#80s male american

[beautifulfaaces]

Wilmer Valderrama

Facts

January 30, 1980

American actor

He is of Columbian and Venezuelan descent

Filmography

Nick [NCIS: 2016-2023]

Fez [That 90’s Show: 2023]

Ernesto [Blast Beats: 2020]

Kyle [Grey’s Anatomy: 2015]

Efrem [Awake: 2012]

Max [Columbus Day: 2008]

Fez [That 70’s Show: 1998-2006]

Antonio [Four Corners: 1998]

Appearance

black hair

brown eyese

1.73m

Roleplay

playable: teenager, young adult, adult

[smallboyonherbike]

this is a curated selection of my all time older faves, yes i am an expert (source: my parents exclusively played country CDs and radio my entire life)

my women country playlist (mix of 90s-today) if ur interested

[kaijutegu]

Happy Valentine's Day! When you think about love and the animal kingdom, are alligators an animal that comes to mind? No? Well, they should be, because they have some of the most interesting courtship behavior of any non-bird. (Bird displays are something else entirely.) I think it's time that you all are introduced to the Big Gay Alligator Sex Study, more properly known as Courtship Behavior of American Alligators (Alligator mississipiensis), written by Kent Vliet. You can get the paper at the link below!

This was a study done over a 3-year period in the 80s with a population of captive American alligators to look at how they interacted. Alligators are incredibly social and have complex behavioral dynamics, and their courtship rituals and routines are pretty dang interesting. In general, crocodilians spend a great deal of time interacting with each other when compared to other reptiles, and the courtship behavior of a few species is well-documented. But in this post, I'm mostly going to talk about the American alligator (with a quick detour into Cuban crocs).

Why Do We Care About Courtship?

So before I dive into talking about this study, let's talk about why we care about courtship (the social behavior that leads to mating) and mating (sexual interaction that could, hypothetically, lead to reproduction). Courtship and mating are extremely important when studying animal behavior- honestly, they're extremely important when studying zoology in general. In some cases, understanding this behavior actually a major conservation concern! For example, the Cuban crocodile is an endangered species. They're largely constricted to two swampy areas of Cuba, both of which also have American crocodiles present. And unfortunately, the female Cuban crocs find the male American crocs really, really sexy. This is a big problem, because with only about 3-4,000 Cuban crocs left in the wild (possibly even fewer), they need to be breeding with their own species to make more Cubanitos.

These. Make more of them.

But what scientists have found is that not only are there hybrid crocs in the wild, the Cuban population of American crocodiles is more closely related to Cuban crocodiles than other populations of American crocodiles, suggesting this has been going on for a very long time.

You can read more about that here if you want, but back to the gay alligators.

Alligator? More Like Alli-GAY-tor, amiright?

(actually that IS wrong it's more like alli-bisexual-tor, but that doesn't sound like alligator)

So how does a study like this happen? Back in the 80s, the American population was Feeling A Way about alligators. Something that you gotta understand when you're doing any kind of conservation is that people protect what they love, and they love what they understand. Alligators are a major conservation success story today- there's millions in the wild- but they were in serious danger of extinction in the 1960s, and it was a combination of legislation, awareness campaigns, and captive breeding at both zoological parks and commercial gator farms that helped bring them back. As a result, they were one of the first species to be de-listed from the ESA!

All of this attention meant that alligator science was flourishing in the late 70s and 80s, and that's where this study comes into being. This post is long enough so I'm not gonna go into all the details and methodology- you can find that in the paper I linked up top!

However, there is one piece of methodology we should talk about, and that's the choice of study population. It's part of what makes this particular study so interesting!. See, in a lot of cases, captive behavior really differs from wild behavior. This can be impacted by captivity conditions- what other animals the study animal has access to, what behaviors the animal has learned in captivity, even down to things like how the animals are fed. For example, some courtship behavior in captive animals can be the result of unnatural habitat conditions or limited social groupings. If you only have access to a couple of conspecifics, you don't have the same choices that you do if you have access to something closer to a wild population. If you've got a breeding group with one male and a handful of females, you can't ask or answer any questions about male/male interactions! Crowding is also an issue- too many animals in a space can be stressful, and lead to atypical sexual behavior.

But that's one of the cool elements of this study: the alligators in question live in a large social group in a lagoon that's basically just natural habitat with a boardwalk going around it. It's about as close to studying a wild population as you can get, with the advantage that it's far more accessible. And what this leads to is that that the researchers were able to see a really wide range of behavior, because all of the alligators had lots of access to lots of different mates. They were able to make choices that you wouldn't see in a smaller group. There's a trade-off that Vliet notes, and that is the population density and captive situation means that results might not quite work out the way they do in the wild- but in the years since, the results of the study have been vindicated with research into wild populations.

So, what are alligators into? Gay sex, group sex, yelling real loud, and lots and lots of... gentle caressing.

that's not a euphemism they spend a lot of time gently rubbing each others' faces

So first things first, it turns out that the vast majority of alligator mounting, which occurs after courtship behaviors like jaw rubbing, bellowing, head rubbing, and swimming together is male/male. Over the three year study period, an average of 68% of all sexual interactions were male/male. However, what they don't really notice is exclusivity, because when it comes to the sex of their sex partner, alligators... well. They aren't all that picky.

Another fascinating aspect of alligator courtship is what's called courtship groups. These are readily observed in captive settings (and in the wild, too, as mentioned in Dragon Songs), and are mixed-sex groups that spontaneously form. As other alligators approach a mounting pair, the original pair will happily split up and switch partners. Usually what happens is that the alligator on top slides off to initiate courtship with a newly-arrived individual. What's really interesting here is that, as the author notes, "males engaged in courtship with a female readily terminate that interaction and initiate interactions with males." Another fun element of alligator courtship is that while in most vertebrates, males approach females, alligator females often approach males. Usually it's the males approaching, but for many crocodilians, courtship initiation is an equal-opportunity affair.

Alligators are also really vocal during courtship! This is pretty unusual for a reptile- usually they're a quiet bunch. But crocodilians are pretty chatty. And during the breeding season, something pretty spectacular happens: infrasonic communication, better known as bellowing. This is sometimes called water dancing, due to the ripple patterns it makes. It's a loud, low-pitched rumble that conveys information about size and location, and is used for territorial displays and as a mating call. During the not-breeding season, a bellow means "stay away!" During the breeding season, it means "HOT ALLIGATOR SINGLES IN YOUR AREA."

Here's some pretty spectacular videos showing you what this looks and sounds like. The vibrations make the water above their backs splash up.

Alligators are also extremely tactile during courtship. The study has detailed analysis of touch in specific tactile zones along the head and neck of the alligators. Vliet notes "These sites have increased numbers of swollen pustular scale organs, the function of which is unknown."

What's kinda funny about this to me is that now, the functions of these organs are known- they're highly innervated tissues that help alligators detect prey in murky water. An alligator's jaws are more sensitive than a human fingertip due to the sheer number of nerve endings! So of course these areas are going to be highly sensitive, and to me it makes perfect sense that they feature so heavily in courtship.

So what can we take away from this 40-year-old study? Quite a bit! First, it's a great reminder that humans aren't special. We see same-sex mating behavior in pretty much every species we look at. We see it in cockroaches, spiders, and butterflies. We see it in sheep. We see it in alligators. We see it in every other species of great ape. Of course we also see it in humans! There's nothing that special about same-sex sexual behavior. It's a part of... pretty much everybody's evolutionary history.

Another thing I think is really important is that while this is an old study, it was absolutely pivotal as a turning point in helping people understand alligators. Remember how I said earlier that we protect what we love, and we love what we understand? This study showed the world that alligators weren't just mindless eating machines. They're socially complex! Understanding alligator sociality and how they choose mates and interact helped us care for them better. It told us more about how to keep them happy in captivity. Alligators are smart, communicative creatures. They don't always get along, but they don't always fight, either. (Don't get me wrong: they will fight each other, and they've actually evolved some pretty specific anti-other-alligator defenses... but they don't always fight, even during the breeding season.) This is interesting to me because in mammals, it's hypothesized that same-sex sexual behavior may have evolved for prosocial reasons; that is, it helps reduce conflicts. Perhaps it does the same for alligators.

In conclusion:

If you want to know more about alligator courtship and mating rituals, I can't recommend Vladimir Dinets's Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure Among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations highly enough. I know I talk about this book all the time, but it's easily the most accessible writing on crocodilian social behavior. It will change the way you think about and understand these animals.

Another phenomenal book is Alligators: The Illustrated Guide to Their Biology, Behavior, and Conservation by Kent Vliet. (Hm, wonder if he's written anything else...) This is basically the Bible for gator behavior. The photographs are absolutely gorgeous, too.

[bits-and-babs]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐁𝐨𝐲 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Previous Joel Fics: Mule [5.1K], Atta Girl [10.2K]

Summary: Ellie steals one of Bills magazines and you and Joel decide to see what the fuss is about.

Word Count: 3k

CW: Possible spoilers for episode 3, but I haven’t seen it! Based on the game. Heavily inspired by my bestie @foxilayde. A much lighter fic than the last few, a little bit of dry comedy, a little bit of playful Joel, but also a little bashful. Consumption of porn magazine, companions to lovers(?), p in v sex, fingering. Not proof read.

Tease: “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna c** for me?”

“N-Now Ellie, that ain’t for kids-“

“Woaaah!” Ellie had exclaimed, holding up the magazine rustling in her hand by her fingertips, her arm outstretched to take in the whole double page, “How- How the hell would he even walk around with that thing?!”

That had piqued your interest, eyes snapping up to the rearview mirror. Ellie was giggling, grinning from ear to ear as Joel turned in his seat to snatch the paper emblazoned with PLAYGIRL in red lettering from her hand.

“Would you jus’-“

“Hold your horses!” Ellie had insisted, “I wanna see what all the fuss is about!”

You hadn’t said anything at the time, chuckling at the way Joel’s cheeks flushed as Ellie asked all kinds of inappropriate questions. It was only when she discarded the pornographic magazine on the floor of the truck at the end of her smutty inquisition and fell asleep on the back seat upon Joel’s insistence that you made a note of where she had dropped it in the footwell.

Joel, having stopped to rest, slept in the front seat. His head tilted forwards; a gentle snore indicated he was out cold. With some courage and a little luck, you managed to grab the magazine without waking either of the sleeping duo and exit the truck.

Settling back in the bed of the pickup truck now and minding how uncomfortable it was to lean against the metal, you set a flashlight against the floor, open up the worn pages of the filthy magazine and chew nervously on your lower lip.

Of course, you weren’t to judge Bill for his sexuality. You never had before the outbreak, and there certainly wasn’t any point in being a bigot when the world had ended. In fact, thumbing through each crinkled page, you can’t help but thank Bill for his impressive collection of smutty male pages.

Each page had a collection of pictures and articles on everything from the ‘best sex positions for your zodiac signs’ to ‘average penis size of men around the world’. Clearly photographed in the 80s, based on the moustaches alone, each man photographed in a multitude of poses was muscular, slathered in oil, and donning the tiniest speedos while exhibiting the most prominent bulges beneath the aquablade fabric.

Ellie was right, how do they walk around with those things?

One, in particular, caught your eye; the sunset-orange speedos sat snug against the globes of his ass. The muscles in his back were defined, rippling with each of his poses. They were so clear beneath his golden tan you could probably label each picture like an anatomy textbook. He was pretty, and he made your face warm up.

“That your type?” A gruff, rumbling voice makes your body jolt in shock, inhaling a petrified gasp.

Joel had stepped out of the truck while you were distracted by the glutes and pectorals of the gorgeous male models, catching you off guard as he walked up behind you. He crossed his arms over his chest, biceps straining the sleeves of his denim shirt.

“Mhm- N-No! No, I was just reading about how standard American men have a less-than-average dick length,” you lie smoothly to cover up being caught red-handed, using some of the data you had read a few pages back. “What about yours? Is your moody personality compensating for something?”

“You ain’t funny,” he answers flatly, refusing to rise to your childish jabs as he climbs up into the truck bed with you. You catch a glimpse of the pistol buried in the waistband of his jeans, and your pulse races faster than it had with any of the round bums you’d seen in the pages.

“I’d say I’m hilarious. It’s the trauma of experiencing The End. It builds chara-cter,” you ramble, only stuttering when Joel manages to pry the glossy papers from your hands. His eyes scan over the page with a look of disinterest.

“But outta date, don’t you think?” He grumbles in that grumpy, man-child way he does that always has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He’s pointing at the very 80s-style porn staches.

“Dunno, wouldn’t exactly call your facial hair ‘trendy’,” you scoff, watching him flick to the page titled in bold capitals: EXCITING SEX TRICKS TO TRY!

It’s ridiculous. You’re both grown adults, and it’s not as though the two of you were born during the outbreak. You’d both been through high school, and no doubt had sexual partners before Cordyceps took hold of the world. However, the prospect of talking sex with Joel Miller was mortifying.

You can feel the heat creeping up your throat as his eyes scan the sections of information with such indifference that you’re almost sure that he’s bored. Perhaps he was. It wasn’t as though you had caught him taking some time to himself during your great journey.

Joel is so lost in the writing that you allow yourself a moment to take in the slope of his nose, the slant of his cupid's bow framed by his greying moustache. Beneath his creased, frowning brow, his long lashes surround the deep brown of his eyes as they flick back and forth across the page. He was a handsome man. Was there no one waiting for him back in the Boston QZ? He’d never sa-

“The fuck is guddlin’?” Joel speaks out, shocking you from your thoughts with a start. You blink slowly, probably looking really fucking stupid as you choke on the words stuck in your throat when Joel looks up at you with a quirked brow.

“I-“

“I mean, I know guddlin’ in a fishin’ sense,” he interrupts, pointing to the page and prodding it with the tip of his finger, “Not in a-… Not in this sense, though.”

“Does-… Does it not explain?” You ask him quietly, your mouth suddenly very dry. Joel gives a light shrug, his eyes wandering over the page in search of a definition.

“Oh- Here,” he points out. He takes a second to read, his tanned skin tinged with pink as the words sink in. “Uhm… It’s- Well, it’s-“

Poor Joel looks as though he’s seconds away from an aneurysm attempting to explain the bizarre sex act without actually saying it. You scoff, snatching up the crinkled magazine and reading over the asterisk in small print at the bottom of the information page.

‘To insert one's finger(s) into a woman's vagina to pleasure her digitally while simultaneously having penile-vaginal intercourse with her.’

You pause, your lips parting as you look at Joel with a weak laugh. He’s rubbing at the back of his neck, eyes cast somewhere on the horizon in an attempt to avoid your own. He’s as embarrassed as you are, it seems, clearing his throat with a weak chuckle.

“Well,” he mumbled, eyes flicking to the magazine, “Must’a been good for it to end up in that.”

You nod slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you glance down at the black and white print that appears to all blur together in embarrassment. “Mhm.”

You can feel your pulse between your thighs, your skin tingling beneath what you assume is Joel’s gaze. It’s crude, utterly filthy, but you can imagine the stretch, the feeling of his weapon-calloused fingertips coaxing your g-spot as he slowly sinks into you.

Slowly, with trembling hands, you close the magazine with a nervous laugh, discarding it with a half-hearted toss over the edge of the truck bed and onto the roadside. “Stupid shit anyway…”

Your aimless comment is met with silence, and you’re far too humiliated to face the notion of looking at Joel. You imagine he thinks you’re insane, having caught you reading and enjoying this filth.

“… Take it you ain’t tried that before?” Joel’s gruff voice cuts through the sound of the crickets in the surrounding grass, and you can’t help but laugh, simply shaking your head and avoiding his gaze.

A delicate brush of skin against your ankle sparks something raw up your spine. You look at it quickly, seeing Joel’s fingertips tracing the rough circumference of the joint beneath them. Your skin prickles pleasantly, and you look up at your partner- your smuggling partner- through your lashes.

His expression is firm, but his eyes betray his outward calm display. They’re flickering between your lips and eyes, his exhale slow as he attempts to force out some words he appears afraid to put out into the atmosphere.

“Do you… Do you wanna try it?”

It’s haphazard, delivered clumsily, and so utterly unlike Joel. You can see the cringe in his expression when the sentence settles in the air, and your heart lurches when you see he’s sincere. That he wants you and that he’s letting you know after years of hiding it from you.

God, you don’t even give him another second to doubt himself. You’re scrambling into his lap, straddling it and pressing your mouth to his in a kiss that hurts more than it pleases, his teeth scraping your lower lip and your tongue tracing his own.

You can feel it through the thin, worn denim of his jeans, the jump of his cock when you settle your crotch down against the seam. His hands are vicious, grasping handfuls of your thighs, your ass, your hips. He could bruise the shape of his fingerprints into you, and you’d thank him, would beg him to put you through the pain again to brand you as his.

He groans out your name into your mouth, but it sounds more like a growl rattling in his chest. You’re fumbling in the low lighting with his belt buckle, the clinking of the clasp bringing you relief when you free Joel’s hips from their leather confines. It’s almost frantic, the pace you set as you try and fail, try and fail before you successfully pop the button of his jeans and yank them over his hips. There’s not enough time to rid him of them completely, so Joel settles with the waistband resting just above his knees.

“C’mere,” Joel husks, his lips brushing yours as he speaks and forces your cargo pants over your hips without even bothering to let down the zip. It hurts a little, smarts, but it sparks something desperate in you when you realise it’s pulled down your underwear too, leaving you exposed to his gropes.

One hand grasps the globe of your asscheek, giving a brutally harsh squeeze. The other sinks between your thighs. Joel’s groan of delight when he finds the insides of your thighs soaked causes your cunt to throb before he’s even touched it.

"Is that all me?" He asks you, his voice dipping to a deep, spine-shuddering hum. He sweeps the calloused pad of his index fingertip up the inside of your thigh and through your pussy lips. You can hear the wetness there when he notches against your clit, when he sinks the very tip of his fingers into your entrance. "That all me, or did you like the pornstache more than I realised?"

You usually would scoff in Joel's face, tell him to stop being so ridiculous and self-absorbed, but he's slowly circling your frayed bundle of nerves with his thumb, and your jaw is slack. You can't even think of a witty retort, just grasping feebly at the collar of his denim shirt.

"I'm gonna take what I want from that lack of response," he fills the silence for you, an infuriating smirk settling on his lips as he sinks his fingers inside of you.

The lack of resistance and eagerness from your cunt catches you both off guard, Joel groaning in delight as you take the length of his digits so easily. "Fuck~”

You whimper out Joel’s name, thighs trembling on either side of his lap as he coaxes his fingers towards him inside of you and wasting no time in finding the spot that would bring tears to your eyes.

“Ah,” he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips when he sees your torso crumple inwards as his touch brushes something electric inside you. “Ah- that’s it, ain’t it?”

It’s pathetic. You want to answer him, even sob out wordlessly as the wave of pleasure crashes through you at the delicate touch, but your words are stalled in your throat as Joel circles that sensitive wall inside you with his nimble fingers.

“C’mere,” he growls, seeing your expression contorted desperately and deciding he can’t wait much longer. One hand is still busy with building your orgasm, and his other clumsily pulls down his boxers and exposes his ruddy length.

Joel gives you barely a moment to absorb what it is you see, managing to process the pink tinge to the velvet skin of his cockhead and the smear of precum that glistens under the low lighting before he’s hoisting you over him, knees on either side of his hips.

It’s filthy and disgusting and raw, the way he uses his free hand to sweep his cock across your clit. It sparks something dangerous deep inside your abdomen, another wave of increasingly unmanageable bliss that wraps around your spinal cord and constricts your lungs. You barely choke out his name, your fist punching his shoulder as if to say, ‘stop teasing!’ before Joel sinks into your wet heat with a broken rasp of your name.

Tight. Everything is coiled up so tightly inside you as the width of Joel’s cock-head pushes past your entrance, your walls swallowing him and squeezing him as he sinks in slowly. Your fingernails are digging into his shoulders through his denim shirt, tears of bliss welling in your eyes as he fills you completely. All the while he continues to circle and poke and prod at your g-spot, simultaneously building up your orgasm and wrecking you.

“That’s it,” he husks, breathless as he helps you settle down to the hilt of his dick. He’s nudging your cervix, and you feel so impossibly full that your body is trembling around him, pushed to its absolute limit as your tears stream down your cheeks. They drip from your chin, leaving deeper wet stains across the faded blue of his shirt.

Then he’s shoving his hips upwards and into you, and it’s like you can’t hold onto him tight enough. You’re scrabbling for some kind of grip that can brace you against the simultaneous stimulation of his thrusts and his fingers circling something mind-numbingly raw inside you. The rusty parts of the van creak beneath the motion, and between your slurred curses and weak cries of his name, you’re trying to warn him to be quiet, not to wake Ellie.

You can barely manage to coax him on, eyes rolling back and forehead falling forward onto his shoulder as you give in entirely to the creeping orgasm that picks up your spine.

“C-Can feel you,” Joel stumbles over his own words and laughs, his cock twitching inside you as he continues to drag in and out of your abused pussy, “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna cum for me?”

You want to slap him. Want to make him walk to Pittsburgh with this cocky attitude, this cavalier facade that is so unlike his usual brusque persona. Instead, you’re keening for him, nodding your head against his collarbone and squeaking out your best impression of a ‘yes, Joel, please, please!’

Shit- it’s coming. You feel it racing through you before he even delivers his devastating blow. You think it can’t get any more intense, that it can’t feel any better than this, until he’s pushing his hips upwards and manoeuvres his hand to brush his thumb against your swollen, sensitive clit.

The print of his thumb doesn’t even make it a full rotation before your orgasm comes roaring forwards, slamming through your body to the point it’s almost painful in the best way. You’re quick to smother your scream of his name, biting down hard on the denim fabric at Joel’s throat and releasing the devastating shout of his name into the fibres between your teeth.

Poor Joel stumbles with how hard your body clamps down on him, his galloping thrusts reduced to sloppy stutters of his hips as a grating, pained groan rattles through his ribs beside your ear. Distantly, you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you until his cum is spilling down the sides of his cock.

“God-“ He chokes out, voice catching in his throat as you heave for breath. It’s not as though he has the energy to lift you from him, still buzzing. You’re somewhere else entirely, vision blurry and consciousness far outside the dermis walls of your body.

Slumped against Joel, you focus on breathing. How do you do it again? In and out… In and out. It’s embarrassing, the way he’s left you unsure of essential bodily functions. The ease with which he’s numbed your mind and body.

Ironically, though, he makes it easier to find your way back to yourself. His steady, albeit heavy, breathing ticks like a metronome, easing you down from the impossible high you’ve ascended beneath his touch. He smells like salty sweat, like mud that cakes his boots and the truck's tyres.

“You think maybe we should pick that magazine back up?” Joel mumbled into your hair, oddly quiet and almost shy despite the blunt delivery of the query.

Pausing, you glance up at him through your lashes and catch a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks. He’s staring down at the sidewalk next to the tyres, no doubt eyeing up the pages strewn across the cement flags.

“… Well,” you whisper, voice hoarse, “You never know what survival skills we might need. With your blueprints for Molotovs and upgrading weapons and my articles on ‘bizarre sex positions’, we’re bound to survive the apocalypse-“

“Alright, darlin’,” Joel attempts to speak you down from your amused ramblings, made awkward by the crudeness of the conversation once again.

“I mean, what the fuck is the ‘Pretzel Dip’?”

“Fuck if I know,” he admits with an air of chagrin.

“… You’re not much of a playboy, are you Miller?”

“Shut up and put your pants on.”

END

@hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @hold-our-destiny @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina

[mazzystar24]

Hi guys and welcome to Addie’s research spiral into the gay moustache:

Moustaches have always been a symbol of masculinity, sexuality and social standing

Like legit dating back to the 1800s we had the whisker and beard movement which started pushing the idea that facial hair can be masculine and sophisticated and not just a sign of lacking in morality and uncleanliness like the victorians used to think and you can actually draw a direct line to men feeling threatened to the patriarchy in those times and the prevalence of facial hair- this assertion of dominance and masculinity being seen similarly in ww1 soldiers, where facial hair became the accepted norm then post ww1 it went out of style again then this cycle repeats again with most wars.

There is also within the later 1800s and early 1900s links to sexuality and rebellion because younger men not having a full beard and instead having clean shaven faces or moustaches was seen as a sign of rebellion against older generations , also the need for maintenance of this style made it viewed as effeminate

Someone put it as the moustache has always been tied with the three fs: fops, foreigners and fiends meaning it was perceived that men would need to be well groomed or gay, foreign (particularly from Latin countries) or lacking in morals and evil to have a moustache

Okay so the origin of the gay moustache aside from the connection to the well groomed element

So post stonewall riots the gay moustache became a real thing like one qoute I found that was funny was arnie kantrowitz saying it was a requirement in the gay community, you needed a a flannel shirt, mustache or beard, bomber jacket, jeans and boots. We were dressing like the blue-collar men that turned us on." And a lot of it stemmed from what was dubbed the Castro clone look

Okay so Freddie was not in fact the originator of the Castro clone look

The castro clone look basically took all the really masculine and macho staples and made it extremely gay

The look originally being inspired by the men of the Castro neighbourhood in San Francisco in the early 60s and THAT actually comes from the “greaser”/hood look inspired by the 50s Italian American men and Latinos who also their subculture was born from their stereotypes

The Castro clone look doesn’t have one distinct origin but its popularity was fuelled by gay artists like Tom of Finland, and musicians like the village people and Freddie and gay pornstars like al Parker

And Parker was one of the big names in the Castro clone look this in particular not only explains the reason for his look well but also peep the “pouring beers over eachother” line and let me take you back to bachelor party buddie

And now I hear the republican man and Gerrard mentions and to that I say that’s the whole point of it

Like the hypermasculinised look was meant to not only play the macho aesthetic and be a form of queer signaling but it was also meant to subvert gay men stereotypes by instead doing this like extreme portrayal of masculinity

It’s drawing from straight men but making it’s undeniably queer

Like wife beaters, moustaches, denims and flannels were so tied to het males that they took that and still found a way to make it so undeniably queer that it became a form of queer signaling

Thus taking the power away from the macho hets and forming a new subculture

The gay moustache only started seeing its end around the 80s AIDS epidemic because the moustache aimed to make a person look older but as queer communities became more sick or perceived as unclean or sick the need to look clean and young grew and clean shaved faces became the trend again

So Eddie having the moustache isn’t some tie to Gerrard or straight people it’s actually so queer coded and a form of rebellion

And btw this isn’t even a niche thing it’s like a widely known queer thing to the point that one show got slammed for having a gay club scene set in that time and not having any Castro clones in it

[haggishlyhagging]

The more women are paid, the less eager they are to marry. A 1982 study of three thousand singles found that women earning high incomes are almost twice as likely to want to remain unwed as women earning low incomes. "What is going to happen to marriage and childbearing in a society where women really have equality?" Princeton demographer Charles Westoff wondered in the Wall Street Journal in 1986. "The more economically independent women are, the less attractive marriage becomes."

Men in the '80s, on the other hand, were a little more anxious to marry than the press accounts let on. Single men far outnumbered women in dating services, matchmaking clubs, and the personals columns, all of which enjoyed explosive growth in the decade. In the mid-80s, video dating services were complaining of a three-to-one male-to-female sex ratio in their membership rolls. In fact, it had become common practice for dating services to admit single women at heavily reduced rates, even free memberships, in hopes of remedying the imbalance.

Personal ads were similarly lopsided. In an analysis of 1,200 ads in 1988, sociologist Theresa Montini found that most were placed by thirty-five-year-old heterosexual men and the vast majority "wanted a long-term relationship." Dating service directors reported that the majority of men they counseled were seeking spouses, not dates. When Great Expectations, the nation's largest dating service, surveyed its members in 1988, it found that 93 percent of the men wanted, within one year, to have either "a commitment with one person" or marriage. Only 7 percent of the men said they were seeking "lots of dates with different people." Asked to describe "what concerns you the day after you had sex with a new partner," only 9 percent of the men checked "Was I good?" while 42 percent said they were wondering whether it could lead to a "committed relationship."

These men had good cause to pursue nuptials; if there's one pattern that psychological studies have established, it's that the institution of marriage has an overwhelmingly salutary effect on men's mental health. "Being married," the prominent government demographer Paul Glick once estimated, "is about twice as advantageous to men as to women in terms of continued survival." Or, as family sociologist Jessie Bernard wrote in 1972:

“There are few findings more consistent, less equivocal, [and] more convincing, than the sometimes spectacular and always impressive superiority on almost every index—demographic, psychological, or social—of married over never-married men. Despite all the jokes about marriage in which men indulge, all the complaints they lodge against it, it is one of the greatest boons of their sex.”

Bernard's observation still applies. As Ronald C. Kessler, who tracks changes in men's mental health at the University of Michigan's Institute for Social Research, says: "All this business about how hard it is to be a single woman doesn't make much sense when you look at what's really going on. It's single men who have the worst of it. When men marry, their mental health massively increases."

The mental health data, chronicled in dozens of studies that have looked at marital differences in the last forty years, are consistent and overwhelming: The suicide rate of single men is twice as high as that of married men. Single men suffer from nearly twice as many severe neurotic symptoms and are far more susceptible to nervous breakdowns, depression, even nightmares. And despite the all-American image of the carefree single cowboy, in reality bachelors are far more likely to be morose, passive, and phobic than married men.

When contrasted with single women, unwed men fared no better in mental health studies. Single men suffer from twice as many mental health impairments as single women; they are more depressed, more passive, more likely to experience nervous breakdowns and all the designated symptoms of psychological distress—from fainting to insomnia. In one study, one third of the single men scored high for severe neurotic symptoms; only 4 percent of the single women did.

-Susan Faludi, Backlash: the Undeclared War Against American Women

[chaotic-archaeologist]

so back in 2005-2007 I was an anthropology major, I was told that matriarchies never existed. at the time my professor said that it was kinda sexist that anthropology thought that way. so I wonder if anything has changed since then. I'm not talking about the weird mother goddess cult that hippy 2 wave feminist wanted but like, people who say they are like the muoso (I'm sorry if I spelt that wrong), and other groups. I've heard several native Americans from varrying nation that said their culture was matriarchal, and if modern anthropologist are taught that the experts on society are the people in that society, why do/did anthropologist decided a matriarchal society was impossible. I know this could take a long time to answer so if it's too long for you maybe just some helpful links to an article if you know of one.

So the answer—as always, with anthropology—is complicated.

Saying that XYZ never happened is difficult, given that all it takes is one positive instance to disprove the statement. Yes, there certainly have been (and still are) matriarchal societies. (Please also keep in mind that matriarchal societies aren't inherently better that patriarchal societies based on that one trait alone.)

If I had to guess, what you were told was the product of several theological whiplashes in anthropological theory. And you are indeed correct: some of it has to do with Second Wave Feminism. Archaeology and anthropology have been unfortunately late to the ballgame, and feminism is one of those topics.

Basically, for a long time anthropology was dominated by rich white dudes who believed that men were the center of all anthropological innovations ever (more or less, this is the simplified version). Then in the 80s/90s, Second Wave feminists managed to break into the discipline and the stance went from everything is patriarchal to everything is matriarchal.

"Whoa," said the male anthropologists who were feeling Threatened™ "we don't like that at all." Which results in a second over-correction back to the insistence that there was nothing matriarchal. If I had to guess, this is the general series of events that found its way into your classroom in the mid 00s.

If you fancy a deep dive into a good example of early feminist anthropology, check out The Gender of the Gift: Problems with Women and Problems with Society in Melanesia by Marilyn Strathern (first published in 1988). Or, if you're not inclined to read the whole thing, just read the very last five pages titled Comparison. Or you can read a review of the book from shortly after it first came out.

Other anthropologists are encouraged to chime in, and especially tell me if I've said something wrong.

-Reid

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Nancy Kwan (The World of Suzy Wong, Flower Drum Song, Tamahine)—Nancy Kwan is my faaaaave like you don't understand!! watching her dance in her beautiful chic boudoir in flower drum song—the GRACE of it, the STUNNING BEAUTY. she is everything i've ever wanted to be and more. theeee most beautiful woman of the 60s i don't care what anyone else says! my queen my icon my legend!!

Rita Hayworth (Gilda, Cover Girl)—Absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. She steals every movie she’s in; she was Fred Astaire’s favorite dance partner, as you can see in clips from their movies [link][link]. Born Margarita Carmen Cansino, Rita's story had its tragedies—her father was awful and had her performing in nightclubs way, way too young; the studio totally remade her look because they were afraid of her hispanic image, putting her through painful treatments and diets; she had a string of failed marriages. But beside all that, I think there's something about Rita that still glows through—an inner beauty that has nothing to do with the studio, or the men who pinned their dreams on her. Rita brings an incandescence to roles that's impossible to replicate, and was truly a great actress in that she could switch from herself—shy Margarita—into a bold and glamorous femme fatale so convincingly everyone fell in love with her as Gilda. She's my favorite movie star, and I think she was a beautiful human through and through—Rita, gorgeous and real and shining bright.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Nancy Kwan:

"askgdshadlg women"

"2 Golden Globes. Was in 15 movies to 1970 and many more after."

"have you seen her? she’s beautiful and love her so much. she also did ballet before acting."

"She was one of the few Asian American starlets of her time, she is graceful beautiful and she had to work a lot at making it big under the circumstances (20th century Hollywood)"

"Ok, this is super niche, but movies for Asian American girls growing up in the 80s was limited. Nancy Kwan is really freaking gorgeous and, while her character in Flower Drum Song is problematic nowadays (i heard she cried when asked to do the lingerie scenes), having an Asian American woman on screen with her own prerogative+agency was formative."

64.media.tumblr.com

Mary Pickford:

Rita Hayworth:

Do you need any other propaganda? Here’s the video.

She was not called "the love goddess" for nothing: beautiful, glamorous, despite playing sexy and provocative roles her inherent shyness somehow also would shine through sometimes, creating this contradictory and incredibly attractive image

Often played "the bad girl" who tempted the male hero away from "the good girl"; but did have roles that broke her out of that mold. She was also the inspiration for Jessica Rabbit. THE pinup girlie.

HELP

She was soo beautiful when she was young and she MAINTAINED that beauty into her later years and I think that old lady glamour is hot. bombastic sex appeal

every line she delivers in gilda is so flirty and passionate or absolutely desolate and it's so good

I just have a lot of feelings about her

[elbiotipo]

Honestly surprised the rest of south America doesn't hate Brazil. We were such pieces of shit in the 19th century lol. Constantly installing puppet governments in Uruguay and Argentina, killing 80% of Paraguay's male population, etc. Real empire stuff lol

It was a big deal between the mid XIX and early XX century, the Argentina-Brazil rivalry today is mostly fútbol but back then it was a real geopolitical thing (see the South American Dreadnought Race, one of the stupidest episodes of the continent). I'm not sure when the modern sense of Latin American unity started to develop (since the idea predates independence) but I think it was in the period of relative peace in the XXth century. Perón is one of the first Argentine leaders of note who especifically talks about an union with Brazil to overcome imperialism.

When I look back at the sad mess that was the XIX century and the wars of independence and "national organization" it only reinforces my belief that you can't understand Latin American history without taking it as a whole. Brasil intervened in Argentina, Argentina intervened in Brasil, Chile with Bolivia and Perú, Colombia with the Caribbean, and all with the interventions of the European powers (IIRC Spain tried to invade Perú as late as the 1840s) and the US, it's all connected.

[moonbaby26]

As we know, Oda made the original seven warlords all animal themed. With Doflamingo -duh- being a flamingo 🦩💖. But in this post I wanted to add the additional reasons I find it funny that my favorite warlord is indeed, a bird. Because most birds are chaotic, evil trainwrecks if you didn’t know! Do not be fooled by their elegant propaganda of the American bald eagle, peacock, and such.

Far more bird species are of the hissing/unpredictable/possessive/oversexed/homicidal/drama queen variety.

And as part of my example, I will be introducing my pet cockatiel! He is a male, lutino color variant. I took him to the avian vet recently to get a quick nail trim (he treats my arm like a bloodied ski slope with his little feet razors otherwise).

The likeness is uncanny, right? Spiked up blond hairdo and all. 🤣

But here is my rambling list below of why Doflamingo fits the bird theming beyond just his aesthetics. Note, all species are different. These are just generalities.

1. Birds are needy, attention whores. Realistically, this comes from wanting the attention and safety of their flock. And my bird gets plenty of out of cage time with us. But oh my god, sometimes if he hears me so much as sneeze and he can’t see me…WHY AM I IN THE HOUSE, BUT NOT WITH HIM!? WHY!? RED ALERT. He starts flock calling for me, and I must respond with at least a whistle or he will begin screaming. Because surely, someone must be murdering me if I don’t come to him immediately.

2. They are complete horndogs. Seriously, everyone thinks humping inappropriate things is a male dog exclusive problem. Nope. There are professional bird behaviorists that people literally pay to come teach them how to calm their pet birds’ sexual aggression and the nightmare that can become. You have to be mindful of how you interact with them, lest they start thinking YOU are their mate and begin attacking anyone else in the house who is not you. Because they are jealous. So jealous. I only pet/preen my bird on his head. As that is perfectly platonic flock behavior. But touching anywhere else (back or chest for example) can make them think it’s sexy time. Male birds will hump the utter hell out of “favorite” objects. Birds kept with others must be monitored that no one is getting ganged up on. But it happens in the wild too. Female ducks need pepper spray or self defense classes. I’ll just leave it at that.

3. They are murderous/violent, and easily overstimulated. So my bird weighs around 80 grams give or take. As an adult human, he’s not going to take me down anytime soon. But if he wanted to, he likely could bite me hard enough to go to the bone. He never has truly bitten me, but I watch his body language. He runs up wanting to be petted. Or sits on me long enough that he falls asleep. He likes to be together, but always on his terms. If I touched him too much, or when he didn’t want it, he’d definitely bite me. People have lost eyes to larger birds. People have had to have reconstructive surgery from parrot bites. They can crush whole nuts in their beak. So what do you think they’ll do to your face when they are sitting on your shoulder and suddenly get triggered (which they very easily are)? Humans have been drowned by swans. And forget it when it comes to something like the Cassowary. You’re already dead if they really wanted you to be.

4. They are opportunistic. Oh look, more murder! People think only birds of prey are the true meat eaters. But a pelican would eat you if it thought it could swallow you. Even the smallest birds have been observed killing other birds and small mammals if they can. Food is food. They are not cute to their victims. They are survivalists. No mercy. Ever. Some baby birds actually eat their own nestmates if one sibling is stronger than the others (sorry Rosi, there really was a precedent for that 😰).

5. They are territorial. And still more murder! In my own yard we have birdhouses made for Eastern bluebirds. They’re a species that legit benefits from human intervention as bluebirds will only nest in cavities, which they have less of now because of deforestation and competition with non native species taking said cavities. Non native species (for the US anyway) of the European house sparrow in particular. House sparrows are tiny. Smaller than a bluebird. But they will slaughter a bluebird family. All over territory during breeding season. They enter the bluebird nest and will peck even the adult bluebirds to death if they can catch them on the nest. They killed a male bluebird of ours this way. Now we put up “sparrow spookers” on our active bluebird nests once eggs are in the box. It’s just mylar streamers that blow in the wind, and the sparrows are afraid to fly through it. But every breeding season we have to go through this again. Basically Riku dynasty versus Donquixote dynasty in our backyard with the invading house sparrows.

And I could go on and on really, about greed, mood swings, vanity, etc. But you get the idea now. Murder, sex, and bright plumage. Heavy emphasis on the murder especially. He really is a bird in every sense of the word. 😅

Edit: Oh! And I forgot grudges! Some birds will hold a grudge for ages. Just ask a crow. I thought my bird would be over my betrayal of the vet visit by today. Nah. He’s still pissed. He won’t come to me right now. He fakes me out to offer my hand to him, then says, nah, bitch! And opens his mouth like he rather bite. It’ll be a few days I guess. 🤣 Never betray a Donquixote!

[evidence-based-activism]

women have a significantly higher rate of abusing children than men do.

They do not. I have discussed this at length in this post. Relevant portion copied below (see post for sources):

---

No women do not abuse children more.

You said "Women abuse children more", but this is an oft-repeated statement from terribly misinterpreted data.

The misconception comes from data from the child maltreatment report from the HHS [5]. This report looks at reports of child abuse and neglect. In it they found that 52% of victims had a female perpetrator and 47% had a male perpetrator. At first glance, this looks like women abuse more children (hence the wide-spread misinterpretation), however this neglects to take several things into consideration.

First, since about 51% of the population is female, even if we considered nothing else, these values would suggest parity in maltreatment (abuse + neglect) rates. Of course, even this interpretation is deeply flawed, but I thought it merited pointing out.

Second, and perhaps most important, these stats are not looking at incidence or even prevalence rates. This isn't a rate at all. For example, you may be tempted to interpret these as "52% of children in a women's care are abused" or "52% of women abuse children". These are, and I must stress this, completely incorrect interpretations. These stats say only that of child maltreatment (abuse+neglect) victims identified by CPS, 52% of them were maltreated by a women.

Next, these stats fail to take into account the fact that many more women are the primary caretaker of children. According to the American Time Use Survey (ATUS), mothers spend 80% more time caring for children than fathers. This disparity widens even further when you exclude the "entertainment" categories like playing or reading to children (130% increase, or more than double) [6]. This matters because it provides some insight into how rates of abuse would be different. You need to adjust for time spent with children to get a meaningful rate. Another way to look at this is that despite mothers spending almost twice the amount of time around children as fathers, they account for the same number of perpetrators. This alone should tell you that a child is more likely to be safe in the company of a randomly selected woman than a randomly selected man.

In case you still aren't convinced however, the report also clarifies that the perpetrator sex varied widely by maltreatment type. Women were the perpetrator in 58.5% of neglect cases (vs 41%) and 70.5% of medical neglect cases (vs 29%). But men were the perpetrator in 49.5% of physical abuse cases (vs 49%), 89% of sexual abuse cases (vs 8%), and 59% of emotional abuse cases (vs 41%). While no form of child maltreatment is ever acceptable, I hope I don't need to explain how abuse (which "requires an action") is different from neglect (which "occurs from an inaction") and requires different responses.

Speaking of neglect: there is much discourse on how much of the neglect (and medical neglect) registered by CPS is "true neglect" and how much is a result of poverty. This is particularly relevant considering single mothers are much more likely to live in poverty than married couples or single fathers. Examples of this may include: a mother doesn't have enough money to buy food and pay for rent so she and her child eat very little until her next paycheck, a single mother can't miss work without being fired so she sends her sick child to school, a single mother can't pay for child care so she has to choose between leaving her child home alone or having an unfit adult (her own abusive parent? an unsuitable boyfriend?) watch her child. In all of these situations, something absolutely needs to be done to help the child, but it likely isn't the same something as a child who's being beaten or sexually abused by his father.

Other notes on neglect: even the relatively higher proportion of female perpetrators for neglect and medical neglect in this sample are well below parity when adjusted for time spent with the child. It’s also likely that men’s rates of neglect are likely severely under-reported here. Why? Because a neglect case is rarely (if ever) opened for absentee ("deadbeat") dads; it's also unclear how many men with non-primary custody are listed as perpetrators of neglect. (I ask you: if mothers are considered neglectful for failing to intervene on behalf of their child in abusive/neglectful situations, why aren't fathers?)

Other studies on child abuse perpetration (sadly no national reports) show:

Evaluations of child fatalities in Missouri over a 8-year period showed men inflicted 71% of fatal injuries on young children [8]

Evaluations of fatal and nonfatal abusive head trauma over a 12-year period at the Children's Hospital of Denver found 69% of the perpetrators were male (including 74% of the perpetrators of fatal head traumas) [9]

Data from conviction rates and victimization surveys suggest that 4-5% of adult, child sex offenders (as in child sex offenders who are adults) are female, meaning that 95-96% are male [10]

Altogether, this indicates that men are more likely to abuse a child in their care than women. Unsurprisingly, it’s safer for children to be around women than around men.

[ficandkaboodle]

I do wonder, though, if another reason (I headcanon) Copia doesn’t think he’s attractive is because he doesn’t meet the male beauty standards that were popular when he was growing up. In the 70s, slim men was where it was at. All the better to jam their flat asses into those tight little pants. And by the 80s, they went the other way with it by advertising real muscle men that were more top-heavy.

At the very least, this was how it was in America but I headcanon Copia grew up watching mostly American media and that would’ve morphed his perception of what a good-looking man ought to be.

Obviously, he wasn’t always physically like this but he’s likely always had a bit more of a “geek physique”. Add in his sharp nose, hair that was thick but couldn’t necessarily grow in the more fashionable ways, and some freckles, and he probably felt the only interesting thing about him was his left eye.

It puzzles him to learn that nowadays, a man with junk in his trunk and a soft tummy is hugely desirable in many spaces. He’s just so used to the pendulum never swinging in his favor. It also took him way longer to realize also that awkward “rodent men” were becoming more of a thing in recent years.

He still can’t quite wrap his head around it and accept it. Still assumes most of the “attraction” directed at him is superficial. Y’know, rather than the fact he’s actually quite adorable, awkward, oozes sex appeal by his confidence and actions, and also has one of the perkiest booties around.

He’s so oblivious, I could bite a wall —

[femmescripter]

Medley of Maxley Headcanons

Greetings, all! It's been a long time since I've made an original post. So I wanted to make one for a favorite old pairing I enjoy that's been making a resurgence. A collection of all my Maxley headcanons. I hope that you enjoy them! Species Headcanons Max is a Labradoodle, a designer crossbreed between a Labrador Retriever and a Standard/Miniature Poodle. Along with being great family companions they're known for being great service dogs. Both breeds are in the Sporting Group and are water retriever dogs. He gets his Labrador Retriever side from Goofy and his Standard Poodle side from his late mother. I picked this breed for Max because both breeds have loppy ears, black fur and outgoing personalities. Bradley is a Saluki, a purebred dog that originally comes from the Fertile Crescent region of the Middle East. It is well known for its hunting prowess and hunts by sight rather than scent, making it a sighthound. Additionally in Islamic culture it is the only dog that's described as being clean. I picked this dog for Bradley because the common fur coloring for the breed and its background as a hunting dog fits his personality and overall look. It's also used as a mascot for the Southern Illinois University Carbondale varsity athletic teams, called the Southern Illinois Salukis. And being the athlete that he is just made it an even more perfect choice for Bradley.

Regular Headcanons Bradley, being the Alpha male type that he is, will howl at Max when he walks by to tease him. The first time he did it Max whipped around to slap him out of instinct. Bradley barely dodged it but still likes to tease the cute freshman by howling at him. Now Max just rolls his eyes at the senior. Although he can't deny that he blushes a bit whenever Bradley does it.

Max likes pop music, which surprises a lot of people as he comes off as an alternative music type. And recently he's gotten into city pop(Japanese 70's/80's pop songs). So Bradley takes Max on a surprise trip to Japan to attend a live city pop concert.

Max is a chili head, and Bradley tries to eat a super-hot Serrano pepper chili to impress him. Even in spite of the fact that he has the spice tolerance of a two-year old. It goes about as well as you think. But Max is there with a nice, triple chocolate fudge ice cream cone and gives the Uppercrust a kiss for effort.

Bradley is very possessive and dangerously protective of Max. He does not tolerate anyone who's not part of Max's inner circle touching his freshman. Once at a party a guy tried to get handsy with Max when Bradley turned his head for a moment. Max tried to make the guy back off for his own sake - but it was too late. Bradley already had the creep out on his ear. For the rest of the party Bradley keeps Max sitting in his lap. And even as they leave, he carries Max all the way back to his dorm.

Before either of them enters a skating contest, Max and Bradley always rub noses for good luck. It was a little intimate tradition of theirs that started by accident when they bumped into each other - and their noses touched. Bradley quite liked the sensation, and Max finds it cute how the Uppercrust is a secret romantic. So they started rubbing noses for good luck.

Bradley likes to watch 70's/80's Saturday morning cartoons(i.e. Transformers Generation 1 and G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero), but he never told anyone until he started dating Max. When he told him the Labradoodle started watching the cartoons with Bradley - also having an interest in them. Max even got Bradley a collector's edition action figure from a favorite cartoon of his for his birthday. It was then that Bradley knew he wanted Max to be the new Mr. Uppercrust.

Whenever Bradley is upset he'll seek out Max to lay his head on his lap, and the Labradoodle rubs his scalp. Doesn't matter if Max is at the library studying, chilling at the park or it's late at night and he's about to go to bed. Bradley will text him that he's mad and Max immediately knows what he needs. He'll tell him where he is and Bradley will come to him and lay his head down on his lap, an angry pout on his face as he lets Max rub his scalp. Cute as this is, professors did have to express to Bradley that this isn't allowed in the middle of a midterm. When Bradley proposed to Max, he told him that there was no pressure or expectation to take his name or even hyphenate it. He's actually come to like the name Goof - and knows how much it means to Max. The Labradoodle found this very endearing of the Saluki to reassure him. However Max did at least want to hyphenate his last name. So, on the day of their wedding, Bradley Uppercrust the 3rd and Maximilian Goof-Uppercrust were wedded.

Max does get jealous over Bradley, but it's a bit more complex. Along with general insecurity Max is an angry jealous type. Not angry at Bradley - but angry at the person who tries to steal him or make light of their relationship either by claiming Max is just a gold digger or Bradley just has his wealth and looks to offer. Max would be rightfully pissed and tell off the person by saying Bradley is more than just some rich guy. He may be an arse, but he's trying to do better. And how it's more than he can say for his peers who go out of their way to be nasty people. And if it's someone trying to steal Bradley he tells them off by saying how trashy it is to go after a guy who's already attached and how they could have all the money in the world and still not buy good taste. Then he storms off. Bradley of course is elated to see his normally sweet Goof show some fire. And he spends that whole week just spoiling him from roses to breakfast in bed. Footnote: Don't panic at that last part ! He had someone else cook!

Bradley has always had an affinity for horror movies, so when a school dance was coming he got on a Scream costume and did the whole "Do you like scary movies" bit with Max and towards the end asked if he wants to be his "final girl". Dork that he is Max giggled and said yes.

Bradley was so nervous about asking Goofy for his permission to date/marry Max he actually gave him a bridal dowry. Let's just say you could rent two thirds of Spoonerville for what Bradley gave. But Goofy was cool about it and said that Bradley has his permission. Although he would like a new fishing rod, and Bradley happily got him a top of the line one.

Max wears a white-tailed suit to give the illusion of a gown as the bride and a veil. Bradley wears a classic black tuxedo as the groom. In place of a garter Max wore an ankle band for Bradley to take off and toss. A very special headcanon for all of you House of Mouse enjoyers! Bradley comes to the club every night Max works and always tips him. None of the Gammas, even Tank, go along with him after the first dozen(well for the other members it was the first three times, for Tank it was the first dozen) times because Bradley so shamelessly fawns over Max in his uniform. Older Disney characters like Aladdin and Hercules try to tell him to just talk to Max…but as the kids say, he fumbles the bag. Often. It takes Pongo doing his old ring around the leash trick to literally bring the two together for it to finally click and they actually get together romantically. Max's pet name for Bradley is dreamboat, while the Saluki's pet name for the Labradoodle is macaron. Max speaks fluent French thanks what he learned from his late mother's side of the family, as she originally hailed from Paris. While he doesn't have an accent per se his voice does change into a distinct tone when he speaks French. And it really gets Bradley in a romantic mood any time Max says so much as "croissant". Bradley's Family Headcanons

Bradley having emotionally/physically abusive parents or even a whole rotten family is getting really tired out. So, I'm going to do what Spongebob said and make aggressively NICE people!

Bradley's father, Bradley Uppercrust the Second or Bradman as to avoid confusion with his father or son, is a successful man and a man about town. He's intelligent, a strong leader and also a family man. However…he's a might uncoordinated. Like very uncoordinated. Like…Well like this fella here. For those who don't know, for reference's sake, this is Inspector Clouseau from the original live action Pink Panther film franchise.

Anyway, Bradley could never understand how in the world his accident/danger prone father got to where he was without offing himself just by walking on air. But if nothing else Bradman has a good head on his shoulders(which is amazing that he can keep it on) and is always there to support his son. However, he does wish that Bradley would tone down the intensity at times. As such Bradman views Max as a true blessing as someone who can keep his son grounded and as much on the straight and narrow as possible. Eloise Uppercrust is a mix of two women. The kind you see in beauty pageants, and the kind you see play as the dangerous femme fatale luring the hero to their doom as she was the villain all along. If Bradley got his smarts and looks from his dad, he definitely got his cunning and athletic prowess from his mom. Eloise is not a woman to trifle with, especially when it comes to her loved ones and career. She's a woman filled with ambition and righteous fury. But she can take a moment to settle and be a peaceful lamb when in the presence of her two most favorite men. When it comes to Bradley's fierce competitive streak Eloise does blame herself as she feels she didn't teach her son that there are times when you should stop and not go overboard. So, when Max comes along and shows himself as being both able to keep up with Bradley and having the willpower to make Bradley stop when he needs to, Eloise immediately approves of her future son-in-law. Mercedes Uppercrust, or Mercy for short, is Bradley's tween younger sister. She's usually reserved by nature but does have a wild side that she lets loose when she gets a burst of excitement. Mercy is very close to Bradley but felt that she was losing touch with him after he got more involved with the X-Games and felt that he was more focused on being the champion than he was being a person. And, by extension, being her big brother. So when Max came into the picture and began to help Bradley get on the road to the redemption Mercy looked up to the Labradoodle as a hero. A child prodigy in her own right, Mercedes has a predilection for all things music and cooking. Her favorite instrument to play is the harp and she greatly enjoys baking. And when she learned that Max is a culinary arts major and likes to listen to music Mercedes told Bradley not to blow it with him. Bradley Uppercrust the First, or Grandfather Lee, may be an older gentleman but he has a sharp mind and a strong spirit. Being the doting family man that he is Grandfather Lee loves his son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren very much. When it comes to Bradley he wants nothing more than for him to find the person that he wants to be and for him to be happy in his choice, rather than trying to continue what he thinks is a legacy his grandfather is trying to set up. Grandfather Lee actually takes a great liking to Max as his bright spirit reminds him of his dear late wife. And as it happens the oldest Uppercrust has a rather surprising past that not even Bradley was fully aware of. In his youth, Grandfather Lee was a vocal coach who taught the one and only Powerline. And he was actually backstage when Max and Goofy got on stage with the singer at his concert all those years ago to provide support for his old student. So, in a way, Max has actually "met" Bradley's family early on. Suffice to say - Grandfather Lee gives Max his blessing. Max is a Gamma AU Headcannon

Deciding that he wanted Max apart of the Gammas more than anything, Bradley begrudgingly agreed to let P.J. and Bobby join the Mu Mu fraternity as well. So the freshmen all joined in with the Gammas for the X-Games. And before long Max pretty much became the den mother of the bunch. Having lived with a single dad Max knows about how to run a house and clean. Even though his aloof, free-spirited nature would have you thinking otherwise. He listens to the other Gamma members and talks to them when they need a sympathetic ear. And he knows how to cook actual food, which has certainly worked to strengthen the bonds of brotherhood. Max's kind nature has also helped Bradley chill out. So much that this year he decides not to cheat for the X-Games. Mainly because he knows how disappointed Max would be if he found out.

At some point when Goofy arrives at the college, though, Bradley does feel compelled to come clean to Max about not always having been the nicest guy(understatement) but quickly adds that Max made him want to change. Of course Max is disappointed like he expected him to be. He even contemplates quitting the team. But eventually he's just glad that Bradley decided not to cheat this time - and tells him he'll stay if he puts in the work to win the competition fairly. Bradley does so, and the Gammas do win. It doesn't take much after that before Max and Bradley start dating, and the king soon lands himself a freshman consort.

[alexanderwales]

"His favorite movie is American Psycho, which is so on brand for him," snorted Quinn.

"Um," said Lucy. "I don't know what that means. You're saying it like it's a bad thing, but American Psycho is a critique of consumer culture, empty status symbols, and 80s excess and materialism."

"Well," said Quinn. "I mean, sure, yeah, fine, but it's also about a guy killing a bunch of women and a few men, and I don't think that all that other stuff is why he likes it." He folded his arms. "Like I just mean, American Psycho is like ... that's him."

"Okay, so you're doing that thing where you're acting like enjoying a piece of media that criticizes something means you're endorsing the thing it criticizes because it uses depictions of that thing. It's like saying that someone who loves 1984 must be in favor of totalitarianism." Lucy leaned forward. "The whole point of the movie is that Patrick Bateman is pathetic. He's not a cool antihero, he's a hollow shell of a human, riddled with anxiety about his place in a world that does not care about him or the other people like him. The movie is making fun of him, constantly. He's pretentious, insane, ridiculous."

"I mean, sure," said Quinn. "Right. The violence and degrading sexualization is meant to be disturbing. But that doesn't mean that everyone in the audience gets that, and it definitely doesn't mean that Ethan gets it. There's a thing that you can do when you're writing and directing a movie where you make the critique too subtle for people who need a brick to the face, and they end up embracing it, or where you don't believe in the critique enough and end up giving a mild endorsement to the thing you're supposedly criticizing, or worse, where you just use the veil of criticism to show a lot of transgressive and shocking things, which are the real point. And you can see that, right, where American Psycho is at least partly a base male fantasy of power, control, and wanton violence."

"I mean sure," said Lucy. "Except that American Psycho was written and directed by two women."

"Based on a novel written by a man," said Quinn.

"Sure, but I don't think that Bret Easton Ellis endorsed Bateman, he also thought that he was a pathetic character," said Lucy.

"I mean the point I'm trying to make is that an artist can't control the way their message impacts the audience," said Quinn. "And in many cases, the audience experience of the transgressive is rooted in that transgression, which is what draws them in, disconnected from any intended critique."

Lucy shook her head. "What were we talking about?"

"Ethan," said Quinn. "And how he's a dickhead."

"Right," said Lucy. "And he's one of the people that's going to die to a slasher tonight if we're not able to stop that from happening, except that the ripples through time of stopping any of this from happening might mean that I'm never born."

~~~~

Yes, that's right gentle reader, you've been reading Time Cut (2024) fanfic all along! There was this one line about American Psycho that bothered me, it's a movie that earned its 5/10 on IMDB.

[kedreeva]

Hi! I went through your FAQ and didn't see a direct answer this this, but how do you go about actually obtaining a peafowl? How much do they usually cost per bird?

Up front, I can only speak to USA practices, so if you live elsewhere the answer may not be the same.

I'll answer the second part first since it's "easier," or maybe I should say, slightly more concrete, and the answer is: it depends on what you want, and how capable you are of caring for it. I have seen day old blues from backyard breeders go for as little as $15, but unless you really have a handle on what to expect and how to care for them, you will almost certainly be responsible for the death of a day old peachick and waste the money. I have watched an online auction for an ultramarine yearling go for $6,800, but that's because that was a newly imported color from Europe that no one else had. A green - a true, pure green, not an American green that's actually a high green blood hybrid - will run you $5-10k depending on where you import from or who you're buying from that's imported themselves and tracked lineage. An American green will still run you a couple thousand, but more like $2k than $6k. Your average adult blue will run $80-200, but I've watched blue hens go for $400 at auction. Color/pattern mutations will run $150-800 typically, for "common" colors, depending on their quality and whether they're a nice looking hybrid (blue + green species), but I've seen nice morphs go for $35 at auction. I say this because auctions can be great on some days and terrible on others and you would need to know average prices for the color and/or pattern you want, to know if you're getting a deal or getting hosed.

But regardless of a $15 chick or an $800 silver pied platinum Spalding, the expense on them actually comes mainly from the cage- the minimum (and I do mean minimum literally not pretty owners of YouTube outrageous claim of minimum), flight pen size is 500 square feet with no side shorter than 12 feet long (to accommodate trains and allow the birds past you without injuring themselves, and 8 feet tall to allow for a 5-6 perch the males can get on to clean their trains. Every bird must also have 150sq/ft, so 500 will hold 3, but not 4, you'd need 600 for 4. But with peafowl, bigger is better- the more space they have to move around (and thus away from you) the closer they are willing to come to you, because they feel like they can safely get away again. The minimum size is also not optional if you want to maintain healthy birds- they're extremely susceptible to parasites and bacteria often found in raw soil, and even to just... Getting dirt in their face and getting infected sinuses. Minimizing their ability to access dirt by growing in grass and cover crop plants like clover is the single greatest step you can take to protect their health. And this doesn't even include the coop, which is minimum 8x8x6 to protect them and their trains. With the price of lumber, wire, and netting, this will easily run you a few thousand, but it's by far the safest way to keep them, especially the hens, who otherwise tend to get eaten by predators when they set a nest while free ranging. It's also the only way to ensure they don't just leave, because they are game fowl like pheasants, not like chickens, and you can't just toss them in the yard and expect they'll stay. Occasionally they do, but largely they don't.

To answer your first question... It depends on where you live. Most USA states have livestock auctions and bird swap meets- your best bet to acquire local birds is to find those but how to find them... Well. You kind of just have to luck upon them or hope a web search turns them up, if they're even advertised online, on publicly accessible places. There are bigger breeders around the USA that will ship birds if you're looking for something specific you can't find locally, but you'll be looking at a $350+ shipping bill. You can join peafowl groups on Facebook and try to find locals, or contact the UPA (United peafowl association) to get a breeder directory but that's only people who have paid to be in the club, which honestly doesn't do much anymore. You can also, if you know of one breeder, ask if they know other breeders. A good breeder should at least be able to say 'if I don't have what you're looking for, you can try this other person/people.' alternately there's ebay and craigslist, although I wouldn't trust the former because you can only sell eggs, and peafowl hatching eggs are a big fucking waste of money, typically speaking. They're extremely finicky eggs to hatch and most people prefer to let broodies hatch when they can, because they don't hatch well in incubators.

[nochd]

This came across my dash via the #lgbt tag yesterday. I don't want to engage with the OP because that would get me into fights on radfem tumblr and I don't have the energy for that. But the post itself I think is worth answering, just because it's so neatly and exactly wrong.

(Not that my answer is going to spread very far, because I have 37 non-bot followers, of whom I think roughly 35.5 are just here for the nude photos. But anyway.)

Even if I agree just for argument's sake that the existence of intersex people proves that some people can have "nonbinary" sexes, or "third" sexes, and that "sex is a spectrum," how does that have any relevance to people who are not intersex? Like okay, let's "agree" for the moment that intersex people are something other than male or female. How does that make YOU, as a person who is not intersex, something other than male or female? Saying that intersex people's existence somehow makes sex "complicated" for you specifically is like saying that the issue of whether or not you can hear is "complicated" because some other people who are not you suffer from hearing loss or deafness. Like sorry but for 99% of the human population it is not "more complicated" than born with perfectly normal male genitalia = male and born with perfectly normal female genitalia = female, and chances are you fall into that 99%. Sex is not a social construct or a nebulous enigma of a concept. It is not debatable and made up in the manner that gender is. You cannot philosophize about whether there are two sexes any more than you can philosophize about whether humans have two kidneys. Someone having a missing or malformed kidney or accessory kidneys does not change the fact that humans as a species have two kidneys. Humans are gonochoric just like nearly all other animal species on Earth.

Let's start with the arithmetic. If 99% people are of binary sex, that leaves 1% of people who aren't. There are approximately 8 billion humans on Earth. 1% of 8 billion is 80 million -- about sixteen times the population of my entire country. Even just the number of intersex Americans is something like two-thirds the population of my country. This is not a negligible number of people.

There's a deeper error here, one that goes to the root not just of this misunderstanding but of many. Biology is always complicated, at every scale and at every level of explanation. It's messy, it's fuzzy, and it's always bottom-up, never top-down. Everything biological is the way it is because it grew that way. Biology never does the same thing twice.

Why does it seem like it does? Because, of all the ways you can arrange the parts of a living body, only an astonishingly tiny fraction of them actually make a living body. Any genetic mutation that nudges an organism outside of that fraction dies out and doesn't get passed on. Embryonic development is a gruelling tight-rope walk over a vast pit of non-existence.

Now for most of the body's systems, evolution has only had to produce one arrangement that works and survives. There's not an alternative plumbing plan where the oesophagus goes to the lungs and the trachea to the stomach. But for the reproductive system, evolution has to allow for two arrangements that work and survive, and it has to grow them both from the same starter kit.

What it does, therefore, is grow a body plan that works with a continuum of possible arrangements that includes both of those two. Various other points on the continuum may or may not be capable of producing viable gametes, but they're all survivable.

What biology doesn't do -- what biology never ever does -- is run new products on a conveyor belt stamping them into shape with cookie-cutters. The only things made that way are artificial constructs.