opened my home to her out of trans solidarity, and she raped me in my own bed.

After the she violated my body I couldn't have sex or even touch myself for about 4 months. I made the decision to leave the porn industry because it was too painful to keep going. Even with my own intimate partners in my personal sex life I began to have panic attacks when touched.

Not only was the sexual assault damaging to my 6 year long career as an adult performer, it ruined my sense of self. I was so dysphoric and suicidal. My entire world, everything I knew, was ripped away from me.

When I had mentioned being raped by a trans woman, I was met with multiple dogpiles telling me to detransiton, death threats, and other harassment. I tried to be very clear that I do not view all trans women as rapists, but they attacked me viscously anyways. I spiraled into a deep depression.

I left the porn industry behind because I couldn't force myself to keep going. And honestly? It was the best decision I have ever made for myself. For the first time in my life I am developing a healthy relationship to sex and a healthy relationship with my body. My dysphoria has also improved since leaving modeling behind. The porn industry was keeping me in a cycle of psychological abuse. Studies show that being a sex worker is more traumatic than being a EMT, being an ER nurse during covid, and even worse for the mind than being a troop who saw combat. It's no longer worth it to be to let myself be sexually abused for money. I can look back fondly on some of my performances. but overall... the sex industry is nothing but abuse, rape, and death. I watched it chew up and spit out so many trans people. I've watched the industry push young trans people to suicide attempts. I can't ever go back. I don't hate sex workers, I hate the sex industry.

Side note: yes I'm still upset about the how toxic the trans community is to survivors of rape by a trans woman. There is a SERIOUS issue of intracommunity sexual violence that we cannot even address without being called a transphobe and told to detrans or to unalive myself. You should be ashamed about the way you treat survivors in your own community

[genderkoolaid]

you made a post abt stuff like this recently i believe, but i just get so tired when i see stuff like this. like no actually transmen do get attacked and killed over this believe it or not :/

like without fail someone will use transmen as a gotcha in the bathroom debate and then completely ignore what can and has happened.

"They forget they exist" uggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

It's not even remotely following a line of logic. The mindset of erasure truly has people thinking "if cis people walk in the bathrooms and see someone they think is "male" and it's a trans woman, they will get angry, but if it's a trans man, they will be magically unable to conceive of them at all!"

Like y'all realize when people talk about transmasc invisibility, they aren't being literal. We still exist as visible 4 dimensional creatures violating patriarchal gender norms.

I'm assuming they meant trans women in the women's bathrooms, but even if they did mean men's. Surprise! Those are not magically safe either! Transmascs have been attacked in men's bathrooms specifically for being transmasc! (tw for physical and sexual violence below the cut)

Caesar Lewis was physically dragged out of a club bathroom by his hair while still partially undressed and thrown into the street, called a faggot and the h slur, and was told: “If you come here and use the male washroom again little girl, you and your friend will be dragged out and we’ll bring you behind the building this time.” When he demanded his jacket from the coat room, he was backhanded and kicked by three bouncers until he lost consciousness. This was in 2016.

There are two cases of attacks on trans boys in boy's bathrooms I've found so far: one from 2019 in which a trans boy was physically and sexually assaulted by a group of cis boys, and one from 2021 in which cis boys started changing transphobic slurs and attempting to kick in the stall door when a trans boy came in.

[digenerate-trash]

Bailey

Bailey VS the world 

sold to the Underground 

Fufilment 

Bailey doesn't play well with others

precarious alliance 

poking the bear

paternity issues 

bitting off more then he can chew

Bailey's toy (M!Pc F!Bailey)

Paying your way

temptation issues 

normal bailey and yan avery

hired help

new flame 

Bailey teaches you how to use a fucking gun

secret meetings (F bailey)

Two baileys

tit fuck

Branding 

Baby fever 

bailey smut 

Please come get me

headcannons

jerking off for bailey headcannons 

Bailey Robin Whitney threesome headcannon

the email from “Please come get me”

yan vs normal bailey headcannons

DOB Bailey headcannons 

% of yandere

unwanted child headcannon

bailey meets haley. (Stardew Crossover headcannon)

missing pc blurb (bailey briar kylar)

Team up headcannons for Briar and Bailey 

Bailey doesn't sleep headcannon 

april fools headcannons 

team up with robin- headcannons 

more stardew crossover 

Bailey doesn't play well with others headcannons 2

leaving town headcannons 

bailey vs the underground crew

comparing baileys (tw Transphobic language) headcannons 

promiscuous Pc headcannons 

robin working with bailey headcannons 

Valentines headcannons 

Love interests valentines headcannons

older love interests TF 

Angel TF 2

Angel TF 3

How are they yandere? Headcannons 

forgiven fallen angel headcannons 

HIT AND RUN MENTION headcannons

Doll for Bailey Headcannons 

Angel censorship 

Angel abuse

purity though Violence 

Bailey and whitney (drawing)

response chart (drawing)

more Stardew Crossover (drawing)

DOB Bailey 

dob bailey smut 

hunter calls

learning the ropes

DOB Bailey headcannons 

more headcannons 

cross over between undertale and DOB 

family headcannons 

Regular vs yan DOB bailey (drawing)

Bear DOB bailey (drawing)