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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 5 months

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I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #vox x reader #valentino x reader #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader

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transform4u · 2 months

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Waking up to the GothamEnlighten App

Alan sat stiffly on the hotel bed, his demeanor rigid and disapproving as he scrolled through Grindr with a critical eye. His white button-up shirt and meticulously tailored suit conveyed an aura of primness and control, starkly contrasting with the chaotic energy of New York City that seeped through the windows.

"Ugh… too fat… ugh too femm… ugh… there's no way he's a top," he muttered disdainfully, dismissing profiles with a flick of his thumb. Each rejection was punctuated by a derisive tap of his phone screen: Brrrrup! "Ugh, no Mexicans!" he sent with a cocky smile, followed by muttered complaints about the diversity of men in the city. Brrrrup! "Ew. there's no way I'm hooking up with a dirty Arab!" he hissed. Brrrrup! Brrrrup! Brrrrup! Brrrrup! Brrrrup! Brrrrup! Brrrrup!

Alan was an enigma of sorts in his own right—a gay man who staunchly identified as a Republican, aligning himself with conservative values even as he navigated the complexities of his sexuality. Raised in Texas, he found solace in the familiar landscapes and cultural norms of his upbringing, viewing them as a bastion of what he deemed "real American values."

To him, New York City was an assault on everything he held dear. The cacophony of languages, the litter-strewn streets, and the perceived lack of order grated against his sensibilities. In his mind, this concrete jungle was a far cry from the rugged plains and prairies of home, where, despite its challenges, he felt a sense of belonging among those who shared his background and beliefs.

Alan epitomized a privileged, narrow-minded perspective within the gay community—an individual who adhered strictly to his own standards of acceptability, rejecting anyone who didn't fit his idealized image.

An intrusive ad suddenly popped up on Grindr: "Looking for the perfect New York night? Let GothamEnlighten help." Alan's attempts to dismiss it were futile; the ad persisted, appearing repeatedly until he reluctantly clicked "accept," his confusion palpable.

A sudden static shock coursed through Alan's body from his phone, causing him to flinch involuntarily. His screen flashed with frenetic activity, numbers and images cascading as if his digital life was being laid bare.

His Instagram feed revealed a carefully curated façade: images of Alan at conservative gatherings and high-society events in Texas, always impeccably dressed and surrounded by like-minded individuals. The posts projected an image of success and conformity, carefully cultivated to reinforce his status within his chosen circles.

On Twitter, Alan's posts and tweets echoed his disdain for "woke culture" and his grievances about the changes he perceived in society. His timeline was a testament to his unwavering adherence to traditional values and his resistance to any form of progress that challenged his worldview.

Abruptly, the phone's screen went black, plunging Alan into a momentary void. Then, a luminous green progress bar appeared with the word "Processing."

Alan felt an overwhelming heaviness settle upon him, as if the weight of his own prejudices and insecurities was pressing down upon his shoulders. His expensive suit and tie began to disintegrate piece by piece, unraveling until he was left in nothing but his designer underwear—stripped bare of his armor of privilege.

His head throbbed with a pulsating intensity, each throb a reminder of the internal conflict he had long suppressed. Instinctively, he began to massage his temples, seeking relief from the mounting pressure.

Memories of his upbringing in Texas as a gay man began to surface, intertwined with the ache in his head. The struggles, the fear of rejection, the compromises made to fit into a society that often felt hostile and unwelcoming—they all resurfaced, unbidden.

As Alan sat on the hotel bed, his initial chuckle was low and restrained, but it softened gradually as something stirred within him. Memories that had long been buried beneath layers of disdain and conformity began to resurface, bubbling up from the depths of his subconscious.

He remembered the streets of New York, where he had once walked as a boy, navigating the crowds and absorbing the vibrant, eclectic culture around him. He recalled the public school he attended, where the education was far from stellar but where he had discovered a deep passion for art and music. His hands, resting on his lap, began to move as if strumming an invisible guitar, fingers dancing over imaginary strings.

As these memories flooded back, a series of tattoos seemed to materialize on his skin, intricate designs that told stories of rebellion and creativity. His expression shifted subtly, his face transforming as more memories wove themselves into the fabric of his consciousness.

Gone was the rigid, uptight demeanor. Instead, a smile began to spread across his face—a genuine, inviting smile that revealed perfect teeth and softened his features. A beard and stubble started to grow on his jaw, framing a face that was becoming more handsome by the moment. His plain, average countenance seemed to rewind in time, settling into the visage of a 23-year-old with eyes that sparkled with newfound clarity and depth.

Those eyes, now piercing and intense, seemed to see through pretense and into the soul of anyone who met his gaze. Meanwhile, a pair of tight, skinny jeans began to hug his legs, muscles forming beneath his skin as if sculpted by his newfound sense of self. His feet, seemingly larger and more rugged, gave off a faint odor, a mix of Axe body spray and a distinct aroma of pot, hinting at a carefree lifestyle he had once shunned.

He chuckled again, this time with a sense of liberation and amusement, as he embraced the person he had buried deep inside—the young, spirited soul who had once roamed the streets of New York with a guitar in hand and dreams in his heart.

A chant began to echo in his head—a vivid memory from a time when he marched proudly in a women's march, waving a rainbow flag and chanting for gay rights. But as the memory replayed, something felt amiss. The edges of the memory blurred, and scenes of nervously asking a boy out on Grindr faded away, replaced by images of him standing alongside his LGBTQ+ friends as a staunch straight ally.

He recalled how he had tried to connect with other men on Grindr, attempting to fit into a mold that never quite felt right. Eventually, he had come to terms with his true identity and courageously came out to his friends as straight during his Senior year. The revelation had been met with unwavering support from his liberal and open-minded circle—they understood him, they celebrated him, and they embraced him.

With each passing moment, Alan's heart swelled with empathy, a newfound compassion that extended to every living creature. He vividly remembered adopting a strict vegan lifestyle, guided by his deepening respect for all beings and a growing awareness of environmental issues. His demeanor shifted from uptight to carefree, embracing a goofball nature that had long been suppressed.

In his mind's eye, Alan saw himself as he truly was—a person who respected others, who valued diversity, and who cherished the connections he had forged with people of all backgrounds and orientations. As this realization settled within him, a transformation swept over his physical form. A deep, dark brown tan enveloped his body, symbolizing a shedding of old identities and a rebirth into a new understanding of himself.

Gone was the rigid, buttoned-up exterior. In its place stood a man who radiated warmth and acceptance, embodying the principles of inclusivity and love that he had come to embrace. Alan's journey of self-discovery had led him not only to accept others but also to embrace his own authenticity with a newfound sense of joy and fulfillment.

As the deep, rich tan washed over Alan, memories flooded back with surprising clarity. He remembered being raised by his abuela in a cozy one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, surrounded by the vibrant hustle and bustle of the city. In this upbringing, Alan had embraced a total "straight softboy" persona, guided by his abuela's teachings to always show respect and kindness to women.

Over time, Alan had evolved into a hopeless romantic, yearning to find connection and love. He recalled his earnest attempts at dating women, only to face disappointment when they found him too sensitive or not masculine enough for their tastes. Despite these setbacks, Alan remained steadfast in his belief that treating women with respect and tenderness was paramount.

His heritage as a Mexican-American became a source of pride and identity. Alan cherished the traditions instilled by his abuela—family gatherings filled with delicious homemade food, lively music, and a strong work ethic. He spent his days working hard at his Tio's restaurant, learning the art of cooking and hospitality that defined his community.

Alan's path led him to NYU, where he earned a full scholarship in music production. It was here, amidst the creative energy of New York City, that he truly found his voice. Nights were spent with friends, drinking, smoking pot, and pouring his heart into love ballads and rock songs that reflected his romantic soul.

Alan's transformation began with a dull ache spreading throughout his body, as if every cell was undergoing a profound change. He looked down, startled to see fat dissolving from his frame, reshaping into lean muscle that glistened with a sheen of sweat. His once chubby, soft body morphed before his eyes, revealing a muscular physique that seemed sculpted by determination and resilience.

Standing in the dimly lit room, Alan leaned against the wall, crossing his muscular arms over a chest adorned with a tapestry of tattoos. Each inked design told a story—bold geometric patterns interwoven with intricate images of cultural symbolism. Against his warm olive skin, the tattoos pulsed with life, vibrant against the subdued lighting.

His arms, now taut with sinewy muscles, flexed subtly as he shifted his weight. Veins traced their way along his forearms, a testament to the strength that lay beneath his bronzed complexion. Faded scars crisscrossed his skin, souvenirs of past battles that added to his rugged charm and hinted at a life fully lived.

The tattoos continued their journey across his broad chest, weaving around his collarbones and down towards his abdomen. Each motif seemed to flow seamlessly, enhancing the contours of his muscular physique and highlighting his newfound physical strength.

Alan's face, framed by tousled waves of grungy hair, bore the rugged lines of a man who had weathered storms. His jawline was strong and defined, accentuated by a hint of stubble that added to his masculine allure. Dark eyes, intense and piercing, scanned the room with a mix of confidence and aloofness, commanding attention with their magnetic gaze. As pulled out his phone trying to find the perfect--mate? girlfriend? lover? He wasn't sure.

Alan stumbled upon a profile that immediately caught his eye. Her name was Luna, and her bio read "Afro-Latina feminist artist and activist." Her feed was filled with powerful portraits of women from diverse backgrounds, along with thoughtful captions about intersectional feminism and social justice issues.

Luna's profile picture showed her standing confidently in front of a mural she had painted - it depicted a group of strong, empowered women holding hands across different races and cultures. Alan couldn't help but feel drawn to this incredible woman who shared so many of his values and passions. He liked every one of her posts, hoping she would notice him amidst the thousands of other followers admiring her work.

Alan's direct messages to Luna were carefully crafted, expressing his admiration for her work and aligning himself with her beliefs. He shared his own journey of self-discovery and transformation, mentioning how inspired he was by her art and activism. In response, Luna messaged back warmly but cautiously, appreciating the genuine connection they seemed to share.

As they arranged to meet in the park for a casual get-together, Alan brought along his guitar as a sign of goodwill - he hoped it would help break the ice between them. When he spotted Luna from afar underneath one of the trees, she was engrossed in her phone screen; unphased by anything else around her.

He strummed gently on his guitar strings as he approached closer; composing an impromptu love song specifically dedicated just for this moment…his heart pounding rapidly inside his chest with every word sung out loud: "Your eyes are like stars that guide my way / Through this chaotic world full of fray / And I swear upon everything holy / That you hold all secrets deep inside your soul."

His voice rang through clear as day across grassy fields while captivating every single bird chirping nearby too – making sure not one detail escaped unnoticed during such intimate moments shared together under sunny skies above them both! However much passion could be heard within each syllable uttered by Alan, there came another reaction quite unexpected from our fiercely independent femme fatale before him. Luna just gave a slight eye roll followed closely behind some sarcastic comment about how "this crap is kinda pathetic"

As Luna rolled her eyes at Alan's love song, he looked at her with puppy dog eyes filled with hope and longing. He wiped the sweat from his face using his shirt, revealing a muscular physique that caught Luna off guard. The sudden glimpse of masculinity ignited a spark within her, and she found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn't explain.

With each passing moment spent locked in an intense embrace, their passion grew stronger until they could barely contain themselves anymore. Their lips met once more as their tongues danced together hungrily; exploring every crevice of each other's mouths while their bodies pressed tightly against one another.

As Luna's lips found his ear and whispered "Santiago...Santiago...I want to fuck your brains out you little devil" Alan (now known as Santiago) couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the intensity of this moment. He blinked an suddenly he was in bed with Luna, in his room in a shitty, four-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn he shared with 5 other guys. His mind was clouded with desire, lust taking over any remnants of rational thought left behind after their heated encounter in the park earlier today.

Santiago grabbed onto Luna forcefully yet tenderly; his rough hands contrasting against her soft skin like sandpaper against velvet. The room reeked of marijuana smoke - a hazy veil hanging above them both as if suspended between reality and some sort of twisted fantasy world created solely for their pleasure alone! On the walls were posters featuring iconic Mexican artists like Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera; their bold brushstrokes providing an appropriate backdrop for these two passionate souls engaging in unbridled passion beneath dimly lit lights cast from an old Edison bulb dangling precariously above them…

Luna arched her back while crying out loud - signaling for more intensity which only served to fuel Santiago's fire burning inside him even brighter than before… He slammed into her harder than ever before, driving deep into places where no man had gone before – igniting sparks that illuminated not just darkness surrounding them but also lighting up whatever remained untouchable deep within themselves previously hidden away due fear or uncertainty alone! This raw animalistic fury carried on relentlessly until both were left breathless…and satisfied beyond measure…as if experiencing true love at first sight all over again.

As Luna's breasts bounced rhythmically against Santiago's chest, he couldn't help but feel a surge of masculine pride wash over him. "And you are the most beautiful lover."he whispered into her ear, his voice hoarse from passion.

Luna laughed softly before replying, "And you are---you are a good fuck Santi" Her words sent shivers down his spine - a validation that only served to fuel his desire even further.

Santiago passed out soon afterward, exhausted from their intense lovemaking session earlier in the evening. When he awoke sometime later with an empty bed beside him and a faint trace of marijuana lingering in the air around him…he lit up another joint for himself and sank back into bed with contentment etched across every feature on his face – knowing full well that while keeping hold onto such fiery tempers might prove difficult at times…at least when it came to pleasing women like Luna? Well…that part wasn't so hard after all!

#white to latino tf #male tf #gay to straight #transformation #jock tf #dumber #con to lib tf #gay to straight ally tf #race change

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molsno · 2 years

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I've already written about why male socialization is a myth that needs to be discarded, but in the responses to those posts, I sometimes find tme trans people who concede that yes, the concept of male socialization should be rejected, but refuse to let go of their own supposed female socialization. this always makes me quite reasonably angry, for two reasons:

I dislike it when people hijack my posts about transmisogyny to talk about things that aren't transmisogyny.

rejecting male socialization but embracing female socialization is still innately transmisogynistic.

you might find yourself wondering how that second point could possibly be true. it's true for a lot of reasons, and I'll explain to the best of my ability.

"female socialization" is the idea that people who were assigned female at birth undergo a universal experience of girlhood that stays with them the rest of their lives.

right off the bat, this concept raises alarm bells. first, it is a bold (and horribly incorrect) assertion to claim that there is any universal experience of girlhood that is shared by all people who were afab. what exactly constitutes girlhood varies greatly based on culture, time period, race, class, sexual orientation, and many, many other factors. disregarding transness for a moment, can you really say that, for example, white women and black women in modern day america, even with all else being equal, are socialized in the same way? the differences in "socialization" only become more stark the fewer commonalities two given people have. to give another example, a white gay trans man born in 2001 to an upper middle class family in a progressive city in the north is going to have a very different life than a cis straight mexican woman born in 1952 to an impoverished family and risked her life immigrating to the us in the deep south. can you really say anything meaningful about the "female socialization" that these two supposedly have in common? I think that b. binaohan said it best in "decolonizing trans/gender 101":

Then in a singular sense we most certainly cannot talk about 'male socialization' or 'female socialization' as things that exist. We can only talk about 'male socialization**s**' and 'female socialization**s**'. For if we take the multiplicity of identity seriously, as we must, then we are socialized as a whole person based on the nexus of the parts of our identity and our axes of oppression. ... Indeed, it gets complex enough that we could assert, easily, that each individual is socialized in unique ways that cannot be assumed true of any other person, since no one else shares our **exact** context. Not even my sister was socialized in the same way that I was.

and while I could just leave it at that and tell you to read the rest of their book (which you should), it wouldn't sit right with me if I just debunked the concept without explaining exactly why it's transmisogynistic at its core.

now, I should preface this by saying that I believe trans people have a right to identify however they want, and I think that trans people deserve the space to talk about their lives before transition without facing judgment. there are tme trans people who consider themselves women and there are trans men who don't consider themselves women at all but nonetheless have a lot of negative experiences with being expected to conform to womanhood. I don't want to deprive these people of the ability to talk about their life experiences. however, I do want them to keep in mind a few things.

first of all, "female socialization" is terf rhetoric. terfs talk all the time about how womanhood is inherently traumatic, which they regularly use as a talking point to convince trans men to detransition and join their side. when your whole ideology hinges on the belief that having been afab predestines you to a life of suffering, who is a better target to indoctrinate than trans people for whom being expected to conform to womanhood was a major source of trauma and dysphoria? the myth of female socialization is precisely why there are detransitioners in the terf movement who vehemently oppose trans rights.

that's why when tme trans people talk about having undergone female socialization, it's almost always steeped in the underlying implication that womanhood is an innately negative experience. even if they don't buy into the biological determinism central to radical feminism, that implication is still present. because, you see, womanhood can still be innately negative because the result of being viewed as and expected to be a woman is that you are inundated with misogyny.

that right there is why clinging to the notion of female socialization is transmisogynistic. it allows tme trans people, many of whom don't even consider themselves women, to position themselves as experts who understand womanhood and misogyny better than any trans woman ever could. that's why I find it disingenuous when a tme trans person claims to reject male socialization but still considers themself as having undergone female socialization; how could they possibly benefit from doing so, other than by claiming to be more oppressed than trans women, by virtue of supposedly experiencing more misogyny?

by being viewed as more oppressed than trans women on the basis of female socialization, they gain access to "women's only" spaces that trans women are denied access to. their voices are given priority in discussions about gendered oppression. people more readily view them as the victims when they come into interpersonal conflict with trans women. they become incapable of perpetrating transmisogyny on the basis of being the "more oppressed" category of trans people.

how exactly could such a person not be transmisogynistic, though? if they believe that gendered socialization is a valid and universal truth that one can never escape from, then what does it even mean for them to reject the concept of male socialization? if they were to actually, vehemently reject it, then they would no longer be able to leverage their own "female socialization" to imply that trans women aren't real, genuine women on account of not having experienced it. and make no mistake - there are very few tme trans people who subscribe to the myth of gendered socialization that even claim to reject male socialization. most of the time, they're very clear about their beliefs that trans women have some "masculine energy" that we can never truly get rid of after having undergone a lifetime of being expected to conform to manhood. and as a result, they continue to treat trans women as dangerous oppressors.

that's why gendered socialization as a concept needs to be abandoned wholesale. there's nothing wrong with talking about your experiences as a trans person, but giving any validity to this vile terf rhetoric always harms trans women, just like it was intended to do from its very inception.

#txt #transmisogyny #my writing #1k

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dartxo · 9 months

Text

"Conchero"

2021

Concheros are Mexican traditional dancers with heavy Mesoamerican influence. They are sometimes refered to "Aztec dancers", though the dance is not strictly speaking Aztec or indigenous. It's not uncommon to find them in public squares and parks anywhere in Mexico.

#conchero #figure drawing #anatomy study #portrait #no shirt #gay #gay art #homoerotic art #mexico #mexican culture #realism #photoshop #art #artists on tumblr #mexican artist #autistic artist #dartxo #men of color #shirtless

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what-even-is-thiss · 11 months

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What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

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There’s whole subsets of philosophy and science dedicated to this sort of thing, dude. If you’re looking for one particular answer that applies universally to all gay men or all of one orientation or gender etc that’s not useful and if you insist upon getting that one particular answer you come across as dangerously ignorant.

Asking what it is that makes someone gay is a bit like asking “What’s an American?” or “What’s a country?”

At first they seem like straightforward questions but once you dig even a bit below the surface you’ll find that everyone and every place and every situation has a different answer. Is the EU a country? Is India? Is Idaho? Why? Why is a Mexican an American in Spanish but not in English? Spanish speakers will be insulted if you say they’re not American but Canadians will be insulted if you say they are. And Americans as in persons and from the United States of America aren’t as clear cut a group as that quick little definition I gave you would suggest. Why would someone living in the US for over a decade not consider themselves an American? Why would someone who just moved here insist they are American? Is it citizenship that makes you American? The continent you live on? How do you draw lines between continents? At what point do you identify more with your adopted country than the one you were born in?

Being gay is similarly complicated. What makes you gay? Your gender? Your attraction? Who you’d prefer to marry? Who you’d prefer to have sex with? Is gay a political position? Does it mean you’re happy? Is it a girl’s name? A surname? Is it only for men? Is it also for women? Is it a slur? Is it a reclaimed slur? Is it just a word? Where are you in time? What language are you speaking? Are you personally more attracted to genitals or hands or smells or the whole package? Can you sometimes fall for someone not typically your type? Is it a personality thing? How much of your attraction is influenced by your genetics, the balance of hormones in your parent’s womb, your society, your upbringing, your friends?

The only available answer is a non-answer because sexual orientation isn’t an arithmetic question. There’s no A+B=C that can be applied universally to all people who identify with a certain term. Any more than one singular definition can be given to a country, a gender, a continent. There’s some things that just don’t have one solid iron clad definition and anyone attempting to give them one typically has an agenda.

Anon, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and hope that you’re not here attempting to cause trouble and that you’re genuinely curious. But if you’re here attempting to set up bait, please reconsider how you think about definitions and queer identities and identity more broadly.

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