#mexican gay culture

[happysoulobservation]

[angelx1992]

[sergeifyodorov]

you truly understand the thing that makes 1634 so good and that is auston’s REAL gay pining i’ll love you forever mitch while mitch is like “yeah haha i’m in love with you😂” <- sincere yet not quite. but causals view their dynamic with those roles switched which makes for a less interesting pairing

I think a lot of people look at Auston's more overt masculinity (which mind you is done with an intentional nod at the camera -- earrings, pornstache, bright colours, sheer shirts -- ken-doll gay-porn butch-boy masc) and confuse that with the more stereotypically hockey casually-homoerotic out-of-touch way of looking at things ... all the while ONE of these two grew up white and Torontonian in the very socially regimented Canadian junior hockey system and it wasn't him!!!

[luesmainblog]

what a wonderful day to remember that there are real actual people in the world who fit your "harmful stereotypes" to a T and they deserve safety, love, respect as human beings, and YES, representation, because even the most stereotypical mother fucker has more going on in their life than just that. a LOVELY day to remember that your dislike of stereotypes should be based in a lack of variety and a watering down of human experience or an active distaste for those being shown, not your own personal distaste of Those People. a MARVELOUS day to consider that many of the stereotypes which are held up as Degenerates who must be Erased by the bigots are, in fact, people we should be protecting and empowering, and that you should NOT BE AGREEING WITH THE BIGOTS ABOUT THEM NEEDING TO GO AWAY.

[gaybaseball-fan]

I’ve had half-Mexican friends for decades. I decided to include their community in my work a few times!

[bitter69uk]

Born on this day ninety years ago: glamorous and tempestuous Mexican diva and kitsch icon Irma Serrano (née Irma Consuelo Cielo Serrano Castro, 9 December 1933 - 1 March 2023). Nicknamed La Tigresa, the showgirl turned impassioned ranchera singer, actress (she starred opposite Mexican wrestler Santo in Santo contra los Zombies (aka Santo versus the Zombies) in 1961), mistress of (married) Mexican president Gustavo Diaz Ordaz, businesswoman, extreme plastic surgery enthusiast, TV personality and left-wing politician was a scandalous fixture in Mexican tabloids for over five decades. In fact, Serrano continued freaking out the squares into old age (she married a 29-year-old man aged 71 – get it, girl!). See Serrano in full cry here.

[universalsatan]

… 😶

[possesseddesiress]

Between us (English Version)

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Between us (English version)

Iker and Yuki were very close, good friends. They had grown up together, being friends from a very early age, even though each one belonged to a different culture, they had gotten along well from the first minute they met. And from there, they did everything together, they never left each other's side.

Even though time would go by and they would change; by the time they reached adolescence, Iker started working out until he got a big and defined body, he was very muscular and a big hit with the girls.

On the other hand, Yuki remained small, thin, a bit effeminate, discovered a passion for fashion and identified as gay.

But despite those differences, they remained friends. They graduated, and chose the same university, Iker started studying engineering while Yuki majored in fashion, then they managed to rent an apartment in one of the dorms to be together.

Iker sometimes asked Yuki for help to dress better and surprise girls, Yuki to gain more muscle. Always helping each other.

That afternoon, they were both in a museum, it was their “afternoon together”, an occasion they set aside once a week to meet and spend time together away from everyday life and school.

— It's an interesting exhibition, isn't it? – Yuki murmured as they moved through the area of ancient cultures. Some sculptures, remains of ruins, contraptions.

— Yes, there are interesting things – Iker advanced next to him, between them there was a difference of at least 30 cm in height. Iker was almost two meters tall while Yuki was only 1.65 cm tall. And nothing to say about the difference between their musculatures or even their styles of dress, the Mexican wore more sporty styles while the Asian loved bright colors and more daring styles.

They ended up arriving at a remote area of the museum, still unfinished. Apparently there was no one watching, so Iker pushed aside a pair of curtains towards an exhibit in progress.

— I don't think we should do that – the smaller and more timid Yuki muttered.

— Come on, it's something new. Aren't you excited?

Yuki was silent for a while until she finally let out a sigh, nodding.

— Ok... Let's go.

They crossed the threshold before the bigger one dropped the cloth, the room was dimly lit, there were some pots, instruments and remains of rocks, nothing interesting or new. Until Iker seemed to notice something.

— Look at that – the brunet smiled as he saw something in the center of the room. It was some kind of mirror, its frame was made of stone, it looked quite old.

Although that wasn't the only thing special about it, it was also a kind of double mirror, but it was translucent in a very faint way. You could see your reflection and at the same time, barely see the other side.

The guys, excited by this discovery, stood in front of the mirror, each on one side. They looked at it curiously before they began to move in circles, examining.

— Wow... Where do you think it's from?

— No idea, but it looks ancient, probably one of the first cultures – Iker murmured.

— Is that so? How smart you are for studying engineering – Yuki joked with him.

— Excuse me, Mr. designer, maybe this is too much for your brain.

The guys began to joke with each other, though in a way the tone of the jokes began to rise.

—Surely you couldn't stand a day in my shoes – Yuki sentenced while looking at him with a mocking smile.

— Rather you couldn't be in mine, your manicure would be ruined by taking one of my weights.

— And your clumsy hands would ruin my designs.

— You wouldn't even know how to flirt with a girl.

— And you'd be scared to mess with another man.

Unnoticed, the mirror seemed to become charged with a very dim light.

— Surely you couldn't be in my body.

Iker whispered with narrowed eyes.

— You wouldn't last a week in mine.

Unnoticed by the boys. An energy shot out from under the mirror towards both of their feet. After that, they both walked out of the room as if nothing had happened.

And the rest of the day went on as normal, they went back to their room, had dinner, chatted for a while until they went to sleep.

In the night was when the “strange” happened. The same energy came out of their bodies and intertwined with each other, their energies were sucked and deposited into each other's body until they faded away.

The next morning, the first to wake up was Yuki. He felt strange from the first moment he opened his eyes, heavier? Had he eaten too much last night? He sat up in bed, sleepy and not seeing around him properly; he rubbed his face.

And then he felt it. He opened his eyes like plates noticing his huge brown hands, he looked around noticing that he was in Iker's room and not his own, it was filled with some sports and car posters, his weights on the floor and even the scent was totally his.

— Uh, uh... What is this?

He mumbled looking down at his pecs, weighing them, swallowing saliva. He felt huge, heavy, even silly.

Nothing compared to his old body, he was so thin and small, and overnight he went from being like this to this.

— This is wrong, this is wrong...

As he was thinking about it, he heard a familiar scream. He immediately got up to go to his room, where he saw his old body tangled in the sheets with a confused expression.

— What did you do, Yuki!? – he heard his former body say in an Asian accent. Just the way he used to talk.

He watched how he touched his body, his slender arms, her soft face, even how he took his tresses to observe them absorbed.

— Iker? – He said in her new deep voice.

— Who else would it be, silly!!!?

It was strange to see Yuki's body act like that, he was always reserved, quiet, didn't shout about almost anything. But now, it was clearly someone else who had command of his body.

The new Yuki stood up, examining himself from head to toe with a hint of disgust in his expression.

— Dude, my muscles are gone! – He could only see his thin outline. Palpating his chest to find something flat, he also touched his hips, noticing that there was the most amount of muscle there as well as on his thighs – Why does your body look like a girl's!!!?

— Shut up! Respect, I look like a Gorilla!

The New Mexican muttered.

He observed himself again in front of his friend this time, stroking his arms. He even sniffed slightly.

— Damn... Not bad.

He murmured smiling.

— Hey! Don't just take over my body like that!

— Don't you like it? Because your new body seems to say otherwise.

And indeed, it did. The new Yuki had an issue down there “down below”, he immediately covered himself with his hand, his face flushed.

— It's not my fault, it's your body!

—Well, that's weird. I don't feel like I'm lusting after some girl or something straight like that.

A smug smile appeared on her face as she stared at him.

— Get out of here!

Iker punched his former body in the arm, Yuki just let out a couple of laughs as he left the room. He returned to the room which corresponded to his body, still not believing that the two had swapped.

He had always felt comfortable being small, effeminate, very happy in his body.

But now... he felt different. Masculine, powerful, imposing. He peeked into his friend's closet, his clothes were spandex, sweatpants, compression shirts, some plaid shirts, all a far cry from his typical tops or stylish t-shirts.

He took one of the compression shirts to put it on, and strangely discovered a taste he experienced for the first time: how tight it felt.

He brought his hands back to his pecs, enjoying how wide and big they felt, he was playing with them when Iker walked in.

— Stop playing with them, they're not balls.

—They look like it.

Yuki paid attention to his old body, noticing the clothes he was wearing.

—Wow...

— Don't say anything.

The old Iker muttered a bit annoyed, now he was wearing quite “stylish” clothes, a white shirt made of what seemed to be silk, a neat pair of pants and a golden chain.

Not at all similar to what he would wear being himself, so he felt like a sort of “Barbie Girl”: with curls, nice clothes, smooth skin and perfume. He didn't even know how he ended up getting dressed up like that, it was like going into automatic mode.

— What now? – He muttered moodily.

— What do you mean, what now? – Yuki raised her eyebrow.

— Yeah. Are we going to go to our classes, lock ourselves in until we figure out how to solve this?

The opposite one was thoughtful, then he swallowed saliva as he remembered something.

— No, no... I can't skip today.

— What? Why?

— I have a very important presentation today, me lleva la chingada – he said in a perfect Mexican accent. Which stunned both of them. The silence was awkward until Yuki spoke again – It's about my dressmaking subject, I have to present my final project.

— The dress you've been working on for weeks?

— Yes, yes. It's my final project, it's 100% of the grade.

The now huge boy sat up in bed, overwhelmed. The remaining one came over to try to comfort him.

— Then I'll go in your place.

— You don't know anything about dresses, the only thing you know is how to take them off – he muttered overwhelmed.

— Hey, don't overdo it. I'm not as dumb as you think. Besides, if this happened – Iker pointed to his clothes – Don't you think I can manage to present your project?

They looked at each other for a while, to which the now dark-haired man let out a resigned sigh.

— All right, I'll trust you.

They both ended up leaving the apartment. Yuki heading to the engineering department while Iker to the design department, making a promise to try to be as similar to their new bodies as possible. Iker didn't want to see his body acting feminine, nor did Yuki want to see hers acting like a guy with no brain cells.

Iker advanced through the corridors, still getting used to feeling small, he felt that his gait had even changed, as if he now “floated”, before he felt that his steps echoed everywhere because of his musculature, but now, he was as agile as a feather.

He was turning the corner towards the living room, he had about 15 minutes to spare to get there. When he ran into a guy.

— Hi, Yuki – a muscular guy seemed to stop him in his tracks.

— Hi, Adam – it was hard for him not to be surprised when he recognized the boy's name.

— How are you? You didn't call me last night – the opposite gently closed the distance while staring at him with a flirtatious smile.

— I was... busy – he whispered as he watched him approach, but he seemed to be petrified. He wanted to move but couldn't, he just watched him getting closer and closer.

— It's a pity... – Iker felt a series of things seeing that boy flirting with him exactly as he used to do with girls – I really missed your company – he murmured, starting to caress his curls.

And when he least expected it. He kissed him.

For a second he felt disgusted to feel another man kissing him, but the more the seconds passed, it felt so natural...

He kissed him at a slow start, but he wanted more, he wanted more, he needed more. Iker turned up the intensity of the kisses, almost occupying his tongue as he held the guy against himself.

— Wow, someone looks excited. What's wrong? You look different today.

— Nothing – he mumbled with a silly grin on his face – I guess it's a new day.

They chatted for a while, kissed some more and he even liked the feeling when Adam grabbed him by the waist to hold on to him.

He ended up going into Yuki's classroom, and finally presented his project. It was as if his knowledge in engineering had been replaced by knowledge in fashion, tailoring, dressmaking, he knew exactly what fabric his friend had used, the type of closure, embossing, the falls. He had even achieved a perfect grade in that exhibition.

On the other hand, Yuki was anxiously sitting in his classroom, until a couple of Iker's friends arrived.

— What's up, bro? – the typical stereotypical brainless jock approached him, surrounded by at least 3 other guys just like him.

Yuki was silent for a microsecond before a strange outburst came from him.

— Bro! How are you?

He stood up, bumped fists with the guy and even his pectorals with each other. He never thought he would do anything so... Masculine.

And he even did it with the other three, as if it was something natural in him. He talked to them, and a series of sports knowledge, Iker's conquests, and more topics outside of him, came naturally out of his mouth, in addition to an extremely masculine personality where most of the vocabulary was based on: “Bro”.

— And today you will see Monica?

His mind immediately went into action, apparently Iker had forgotten to mention that he had a date today.

— Yep, bro – he nodded – We'll go for a coffee in an hour.

He was nervous inside himself, what would he do when he was with her? Would he feel attraction? Would he flirt with her? What if they ended up entangled in...?

No, no. He tried not to think about it. His class moved quickly. He had always been bad at math, but now he seemed to have mastered the subject from top to bottom, even complex physics topics, he knew it all.

His subject was over, and apparently the appointment he had pending was five minutes away.

— Good luck, bro! Monica certainly is a good catch, she has good “attributes” – the guys laughed to each other to leave the room and leave him alone.

Yuki felt overwhelmed, but he knew that this was something important for Iker, so he was forced to go. He ended up arriving at the cafe and saw the girl waiting for him: red-haired, slim, she was quite cute.

The boy didn't feel... anything, though. He admired her beauty, no doubt, but he didn't feel attracted.

He sat in the chair across from her and they both began to talk.

For hours.

Strangely, Yuki felt a great friendship with the girl, as if the chemistry between them flowed naturally.

— You're so funny, Iker! I thought you'd be an airhead like all your friends.

— Well, that's me, I guess – he smiled slightly. His heart was beating fast, what if she was already trying to kiss him? He wasn't feeling any heterosexual “urges” in Iker's body. That was worrying him, he had felt an automatic mode with his friends, with his subjects and knowledge? So why wasn't it happening now?

— I'm glad you're like that. But... I think we've been getting along really well and I don't want to ruin that, would you rather we stayed friends? – the girl smiled softly. And that was quite a relief for him. Yuki nodded.

— I'd love to.

They chatted for a while more until they said goodbye. Yuki thought about going back home but he felt anxious, like he will need something to be well, so he thought about going to the gym. He knew where Iker went to work out, so he immediately set off.

And again on autopilot he began to exercise, loving the way he felt his muscles pumping, how they swelled and became big as they flexed. How much he could carry!

Even how stinky his body was starting to get, how the sweat soaked into his clothes to make them damp and clingy. He felt ecstatic, lost in all those sensations.

He was powerful, big, huge, his pecs were so fat and thick! What could he say about his arms, they were fantastic without a doubt!

He smiled egocentrically, seeing himself through the reflection. There was hardly anyone in the gym, so he fearlessly lifted his armpit to start sniffing it, losing himself in his senses.

— Pff... How stinky... – he muttered. He stuck out his tongue, starting to lick himself, enjoying both the aroma and the taste of his sweat. He caressed his pectorals, he knew that partly all that acting was wrong, that was the body of Iker, his best friend.

But geez... He wasn't blind. He knew what a great catch Iker was even if he wasn't gay. But he wouldn't say it out loud in front of him, much less that he'd had more than one dream involving him.

And now he had him all to himself.

He continued with that exploration session until he was finally bored. He picked up his things and left in the direction of the apartment.

Where Iker had a “curious” moment as well. His rest of the day had been relaxed, taking classes, talking with Yuki's friends.

He discovered how interesting he now found fashion, pop music and things that although he didn't dislike, he didn't find so relevant either.

He even took a few “cute” pictures throughout the day, he was liking the feeling of being this small.

Even how other men saw him, besides the clear fact that he had made out with Adam even walking out of class.

He felt an urge that seemed born. He'd seen a few girls, even Yuki's friends, several of them he found pretty and desirable in more ways than one when he was himself, but now. He didn't pay even the slightest attention to the areas he used to look at when it came to a girl.

On the contrary, now he did that with guys: he noticed their pecs, their big muscles, their biceps. He had seen a pretty muscular guy in shorts and a tank top and almost went crazy right there.

When he got home, he found the apartment completely alone, although he didn't really care, he went into his new room right away to check his closet.

And started trying on clothes. He admired Yuki's style, some of his outfits looked cute, but he had never thought of wearing something like that.

But now he was wearing each one of his outfits, trying different tops, sweaters, tight pants, he even ventured to try Yuki's underwear, some of them were really revealing...

But he liked the silhouette what his body was adopting now, how her hips or her buttocks looked. The more he went through his closet and drawers, he ended up finding something: a toy.

It looked elongated, somewhat thick. He had never occupied something like that, if another kind of toys a little more in line with his sexuality, since he had never thought of putting something “in there”.

But now he felt an urge, too strong to ignore, it was like that urge to exercise that he had being him.

He lay back on the bed, carefully settled the toy against his entrance and gently let it go. He let out a sigh and a confused gasp at the sensation it gave; he thought it would hurt.

But it seemed like Yuki already had experience with it when he noticed how he managed to enter without any problems.

Iker almost screamed at the top of his lungs when he finally found that sensitive spot, he almost seemed to see stars. He immediately began to pound the area like crazy, pulling the tool in and out, he was anxiously moving against the bed, sweating and with a flushed face.

It was all chaos, he lost complete track of his surroundings, and that's why he didn't even notice that Yuki had come home.

Yuki was about to say hello out loud when he heard noises coming from her room, he didn't even take the moment to listen anymore, he knew exactly what was going on.

His heart pounding with excitement as he took step after step towards the open door of his room, he peeked his head out. And then he saw him:

His body moving against the sheets, tangled at his feet and no clothes on him, his hands wrapped around his manhood, the toy skewered. His white skin filled with beads of sweat, the scent alone that permeated the entire room...

It was like activating something inside him.

— Y-Yuki! – Iker opened his eyes in fright when he felt the hands of his opponent against his body and felt him on top of him.

— Shhh...

— I-it's n-it's not what it looks like, I-I...

— Save it.

Yuki muttered gravely, he grabbed his former body's hips to feel his skin, which made Iker let out a mute gasp.

— W-wait. W-what w-what are you w-what are you doing?

The former Mexican closed his eyes as he enjoyed the sensation of the huge brown hands resting on him.

— I told you... I don't feel anything straight in this body.

And with that, he stamped his now lips with his old ones, enjoying the unbridled sensation of kissing and touching between the two.

He got rid as best he could of everything that was in his way so that they were skin against skin. He kept kissing him, feeling Iker's nervous hands work their way down his pecs, which he played with like a fool, pressing the reliefs.

Yuki grabbed the toy to pull it out all at once, which caused a yelp from Iker.

— W-what do you plan to do?

—Shhh... Let yourself go.

He mused until he skewered his manhood into him all at once, this caused Iker to roll his eyes with a goofy grin, almost as if his brain cells were melting. It was a racket, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the gasps and grunts, the grinding of wood, the slender legs of Yuki's original body wrapped around Iker's thick hips.

— Ah!

— Tell me Iker.

— W-what?

— Tell me Iker, Yuki.

The Mexican hesitated a moment to answer, though his brain was fucked at that point.

— Yes, Iker! Yes!

The two of them stayed like that for almost the whole night, until they woke up hugging each other.

They didn't even think about how to solve that "problem", they both felt comfortable as they were, there was no need to go back to being who they were.

Iker settled completely into being Yuki. He became an even better designer, hung out with his friends, enjoyed his new career and all the opportunities in it.

Yuki also became completely comfortable with being Iker. He loved exercise, sports, spending time with his new friends, even if they were a bit “dorky” from what he was used to.

And even better, he enjoyed his new boyfriend. Now everything was as it should be, just between them.

———

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

———

[urbanangelinabubble]

I'll be honest, as a queer mexican man the way y'all talk about Eddie Diaz really pisses me off. You lot refuse to the see real complexity in him and admit he has done a lot of shitty things.

I think you've created this story of what you want him to be in your head where he is an eternal victim despite being a grown man and it doesn't do the character any favors.

I think you love the surfice level exploration of "latino culture" (whatever the fuck that means) he represents because he is the epitomy of "the good latino" propagandist figure. The USA army veteran hero, the one who isn't misogynist because he grew up in the US, the one who is brave enough to detach from his overbearing parents, the skeptic who rejects and even mocks the esoteric parts of his family's culture. The one with aspirations to be a model citizen and a "hero" to his son. Throws a couple of spanish words here and there, looks kind of brown but white enough for most demographics to find him hot.

He is comfortable to you.

I think y'all cling until your last breath to the posibility of him being secretly gay because you think if he had internalized homophobia this whole time then you can justify everything.

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

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.

[gaybaseball-fan]

[missempanada]

10 random facts about Spain you might wanna know for your fan work

My Hetalia hyperfixation came back this 2025 and it's stronger than ever. So to celebrate, I decided to make this post to share with you a little bit of real contemporary Spanish culture and to debunk some stereotypes. If you're writing or creating art about Spain this might help you add some details that will make the character, as well as his relationships with other nations, feel more authentic.

#1. We have two surnames, not a compound one (so it's "Fernández Carriedo", not "Fernandez-Carriedo"). I explained how that works in a post some years ago.

#2. We don't really drink sangría when we go to bars. It's considered a thing for tourists, especially considering how much they can charge you for it. Instead of that, we drink tinto de verano which is a mixture of red wine and either sparkling water or sparkling lemonade (usually the second one). When we do drink sangría, it's usually at a house or student delegation party and the methods we use to prepare it are usually not... very clean or sophisticated. It’s usually just cheap wine mixed with soda, with some chopped fruits thrown in, and it’s often made in a large plastic tub or basin without much concern for presentation or hygiene.

#3. Likewise, the dish that we like the most isn't paella, but tortilla de patatas. You'll find a plate of tortilla in every household when it's time to watch a football match, celebrate a birthday or watch the Eurovision grand final. Also, the only thing this tortilla has in common with the Mexican one is the name.

#4. The olive oil stereotype is way more accurate than the tomato one. We put olive oil in everything. Though if you wanna combine both stereotypes, most Spaniards love to have a toast with tomato pulp, olive oil and salt, either as breakfast or as a snack. The name and preparation of this toast can have slight variatons from region to region.

#5. Most Spaniards don't like bullfighting and even advocate for it to be banned. According to this survey, only 24% of Spaniards like bullfighting and it's usually those amongst the older generations. We usually consider the bullfighter stereotype to be offensive but we also think the imaginery slays (no pun intended) with fashion designers such as Palomo Spain using it in their works (this is the costume he designed for our entry in Eurovision 2022). It's kind of contradicting so take this information as you will. But basically: killing bulls, NO; pretty and shiny costumes, YES.

#6. According to a survey, Portugal (#1) and Italy (#2) are the two countries most liked by Spaniards. According to another survey, those two countries along with Greece would be the ones we'd be the most willing to help in case of a crisis. Can't tell if it's reciprocated, but according to every Spanish student's Erasmus experience ever I would say yes! (If you're not European and don't know what Erasmus is, look it up. Might be useful for a college AU). Also, there seems to be a rise in the idea of Mediterranean/southern European/PIGS pride among youths of any political inclination, often making memes like this one, which may or may not be related to the data I just provided. I'd say we consider the Portuguese to be our siblings, Italians to be our cousins and Greeks to be our distant cousins.

#7. The "th" sound in the neutral European Spanish dialect (the one you hear in movies and shows) isn't a lisp, but a phenomenon linguists call diferenciación. If anyone wants me to explain this in detail, I'll gladly make a separate post about it. If you don't know how it works I suggest you don't use it in fics and stuff because we will point and laugh at you. Especially considering some provinces in Spain only pronounce the S sound, just like Latin Americans.

#8. Though Enrique Iglesias is great, he's not the most popular singer in Spain at the moment, especially since he's retired from music. Spanish girls and gays usually listen to Rosalía, Ana Mena, Lola Índigo or Belén Aguilera, amongst others. Straight people usually listen to Quevedo (ew). David Bisbal was very big in the 2000s and he's still universally loved by all, whether we actually like his music or see him as a living meme. Collaborations with Latin American artists (examples 1, 2, 3) are also very popular and collaborations with Italian artists are becoming increasingly popular (examples 1, 2, 3). I have a playlist of Spanish pop artists (mostly women) that you can check here. If your fic or artwork is set on the 20th Century, you might wanna check this playlist instead. And here's another one for Spanish classical composers.

#9. Doraemon and Crayon Shin Chan are a cultural staple amongst Spaniards raised in the late 90s-2000s-early 2010s. So much so, that there's even an episode of Crayon Shin Chan in which the Nohara family goes to Spain on vacation. I've bonded with Japanese people over this lol

#10. We typically don't use the word "gringo" to refer to USAmericans (though it's becoming more popular now since younger generations are more used to hearing Latin American slang because of both the Internet and recent migrations), we use "guiri" instead. This word is used to describe people who are whiter than us, for lack of a better explanation. So, basically, Central Europeans + Nordics + Brits + USAmericans + Canadians. Like most words in Spanish, it can be considered either a neutral descriptor or a pejorative term depending on the context and intonation. For example, if a Spaniard has an English or German partner, they may call them "mi guiri" (my guiri) as a light-hearted tease. However, if we're talking about drunk English tourists jumping from balconies... then yes, it's definitely pejorative.

I'd love it if anyone else in the fandom does this with facts about their country because I love learning new things about other cultures and peoples. So if you write a post like this, please tag me so I can read it! Also if you want me to confirm or debunk any stereotype let me know and I'll do it in the comments.

Bonus fun fact: Spain is the gayest country in Europe (based on the percentage of people that identify as LGBT+).

[andreilfaceshoves]

Foxes identities headcanons 🤗

Neil

Descendants of Russian Jewish refugees on both sides of the family—this is also how I headcanon Mary connected with Nathan, Russian Jewish Mobsters’ International™️ or something idk

Obviously canonically demiaro+demiace but I also think he’s ambiamorous like he don’t give a fuck what kind of relationship he’s in as long as he gets to be with that special person(s)

Trans masc (he/they) af y’all (though I have written him as gender indifferent before), probably got on hormones way too young and a not-great-but-got-the-job-done back alley top surgery, but stopped hormones when his mom died because he didn’t want to waste the money and was pretty content with his transition otherwise

Andrew

White probably has some Scandinavian descent

Low key can see his as either firmly cis binary man or the most indifferent agender bitch (he/him either way) soooo whichever suits my mood is fine lol (though I have written him as trans masc)

Obvi canonically gay/achillean but I think he’s definitely demiromantic as well + I don’t think he’d be against polyamory but definitely not open relationships like it has to be poly-fidelity

Ex for those who don’t know what poly-fidelity is: he and Neil decide to bring Kevin into their relationship but not because they had an open relationship but because they fell in love with him together and now that it’s the three of them it’s still a closed triad and they aren’t seeking out other people

Kevin

I headcanon Wymack as Black/Indigenous American and Kayleigh as Japanese/Irish so that would make this hoe QUATRARACIAL (iconic of him forreal) so that’s Black/Indigenous/Japanese/Irish for our Queen

Cis man (he/him), bisexual

Probably non-monogamous but not sure in what forms it would work for him. My multi-ships that I have for him are: Kerejean, Kandriel, Kev/Allison as FWB after Seth’s death and before Allison gets together with Renee because I don’t think he and Thea would care with their schedules and stuff ya know?

Renee

Korean/white American

Nonbinary (she/they) and no interest in a medical/physical transition

Lesbian and monogamous + I ship her Allison

Obviously very Christian but I think they probably go to some non-denominational, relatively liberal church. Also their mom is totally a lesbian as well.

Allison

Black American/Italian American

Trans femme (she/her), has had both top + bottom surgery and is on HRT

Bisexual and non-monogamous until she falls in love and then she is VERY monogamous

Dan

Black American on both sides of the family

Definitely a cis woman (she/they) but not afraid of genderfuckery in her expression

For sure monogamous I can’t decide whether she’s bisexual or the token straight ally I see both…maybe she’s heteroflexible (which I see as a very valid identity same with homoflexible)?

I think she’s spiritual but doesn’t know what she believes exactly

Nicky

A lot of his identity is already fleshed out but I’ll add him anyway

Mexican/white (probably Scandinavian)

Cis man (he/him), gay, and non monogamous but not polyamorous—he and Erik are fine with flirting and kissing but no other romantic partners or long term fuck buddies

Picks up indigenous Mexican spiritual practices as a part of reclaiming his heritage that his dad probably didn’t let him celebrate much

Aaron

White, probably Scandinavian

Our token cishet (he/him) and jealous monogamist

Loud atheist and science advocate science is his faith

Matt

Black American dad + Nigerian American mom

Cis man (he/they), pansexual, monogamous

Was probably raised Christian but I don’t think it’s something that matters to him except maybe a cultural thing

Seth

Black American/Cuban American

Cis man (he/him), deeply repressed bisexual, monogamous

[loki-zen]

”in no universe is it a flex to be one”

At risk of sounding vaguely racist, it does seem to be a flex for US Black women and Latinas

I can’t explain it, but I’m a white guy, so I’m super disconnected from the whole thing

Funnily enough, it seems to be spreading to the men in those cultures also, but from the women? The Mexican guys I used to work construction with were very proud of being able to pay for nails/hair extensions/etc for their gfs, and women in that culture would complain if their boyfriend couldn’t afford to pay their salon bills.

A few of the white guys I worked with definitely were tomboy appreciators, and the minority guys just did not get it at all. Really funny semi-harmless cultural disconnect. Nobody got mad or bullied, just total confusion.

only time it ever really got bad was a black guy complaining how a woman he’d invited on a date had showed up with short natural hair and no nails, etc, and one of the white guys kinda roasted him that it was a little gay to care if your girl had fancy princess nails. Got a little heated, to say the least

I do in fact understand the theory on this, or at least I have read it - nevertheless I just personally don't agree that it is ever a flex to be a trophy.

Sure it absolutely sucks that societies have historically denied many* women access to any aspect of Pretty Useless Trophy Status (and by proxy, participation in that society's Idealised Female Gender Role), but it's still a pretty shitty consolation prize next to getting to be a person that does stuff.

*actually, depending on how you slice it, most women, since the vast majority of all women have at all times in history had to work

[cale3k00]

I don’t appreciate my oc Joseph being compared to other characters that are white. Labeling Joseph as a white character that you compare him to, and reposting my not colored/rendered art of him saying it’s that character instead of him erases Joseph’s culture and makes me very uncomfortable as a minority. My oc is a dark skinned Mexican gay man, I made him like that for a personal reason and representation of my culture. it’s odd to repost my art of him labeling him as a white character.

My oc is being labeled as Nikolai from cod in some reposts/reblogs, please do not label my art of Joseph as Nikolai. You’re erasing my ocs culture and he’s not Nikolai, you’re also whitewashing him because you’re misleading people by labeling Joseph as that character. Please don’t label my oc x canon art as nikprice either, please repost actual nikprice art. This makes me upset as a minority. I’m not trying to cause any drama I just don’t want this kind of behavior to continue. /nm

This is what Joseph looks like by the way. This is why it makes me uncomfortable that he’s being labeled as a white character.

[eretzyisrael]

by Brendan O'Neill

Whatever happened to the sin of cultural appropriation? This ideology of rebuke held sway on university campuses for years. The idea was that no member of the majority group should ever appropriate the cultural habits of a minority group. It’s offensive, apparently. It’s racial theft. It’s parody disguised as authenticity. White men wearing their hair in dreadlocks, white women in kimonos, gay men twerking or using black slang – all of it was damned as ‘stealing’, the co-option of the culture of the powerless by the powerful. And yet today, visit any campus in the West and everywhere you look you’ll see white youths dressed as Arabs.

Keffiyeh chic is all the rage. You’re no one unless you have one of these black-and-white scarves that are widely worn in the Palestinian territories. Student radicals, celebrities, Guardian-reading dads on their way for a macchiato – everyone has a keffiyeh draped over their shoulders. It has become the uniform of the politically enlightened, the must-have of the socially aware. They’re ‘all over Europe’, as one writer says; every time there’s a ‘pro-Palestine’ demo you’ll be confronted by ‘a sea of these garments’. Even the mega-rich are getting in on the act – Balenciaga once made a high-end keffiyeh that will set you back £3,000. But then, you can’t put a price on virtue-signalling.

Is this cultural appropriation? If Beyoncé wearing a sari and Kim Kardashian styling her hair in braids can induce a frenzy of censure among social-justice warriors – as both of those things bizarrely did – then why not bourgeois Westerners pulling on a scarf that has its origins among the nomadic Bedouin tribes of the Arab peninsula? If a student who dons a Mexican sombrero can be branded ‘culturally indifferent’, then why not a student who wraps himself in Arab cloth? As Julie Burchill has wondered, ‘In an age when putting on a sombrero for 60 seconds during a drunken night out at an all-you-can-eat taco bar can be taken as proof of conquistador-level evil… why do these same students swan around wearing the keffiyeh?’.

The keffiyeh wearers will say their scarves are about solidarity, not stealing. They’re showing their support for a political cause, not purloining Palestinian culture. The reason this scarf is ‘worn by non-Palestinians across the world’ is ‘as a sign of solidarity and allyship’, insists Salon. But since when did solidarity involve fancy dress? The 1960s students who protested against the Vietnam War did not wear bamboo conical hats in mimicry of the Vietnamese peasants who so often felt the heat of America’s bombs and napalm. Western supporters of the Quit India movement were not known for wearing white dhotis in the style of Mahatma Gandhi. Solidarity was expressed with words and actions, not imitation of style.

No, there is something else going on with the cult of the keffiyeh, something that falls outside of the traditional realm of solidarity and even awareness-raising. That an item of clothing has become so omnipresent among the virtuous set, that the activist class covets this scarf with such relish that there has been an ‘influx of mass- produced keffiyehs’ into our societies, points to a performative streak in pro-Palestine activism. That it has become de rigueur in certain circles to flout all the laws of ‘cultural appropriation’ and pull on this ‘hot accessory [of] the West’ – as the Guardian calls it – suggests the activist set is as keen to say something about itself and its own rectitude as it is about the predicament of the Palestinian people. That so many progressives rarely leave the house without first wrapping themselves in a keffiyeh confirms the extent to which the Palestine question itself has come to be wrapped up in the personalities of these influencers, in their sense of self, in their very social status.