#jokes about male dominated fields

[oriyamiryu]

“Field Dressing” linoleum relief printed on an offset press (mailander my beloved beast)

[i-bring-crack]

I fucking love the necklace of gold flies bc it really do be a fucking Menance trophy

"Oh you annoyed the enemy so badly? Congrats you are the fly queen now, mom."

[strrykais]

ඞ control alt + love (📱, 📖)(M)

being a girl in the world of gaming is hard, that's why you've kept your identity a secret. after years of intense grinding, you have earned the title of the strongest mage player in the non-professional server. gaining the attention of an esports team they extend an invitation for you to join as their mid-solo.

having to overcome the fear of being a girl in the male dominated field, you come to learn maybe defeating boys - or specifically a certain boy - is something you could get used to.

gamer!seungmin x fem-gamer!reader

rating : (M) - mature

genre : humor, strangers to slight enemies to friends to lovers, esports au, slow burn

warnings : profanity, sex jokes, death jokes, gaming, mature content, fictional game, slight you x jeongin if you squint

notes : gonna be honest with you chat... i know nothing about esports but after further research i know just about the same as i did before research so :) also in this world the guys are very silly with their fans on twitter!

status : finished

updates : n/a

taglist : closed

profiles (1) | profiles (2)

1 - that blonde lesbian 2 - playing dumb is hyunjin’s job (half written) 3 - mind your manners 4 - so far up their ass 5 - bullying kids on roblox 6 - put your boner away 7 - sad and wet rn 8 - im not bella swan 9 - lwk kinda sexual 10 - kitty whisper 11 - not a team player 12 - balls to the face (half written) 13 - sleep with jeongin 14 - trying to be marilyn monroe rn 15 - she gives crazy.. yk 16 - lets go home 17 - held at gunpoint 18 - douchebag jar 19 - seungmin is gonna have my ass 20 - i need you out there yn 21 - GAY FOLKS ONLY 22 - country bumpkin 23 - daddy is reserved for seungmin 24 - I HAVE SEX 25 - promise (written) 26 - shooters shoot 27 - you buffoon 28 - big booty bitches 29 - where do you want it? (written, smut) 30 - you wanking??? 31 - murder-suicide 32 - the girlfriend effect 33 - like a pixar lamp 34 - meow meow meow 35 - its going in my throat tonight 36 - ANVK's princess 37 - the trial of hwang hyunjin 38 - is friendly fire active yes or no? 39 - true victory 40 - always having a freak off

extras: 1. something about sub seungmin does things to me

[fraugwinska]

I tried my hands on an Human!Alastor fic ;> It's still very different to write for Human Al, but I hope y'all like it ;> Special thanks to @hurthermore for beta-reading and encouraging me <3 This one's for you, love! !! NSFW - Heavy Smut Ahead, Minors DNI - 6k words !!

„You need technical assistance, sir?“

Alastor looked up from the papers on his desk, adjusting his glasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose. He didn't expect her to come in this late, or at all, not while he was still at the station. The curious little sound engineer that had started half a year ago was standing at his office entrance, hands in the pockets of her outrageous trousers. She was tiny, her small figure barely filled the door frame, even with her bulky tool bag that hung from her shoulders. Alastor leaned back in his seat, folding his hands, focusing his tired gaze on her defensive expression.

She was a novelty, that one. Not the first woman working at the station of course, but the first to assert herself in the male-dominated field of technical engineering. Her male colleagues saw the spunky, brass girl as a joke, either ignoring her or trying (very amateurishly) to bed her – both which didn't faze her at all meeting both scenarios with the same contemptuous indifference. The women – secretaries, errand girls and concierges – were much more organized and refined in their bullying. Shortly after her arrival rumors had already spread, one more abstruse than the other, and they had collectively decided to pretend the engineer didn't exist in their periphery. More than once he witnessed her talking to his own secretary Ruth, just to be left standing while Ruth got up and walked out with the other girls to lunch in the middle of her sentence.

The little engineer took it all in stride, though. Never complained, never became outright disrespect- or revengeful. Gradually, her expressions steeled, her answers shortened and her work hours shifted to evenings or nights, with less people to run into.

Alastor had been fascinated by her the moment they first met. He had just started his usual 'Saturday Golden Hour', his favorite and most popular segment to host, broadcasting the newest releases of jazz and swing in the evening, just before sundown. Not even ten minutes in, right after he started playing Bing Crosby's new song 'Dancing in the Dark', listeners started calling the station by the handful, complaining about horrific feedback's and sudden blackouts. While Alastor watched Rufus Ellis, the head of the tech team, frantically run around, yelling at his workers, the little engineer had wordlessly grabbed a few tools and vanished. Five minutes later, his broadcast went back to working perfectly, sound crisp and quality flawless once again. She had returned, put back the tools from where she had taken them, and when Ellis – flabbergasted – asked her what she had done, she had calmly explained that she went up on the roof to check the transmitters connected to the radio tower and fixed a broken generator that had malfunctioned due to some doves nesting in it.

No one thanked or even acknowledged her, they just shrugged and went back to business as usual. But Alastor didn't forget, and from this day he was determined to find out more about this extraordinary girl. She reminded him of his own struggle as the exception to the rule – it was a well-kept secret throughout the station exactly what Alastor looked like and who he was. That was the only reason he was able to do what he felt was born to, a cruel, unfair compromise. So, he felt an unusual sympathy for her, in addition to just his natural curiosity for oddities. However, he didn't expect her to be so elusive.

Whenever he tried to engage her in a conversation, she gave short, finite responses, avoided his eyes and hurried to get away from him, sometimes even bordering on rudeness in her haste to flee from him. Alastor was, to be frank, perplexed - his charm usually drew in the ladies unwantedly. That it had failed him now, with the little engineer, when he welcomed it for a change? Peculiar. To a degree, it angered him, but it also awakened his hunting instinct, just not the one he was used to.

“I'm afraid so, dear.”, Alastor smiled, standing up. He rounded his desk, hands behind his back, and went to her side, looking down a t her. Granted, he was a tall man, but next to her, he felt almost gigantic, which satisfied him in a strange way. “I noticed my microphone was acting up today, and would like you to take a look at it, if you don't mind. Before it decides to give up on me mid-broadcast.”

“That's my job, sir.”, she just answered, eyes intensely staring at the carpet. Alastor's eyebrow twitched in slight aggravation. But he lead her to his booth, unlocking it to let her in. She went straight to his seat, dropping her tool bag next to it and started to pull his microphone to her to inspect it. He quietly closed the door, locking it discreetly – just as a precaution so she couldn't flee him again so easily, now that he finally had her in his vicinity.

Alastor walked over to her, leaning over her shoulder to watch her carefully taking the device apart. She startled when she saw him out of the corner of her eyes. “It may take a while, sir.”, she mumbled, an obvious attempt to make him leave. Alastor laughed. “I've got nowhere to be, dear, take your time.”, he said with a hint of mischievous delight. He heard her scoff, turning back to her work. There was a prolonged silence, her fiercely ignoring Alastor's quiet, content humming while her fingers picked apart and put together parts and cables. He used the time to analyze her appearance – her hair was smooth but more unkempt than for a girl her age – how old must she be? Twenty, maybe Twenty-one? Vanity surely wasn't a flaw of hers, she didn't wear much make-up and Alastor saw various faint, light scars on her arms and hands, little bookmarks of mishaps and failures of her chosen career – the sight of them sent a sick shiver down his spine. Given his... hobbies, he found twisted appeal in scarred skin, finding beauty in those white, shimmering lines where blood once dripped from. He roamed her supple, curved body – unlike the recent fad of skinny, androgynous frames she was built womanly, round and fleshy... how beautiful could he paint her with white streaks on this vast canvas, add some masterpieces of his own to the collection?

“Alright.”, she pulled him out of his thoughts, mounting the microphone back on it's flexible stand. “A few cables were starting to corrode, I've replaced them, it should work fine now.” Alastor grinned down at her, putting one of his hands on her shoulder. The first real contact. “What an efficient engineer you are, dear. Always coming to my rescue, I have yet to show my gratitude.” She didn't look up, didn't even acknowledge that he said something to her, just packing up the various things she had spread out for the repair. Now that was just rude.

“Hello? Is this thing on?”, Alastor strained himself to sound lighthearted as he knocked two times on her head, feeling the shivers of impatience rising. The engineer closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, shifting in his chair with furrowed brows. “I'm getting paid to do my job. I don't need anything else.” She attempted to stand up, but his hand, still resting on her shoulder, holds her in place. “If that's all, sir?”

“Now now, not to hasty. I'd think it's unlike you to leave work halfway done. Normally you are quite thorough, aren't you?” Alastor cooed, tilting his head at her. “My work is done.” she said, her voice now intense and a faint tint of red on her cheek and neck. My, there's the little ferocity he thought she'd lost at the job. “Why we haven't tested the thing, dear – How can I be sure it works properly?”

“Because I know what I'm doing.” She looked outright offended at the implied possibility that she failed the task he asked of her. He had to chuckle, such a childish reaction to something so innocent. Maybe it was because implications like these grated her thick skin, but Alastor had no problem with being the straw that breaks that camel's back. He was skilled in putting people back in their place, and with her, it would be much more entertaining and much less fatal than with his other... acquaintances. He decided to tickle this sleeping dragon just a bit more, with a funny little idea in mind.

“No one is infallible – especially when they are so young. No fault in that, dear, but I'd like to be sure.” Alastor swiftly grabbed her wrist, pulling her up to stand. Putting up no resistance, most likely because of sheer perplexity, he twirled her almost like in a dance, side-stepping to his chair, and sat down, pulling her onto his lap, locking her there by an arm wrapped around her waist. The look on her face was worth it's weight in gold – eyes wide, mouth agape in stunned shock, and tips of the ears reddened. Her hands grappled the armrests so forcefully her knuckles were as white as the scars on her arms, and within seconds of regaining her active conscience she squirmed against his body. “What... that's so... sir, please let me g...” “There you go, dear.”, Alastor ignored her babbling, using his free hand to put the headphones on her. Her pulse under her thin, clear skin drummed faster against him, it's heat felt like it could boil his own blood.

He grabbed his own microphone, swinging it up between their faces and leaned forward, chin resting on her shoulder and the grille brushing his lower lip. She stared, dumbstruck, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead. He chuckled against her cheek, leaning his mouth to the mic as he pushed the switch on the control panel up, and his rich, sultry baritone echoed in her headphones.

"How about it, darling, do you hear me?"

She breathed deeply, gulping, and her heart sped up even more. Alastor smiled devilishly against her soft skin, delighted and in awe by how far he got her worked up as she just nodded sharply.

"No soundrops, feedback or small interferences?", he hummed, his voice dripping sweet honey. She took a moment to answer. "N-no... everything seems alright."

"Lovely." He almost whispered, but she heard it crystal clear through the headphones. He let a low sigh and took off his glasses with one hand, slowly, teasingly, his nose tracing over her neck, as if it was coincidental, as if he'd never ever do such a thing intentionally, putting the accessory on the table next to him, eyes locking on the hazel ones of hers mirrored in them. "Although I wonder..." He pushed the mic nearer to her mouth, seeing a tremble running over her body. "... if the higher pitches might be a problem... You wouldn't mind help with that, would you?"

She stiffened up, barely daring to breathe, her skin erupting into goose flesh underneath his lips, he felt the impulse to press them against her, lick the salt and nervousness from it.

"Sir, I-I can't.."

He chuckled at her strained, whispering voice. How beautiful was her distress, so rich, so fragrant, almost strong enough for him to savor its essence without even needing to touch her.

"Then, may I assist you?", Alastor felt himself giddy with impish delight, his hands slowly trailing upwards from her waist to her bust, cupping her gently through the thin fabric. This made her wriggle again, a small, high pitched squeak leaving her lips that his microphone just amplified in glorious reverberations. Alastor chuckled darkly as she froze, neck burning red in deep embarrassment from the sound she heard from the headphones.

"Now we're talking. A wonderful first try. But let's see what else we can get out of you, darling. After all, we want to be thorough."

His hands palmed and kneaded the supple flesh through the cotton, feeling her squirm and tremble and the warmth of her bosom, imagining the blood rushing through her heart. How exquisite was she?

He could hear a small whimper as her head slightly lowered. Was she closing her eyes? He imagined it so. Imagined she'd shut her pretty eyes closed, furrow her brows in conflict as her legs pressed against each other in fruitless desperation. Her hands tightened on the armrest.

"You are so very quiet, dear. Why don't you relax and turn the volume up for me?"

With one of his hands he quickly loosened the two buttons that kept her blouse close and tugged at the collar to widen the neck hole, then slid under her brassier and gripped one breast with a tight squeeze. Alastor caught his breath as he realized just how sensitive and sweet the freckled skin under his fingertips was. Soft. Warm. So fragile... He would never have imagined this was hiding under her daily uniform, her sagging shoulders and loose jacket hiding those lovely features. Alastor felt a delightful spark crackle in his head and shoot up the nerves of his spine. His hunting instinct pulsed under the mask. But... with a slight delay, Alastor recognized it as a different type of hunger... one of the carnal and more depraved kind. Another novelty for him.

Alastor suddenly wondered what her lips tasted like, how soft and warm would they feel on his, her teeth biting, her tongue teasing him. How many ways could he break her - and could he do it quickly, with his bare hands, with his words alone maybe, or with his undisciplined arousal pushing against her rear-end through the fabric of his trousers? How often did she think of him? How did she think of him? Did she fear him, or dislike him even? He could hear her breathing hasten as he was trying to compose himself.

There was the devil's urge to just let himself go. To shove the equipment aside and tear those outrageously inadequate clothes away from her flesh, run his hands over the skin he didn't get to see yet, trace and map those scars of hers until they fade underneath his fingers. Mark her more thoroughly than any machine mishap ever could. Make her cry, moan, beg and whine under him until there was nothing left in her and this novel hunger was satisfied.

A wonderfully loud moan escaped her, a sweet, silky, vibrato sound of passion, that went right from Alastor's chest into his pelvis. She opened her eyes wide, pressing her hand firmly over her mouth, mortified at her own pleasure.

Oh, Alastor thought to himself, smiling mischievously as the shock of lustful rapture coursed through him, how easy it was for him to undo her. So unexplored, so fresh... "Do you wish to stop, darling?", he asked with a teasing pinch of her hardened nipple, which made her cry out and her other hand fly up and cover her mouth, too. She shook her head, her cheeks flushed and hot, eyes hazed with confused pleasure. He rubbed and teased the nipple gently in his palm, holding her close, making her struggle in defiant silence. The only sound was his gentle, patient humming.

But oh, she was breaking, crumbling like a stale beignet, and the noises his hand bullied out of her turned from hushed whimpers to barely muffled groans and cries for him, long and wanting 'Sir's and 'Oh's. She was melting under his palm. He grinned wickedly, his lower body hard and wanting against her as he put the microphone to his own lips again and spoke into it.

"Say it with your words, dear, should I stop? Or is it that you can't hear me?"

"Y-yes! I mean... No sir... d-don't... stop." There was a suppressed crack in her voice, and Alastor sighed with lust at her gasping affirmation, grinding against her plushy backside. He has found it amusing to push her limits, break through her thick skin and riddle her, like an ice pick cracking open a glacier. And now it would shatter her so gorgeously. "It's Alastor, darling." He whispered into the microphone with a dragging, sultry voice, his hand retreating from her breast, only to snake it's way to the hem of her pants. Her legs twitched, pushing together to futilely protect her modesty, but her body eagerly arched in a way that gave such easy way for his fingers to slip under the garments, feel and stroke the short, coarse hair, following it's trail, only to meet soft, silken and slippery wetness. A startled gasp escaped her and the only reason she didn't leap up was because Alastor kept his firm grip on her waist, pulling her tight against his throbbing erection. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, exposing her delicate throat as she whimpered, hands flying from her mouth to the armrests again, gripping so hard her fingernails dug into the hard wooden surface.

He tried to restrain himself but couldn't, he testily bit into the thin, soft flesh of her neck as his fingers found their way into her entrance and dipped deep in, coating his palm in generous wetness and crooking, exploring carefully, but with a patience even he was surprised at, eyes fixated on the taut fabric as he thrust into her in tandem with the waves her body undulated at the new sensation, her sweet taste on his tongue.

"S-Sir, please...", she groaned against his hand that still remained pressed over her lips, as if it could suppress the bliss Alastor wrought her into. He withdrew his hand for a moment, fingers wet, glistening and slick, as she was breathless, but she couldn't hide how her hips were chasing his retreating touch. He leaned into the microphone, barely lifting his mouth from her neck.

"Say my name, and I shall listen, little engineer."

She hesitated for just a heartbeat, before opening her eyes, hazily staring at the ceiling as Alastor patiently waited, his fingers drawing idle circles around the sweet pearl on her outer folds. She pressed her lips together for a second, seemingly mentally preparing herself, and then opened her mouth, to give in, to submit to him.

"...A-Alastor, please..."

"I like the sound of my name from your lips, darling." He almost purred in return and resumed his movements with added vigor and focus. He put down his head on her shoulder, nuzzling into the juncture of her throat, watching her reaction and every detail of how his hand worked her over with the rhythmic hump of his hips, forcing him to breathe harshly as he was starting to be deprived of blood. He had barely noticed it, how incredibly erotic and sinful this whole thing felt not just for her, but for him, too. Partly of course, because of the chase, the coaxing, the hunt to have her call and writhe for only him, not for any of these imbeciles that tried to get their pick with her, his ears pricked and eager to savor her wanton sounds... A surprising need to be connected, closer to her than anyone ever could be in her whole life, and it made him even giddy to know no man had touched her like he was doing now, taking her purity with ease and glee.

But there was another part, something he thought slumbered too deep within him to be ever awoken, a roaring fire in his guts as the alluring, delicious scent of her arousal assaulted him like a siren's song, lulling, cajoling him with sensual desires to drown in them, to abandon all else and indulge, to completely give in and surrender. It wasn't tactical, calculating or strategic, but wild and primal and primitive, and not at all as painful or awkward to him as he had always thought it'd be.

What a revelation a woman's body could be.

He almost missed her coming into his eagerly working hand - a sudden, full-body twitch that went through her spine, a whine in her voice that ended in a choked sound as her orgasm claimed her and washed her away in the torrent of rapture - eyes going wide as the air escaped her in a desperate cry, hands gripping his thigh and the chair's armrest so hard the nails left little scratches in the wood. He barely had time to notice it before her climax hit him like a truck - the convulsing of her inner walls, gripping and spasming tightly around his fingers as he slowed and stroke out her high.

This moment was pure madness in his veins - his head foggy and airy, like a drug, like a vicious new addiction he would do almost anything for. Her body went slack against him, and the only thing that held her upright was Alastor's arm still securely around her, still keeping her pressed onto his hard length, still pulsing for some release of his own. Alastor wanted more, already was plotting what his hands could be doing to her body next as she came down from her high and back to earth, the heat leaving her body slowly as the soundproofed air trapped within the booth hung heavy with her hot breath and the smell of her passion.

The first movement of hers, after having come undone so beautifully for and on him, was to lift up the headphones.

"Well then, little engineer.", he huffed into her ear, laughing with barely hidden delight. "What is your final assessment?"

"Your microphone works perfectly. J-just like I said it would." She was determined, if nothing else. And unbearably cute when she was defiant. Alastor simply adored a fiery spirit, even as he was already thirsting for more. He looked up, her sharp tone prickling his pride. He shot her a glare from the corner of his eyes, his usually calm smile tugging upward in a half smirk as she avoided his eyes. Oh, was she starting to have second thoughts about her tone towards him?

"I always admired your work ethics and knowledge, my dear, even though you eluded my attempts to give you your well-deserved recognition." The hand not occupied in playing with her still moist, delicate flesh lifted the arm that she had still buried in his thigh, brushing his fingers lightly over her knuckles as he brought it to his lips. She went still as a stone under his fingertips. "I asked myself, what would be the reason you ignored and evaded me for so long? Do you dislike me that much, little engineering girl?"

"No." It took her a moment, a little quiver in her voice, but it seemed like this was the first time in a long while that her answer was as blunt and truthful. He sighed contentedly, planting a soft kiss on her hand. "Quite the contrary, in fact."

His eyes snapped to her, narrowed. She still refused to look at him, still tense and obviously embarrassed, her free hand trembling on her lap. So it hadn't been animosity that made her behave so coldly towards him, not aversion that made her flee his presence and not prejudice that made her avoid their encounters but...

"Ah." Alastor chuckled softly at her awkward behavior, grinning delightedly at the revelation. "Of course."

Shyness was a curious thing, he thought, often misinterpreted as either prude modesty or cold antipathy. And it seemed Alastor had fallen for the latter interpretation - he would've been miffed at the thought if it hadn't brought her here, into his lap, and into his hands - alas, better late than never, he guessed. And there was still something to take care of.

"Well, since you're not running from me now..." His hand left hers and joined his other one in pulling the belt of her pants open, gently tugging on the metal buckle until the strap slipped free. "Let me finally show my gratitude in kind, for the lovely engineer and her marvelous work."

He loosened his tight grip on her, enough so that he could turn her to face him - for once, she glanced at him from under her lashes, not only out of bashfulness now - but he thought he saw something like cautious anticipation there, too. His grin became even wider as she kept his gaze, even if barely. A last stubborn act of shy rebellion - in another situation it would have enraged Alastor, but now, he was delightfully fascinated and challenged by her stubborn nature, by the unpredictability of her reactions even now, as she herself hooked her fingers under the hem of her pants and pushed them down over her shapely hips.

The last barrier of decency fell between them, revealing the full picture before him - there was her reddened face framed by cascading locks, eyes lowered in embarrassed defeat; Her stiffened nipples prominent on her perky, tight breasts; The damp patch of dark pubic hair that barely hid her glistening privates and the plush roundness of her thighs. And the whole body covered in tiny, white streaks, healed cuts and burns scattered in between her freckles. Oh, she would be delightful to ruin over and over again.

He took a step towards her, his hands immediately moving to her hip, exploring, caressing the soft flesh. This time, she did not move away from his touch and watched him with big, wide-blown eyes, full of expectation and a new type of uncertainty as he lifted her up onto the main control panel. He discarded of his jacket, the cloth too heavy and hot for him now, and threw it aside carelessly, leaving his bow tie hanging loosely around his neck as he went back to the woman, his little prey. Her knees parted slightly when his body wedged between them, an inviting gesture from her, though Alastor suspected she herself didn't notice. He grinned darkly, lifting her chin up by a finger, before bending over and planting a firm but restrained kiss on her lips, feeling his own skin crawl in electric stimulation, eager to finally taste her. His hands made quick work of his slacks, freeing his almost painfully erect member with a pleased sigh. From the way she gasped and her eyes widened, he could easily deduct that she had less to no experience whatsoever.

Oh, what a fortune. Alastor relished the thought of claiming precious, well kept treasures, his breath quickened as he broke from the kiss, hands running over her heated skin in swift, soothing motions, goosebumps trailing in their wake as he felt her shudder with hesitant desire beneath him. Oh, this would be fun.

"Let's be sure you'll hear my message loud and clear, this time, hm?"

He took her mouth again before she could protest, discreetly angling the microphone down with one hand just near enough where she would soon enough be connected to him. With a sly grin, he lined himself up to her waiting entrance and slowly pushed in. She stiffened at the unfamiliar invasion, a mewl muffled against his lips and hands in his shirt, and he stilled, enjoying the way her body reflexively tightened and squeezed around him as she tried to cope with the sensation of him stretching her.

She gasped as her chest heaved from the feeling, her walls convulsing around him like a vice. He allowed a low groan to escape him, she felt so gloriously tight and hot he had trouble keeping his composure, hands twitching to rut into her and just plow through.

"Ready for the final test, darling?"

"T-test...?"

He didn't bother to give her an answer as he started to move. In and out, with slow and drawn out movements, keeping his thrusts shallow at first, deep and precise enough to press against her innermost point and making her moan helplessly. The wet sounds of their coupling reached his ears, coupled with her wanton cries, an obscene and enchanting noise he was waiting for. With a mischievous smile, he picked up the headphones from where she had put them down, lifting it to one of her ears. Her face flushed in such lovely shades of red when the squelching echoes of what the mic picked up reached her ears, amplified and oh-so-clear thanks to her own handiwork.

He let out a guttural chuckle as he leaned into her, still thrusting slowly, her head falling on his shoulder and hanging onto his shirt for dear life, knuckles white as she could hear all the sweet sounds their bodies made and how they connected, each inch of her body singing praises for only him, for his size and rhythm. He could tell the moment her walls began to relax around him, squeezing the blood into his member as she took him in again and again, accepting it's size wholeheartedly with greedy eagerness.

"Such a talented woman.", he praised into her free ear, sighing at the delicious way her slick, swollen lips slid over his length, her thighs twitching against his with every single thrust and every word that fell from his lips. "Just listen to the fruits of your impeccable labor, dearest. Almost wasted in a place like this."

A moan, shaky and delirious, a shuddering sob for him, so high and flustered she sounded almost pained escaped her throat. She pressed against him and with a jolt that reverberated through her spine, convulsing so sweetly against him he almost came from the tremor that rushed through his cock. But it wasn't her peak. Alastor hadn't gotten his fill yet and he wouldn't stop now until it was both of their turns, but damn if he wasn't tempted.

He reached to the other ear to put the second headphone on her. Now her world had no escape, she could only listen, only hear every filthy wet noise of his slick slide, his ragged breathing and the beat of her own heart- a heavy, cacophonous staccato.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded, head clouded and flushed, looking up at him with rapt fascination. His own gaze met hers as his pace increased, suddenly snapping his hips with harsh precision, and his voice was low, carnal.

"But their loss is my gain, darling. Don't you ever forget that, now."

And his thoughts went to of those incompetent, thickheaded dunderheads who took their jobs, but were no where as skilled or invested as her, knowing full well they were inadequate and undeserving to get close to her, trying to touch what clearly should have been for him alone to do, and it sent a nasty spark of possessiveness through Alastor, igniting a furious hunger, a beast waking up within him and snarling with unbridled desire, to claim, to mark her as his. And nobody else's.

He grinned devilishly, a low rumble in his throat as a needy whine escaped his little engineer and he grabbed her waist tightly, digging his fingers into the fat there as he picked up speed and drilled into her with more intensity, savage, merciless and utterly ruthless, finally throwing all composure and rationality overboard to replace it with feral instinct and possessive desire. Her hands clutched him desperately, thighs tensing and pressing against his moving hips, her choked cries of his name were nothing else but heavenly and he was filled with lecherous obsession and greed - yes, he could get addicted to the sound of his name being screamed and moaned from her lips, her sweet, wet flesh fluttering around his throbbing length, the violent stuttering of her breath that just enticed and pleaded him to continue.

"Mine. My own, little, eager engineer." he hissed against the shell of her ear, headphones slipping from her, hips still pounding away at her heat with feverish pace and an undeniable pleasure coiling low and tightly within his pelvis. With every harsh thrust, every desperate, salacious cry, he pulled her deeper and deeper into sinful depravity, her head thrown back in bliss, the headphones slipping from her head as her nails scraped desperately over his clothed chest. The sharp bites of pain mixed with a sweet ache and tightening within Alastor, telltale signs of his climax nearing rapidly. "No more avoiding me, no more elusion or flight for you, understood? You are mine and mine alone."

Her toes curled as his words spurred her over the edge with him, her core spasming and quivering around him as her moans became ragged and desperate, jaw agape in rapture but no words found as she toppled into her orgasm, dragging and taking Alastor with her. The immense wave crashed into him and swept him along, and he growled in the sensational and exhilarating feeling and his head fell against her shoulder, with a growl ripping from his throat, low and guttural. His seed emptied in her with long, forceful spurts, her body tensing and relaxing as each twitch and jerk pushed his release deeper and deeper, the pleasure so acute, so sharp it was almost painful, until both their highs subsided and Alastor had to rest against her for a moment, their labored breaths the only noise that reached his ears.

Alastor sighed contentedly, his hand loosened it's grip and his fingertips gently traced over the angry, red lines they had left behind on her tanned skin of her waist, feeling her shivering underneath him. His lips pressed into the soft crook of her neck, placing a tender kiss on the flushed skin. He would have to do something about the bruising and marks... His eyes wandered up and he noticed that she was staring now, hazily and exhausted, her pupils still wide, lips bitten swollen and reddened, her cheeks and chest still painted pink with lingering arousal. The sight was so deliciously debauched and lewd, a smirk crept on his face.

"It seems that the equipment is indeed in perfect working order again, thanks to you, darling."

"...Yes, sir." she replied warily, her voice still breathless. Her usual demeanor returned, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes she tilted her head away from him. He chuckled, lifting her chin and capturing her lips once again, not much for hers but more for his own gain, and then moved off and out of her. He took a moment to savor the view - the red, swollen flesh, leaking his essence that pooled on the metal surface of his control panel he would work on in a few hours, and her thighs glistening in the faint orange light of the booth.

"Please, darling, from now on..." Alastor took a handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiping the mess of his hands and cleaning her with careful gentleness, her legs twitching weakly at the contact.

"...call me Alastor."

He hummed quietly and lifted her from the console, closing the buttons on her blouse again with fastidious efficiency after she slipped back into her pants. Then, with a few quick motions, Alastor picked up his jacket and fixed his own appearance, before helping her stand properly on her trembling feet.

"I trust we won't have any misunderstandings anymore?" He smiled at her, tilting his head slightly, a soft and yet challenging smile, his hand cupping her face and the thumb brushing her lower lip. Her cheeks grew warmer and redder again, her eyes flickering downwards, then back up, before she nodded silently. "Excellent."

Alastor put the headphones back on their rack, before taking his glasses, slipping them back on and reaching for the door handle, his other hand extended towards his little engineer in an inviting motion.

"Come along, my dear. Let me treat you to a nice cup of coffee, I find there's nothing better after a job well done."

She paused, her face going a shade darker and her lips pressing together. Then, after a heartbeat, she stepped next to him and through the door he opened for her. He could see the small smile that crept onto her lips as she hurriedly passed him, a shy glance shot towards him, but this time it didn't feel like she wasn't fleeing, but almost daring for him to chase her.

Another kind of hunt, he mused, and the thought made him smile as he closed the door and followed her out.

[facesittingnightmares]

Coach Gatlin: Tryouts season

You were sat on the bench in the scorching heat, sun almost blinding as you were watching the first third of the new tryouts compete on the field, desperate to earn a spot on this year's famously competitive Shatterstone College football team. You thought it was just like any other tryouts, except more competitive. Unfortunately, you were wrong. "That's time!!" Roared the respected coach, Gerard Gatlin, known to have the most impressive team lineups in college history. He was 35 but had the build of a athletic 20 year old with a nice beard and mature demeanor. The first group of tryouts came off the pitch out of breath and sweaty. It was all normal until you saw Coach Gatlin pull two players over to him as the second group rushed onto the field.

"Okay so you two were tied for scoring but I can only take one of you. Are either of you willing to kiss my ass for the spot?" As soon as the question was prompted, the left player said 'yes sir,' not even giving time to think it was a joke. "Looks like we have the winner. Better luck next time!" Coach laughs as he signals for the other player to leave. "Sorry to disappoint, but you won't be kissing my ass, just sniffing it. More specifically, sniffing my farts for a bit as I assess the second group." The player, clearly built and looking like a stereotypical alpha male, knelt down and pushed his face into the tight blue shorts of the coach without hesitation as he had dreamed of getting on the team for years.

"Good man! You clearly know that being the best takes sacrifice and commitment. Since you are essentially part of the team now, I should tell you my nickname among the lads, or more specifically, the nickname of my ass that carries out the punishments, The Gatlin Gun" Coach laughs as he lets out a fart onto the players face. You see a slight flinch but nothing too reactive. The smell blows over to you, and you gag immediately from the rotten scent. Then, another fart rips, and again, the player has a slight flinching response. You couldn't believe that the other player was taking these head on. Before the smell could reach you, another blast erupts, then another, and another. It seemed like Coach Gatlin was a full auto fart blaster. You gagged as the smell of each and every fart was carried by the wind. "Sorry for the smell! But if you plan on joining the team, you will experience it a lot!" The older man simply laughed as the quick lighting fast rips of toxic methane continued. You had no idea how the player was still alive. Sure, more powerful farts had been ripped by other men, but the Gatlin Gun name was accurate as the incredible speed of farts is what made Coach Gatlins ass deadly. Finally, the defeated football player fell backward unconscious as he had just been blasted by at least 100 farts within a few minutes.

Then came the offer of a lifetime. "You've just seen and smelt what I can do to a face, so how about I offer you something worthwhile. You get over here and take the rest of my Gatlin Guns rounds, and you're on the team, no questions asked!" The smirk of the man showed his love for dominance as the smell of a few silent farts made your stomach turn even from range, making your mind race at the thought of what to do.

[tim-moments]

The joke made by women was funny because the actual tagline (women in male fields) is a joke about the very real experience of women going into male-dominated fields. And the actual jokes were about males’ misogyny being turned back on to them. And then trans people felt they weren’t being included enough and not even making funny jokes 🙄

[quarterlifecrisis-activated]

This line has haunted me for a while now. It was a line I overlooked but it still felt important. It’s not just about Zheng’s ship but piracy as a whole. Piracy in the show is a male dominated field run under toxic masculinity and pressures. Throughout season 1 the idea gets reinforced that piracy is just this way, and to survive and thrive you have to conform to its standards. Izzy and Calico Jack and even the Badminton twins have this firm idea of what piracy is and should be.

Let’s look at season 1 episode 1. Stede as captain and the Revenge as a whole is played as a joke pirate ship. We know that the crew is considered bottom of the barrel when it comes to what you would want for a bloodthirsty pirate horde. Throughout the season this is pointed out over and over again. Izzy says that they’re not real pirates and I agree. At least they’re not real pirates as set by the standard of piracy. The crew are kind, they do crafts and like to be read to. Pirates don’t have friends and they don’t make things they steal them. Pirates also don’t live long. Most of the pirates Ed knows are dead. Frankly, the only reason Ed, Izzy, Fang, and Ivan are probably still alive is because Blackbeard doesn’t actually have to do raids because everyone surrenders. I firmly believe that if Stede and the crew tried to be “real” pirates they would’ve all died. Stede is not a good pirate by the end of season 1. Honestly, I don’t really think he’s trying to be. He doesn’t actually want to be a pirate, I mean if you told that man that he’d be responsible for a pirate fleet he’d probably faint. By the end of season 1 you could make the argument that the way Stede runs his ship is not conducive to successful piracy. That is until you meet Zheng Yi Sao.

Needless to say that Zheng is the most successful pirate we’ve seen on the show. Her fleet is massive and she conquered China. She’s an amazing pirate and she also defies the standard for piracy set by season 1. Her crew of the Red Flag (much like the Revenge) have communal activities, good food, they’re open with each other. If being successful as a pirate means adhering to toxic ideals where you’re on your own and you have to stab each other in the back to survive, Zheng’s fleet should be like that. But it’s not. Because true success is not about if you can get the thing you want but how long you can hold onto it. The other way leads to death and mutiny because being individualistic means you cannot be loyal to anything but your own self interest. With how spread out Zheng’s fleet is it would be so easy for someone to mutiny and take some of her ships. We can see Zheng fosters a sense of camaraderie among her crew. Season 2 shows that the idea that piracy is mean and toxic because it has to be is wrong. I’m sure if they got a season 3 they’d further develop this point.

Notably, Zheng’s crew are mostly all women. Much like the Revenge, these crews are full of marginalized people. Historically, marginalized groups had to develop their own community because they were not getting support on their own. It’s also no surprise that the main advocates for the old way of piracy were white men. They were told that they could do whatever they wanted by themselves and that they didn’t need to rely on anyone. And that was true… until they couldn’t keep up and then they were chewed up and spit out. You don’t last long on your own.

That’s why Zheng is such a threat to Ricky. Not just because she has a large fleet but because she was organizing other pirates. One pirate can be stopped but all of them are too formidable. We see this in season 1 when Stede is about to be executed. Ed alone can’t stop it, even though he’s Blackbeard, but once the entire crew defends Stede things change. The system thrives on people standing alone because they’re easy to quash, but also who needs to worry about a jumpstart pirate captain because sooner or later they’ll be mutinied against. I think this is what Izzy comes to see throughout season 2 and informs his speech to Ricky. Maybe the real piracy was the collective action and community we made along the way.

Circling back to the quote that started this, men don’t fit in with Zheng’s crew because they were purposely fed the lie that reliance on each other and community building was weak and soft. They’d have to unpack the lie they’ve been fed their whole life. The crown and piracy are two sides of the same coin holding up the same status quo. But piracy is dying because it was never designed to last. The crew of the Revenge live against all odds because to them it’s not about piracy itself but community and family. And those ideas can’t be killed.

[ghost-of-a-dream-girl]

as a doctor, where in the hospital staff would you place each of the bg3 companions? what would fit their characters the most?

Hahah oh this is great

Gonna keep this to doctors but let’s do different specialties

Ok so starting off strong: I think Karlach has big emergency medicine energy. She’s running the ED with an energy that nobody else can match, but especially that resus/trauma bay! Doesn’t shy away from the scary, gets stuck in. You know they don’t need security there to restrain the agitated when she’s on shift- all you need is Karlach and some ket.

Next I think Gale has the same aura as a senior ICM registrar (intensive care medicine resident). Probably dual training in renal or respiratory, likely has a PhD on the side. He has intensity when it matters but is an utter nerd. Likely the type who doesn’t like odd numbers on the vent settings. Precise, a little OCD, but fucking magical.

Wyll has to be a medical registrar (internal medicine senior resident). Probs in something acute like acute medicine or resp/gastro. Able to deal with vast quantities of shit and still put on a smile, graceful, caring, and properly holistic in the way he views patients. Quietly competent as the hells. Sacrifices himself for the good of the hospital.

Shadowheart is a tricky one. It would be too obvious to lean into the goth girl vibes and say pathology or whatever but actually I don’t think that fits. I think Shadowheart is an anaesthetist (anaesthesiologist to u Americans). Very very competent and always there exactly when you need her to save everyone else’s asses, but keen to retire to theatres after the fun is over and just crack on with a case by herself. Able to gossip like a pro. Likes taking the lead with her own problem solving. Would be catty as hell about her list overrunning or the surgeons doing something silly. probably overly reliant on caffeine.

Astarion. Cardiothoracics. Probably specifically cardiac surgery. No mortal human can stand for 12 hrs and perform like that. Also the most (justifiably) egotistical surgeons around. Would be bitching about his colleagues across the drapes with Shadowheart. Has had 200yrs to practice his techniques so the ego is probably really well placed. Those rogue hands were meant for complex cardiac surgery but that hair was made for the drama of it too. Easy access to blood products. Would do 30% NHS lists and 70% private practice to fund his lifestyle. Best dressed in the hospital.

Lae’zel is that really strange surgical registrar (general surgical senior resident) that you’re never quite sure if she’s joking or not when she makes threats toward you. Obviously very competent. Makes other surgeons cry but particularly the men. Has > 300 publications in major medical journals. Probably pioneered a revolutionary new technique that she came up with one rainy Saturday. Can get an appendix out in 5 mins max.

There is only one woman for trauma and orthopaedics and that is of course Minthara. A woman who dominates what is well known to be the most male dominated field in medicine. Lowest complication rate in the country. Every single one of her male juniors is terrified of her and for good reason. Will operate on things other surgeons would be too scared to touch. Complex poly-trauma patient with ‘unsurvivable’ injuries? Watch them walk out of hospital 3 months later.

Honourable mentions:

Durge- you know what, it’s so tempting to put Durge as a surgeon or even a pathologist (people who do autopsies), but that’s just too obvious. I think the murdering would be kept on the side. One thing Durge would love though is blood and carnage, maybe even a little high octane drama. For that reason- obstetrics. A little poetry to a killer bringing new life into the world too.

Jaheira - that incredible Professor who only works part time clinically now but when she does everyone is reminded of how brilliant she is. Gives me the energy of a ‘seen it all’ medical consultant (internal medicine attending).

Minsc- he should be ortho. Everyone thinks it- he has big Ortho lad energy. But he’s not. Minsc is a paediatrician!!!! It shocks everyone when they first meet him, this massive guy with a hamster on his shoulder. The kids love Boo. He’d be obsessed with Prof Jaheira too.

Halsin- can see him as a psychiatry professor actually. Probs does dabble in a little of the cooler types of therapies on the side (and tries them for himself) eg LSD for PTSD. Mixes medicine with non medical therapies. Very soothing to listen to.

Withers- palliative care consultant that should have retired millennia ago.

Volo- ophthalmology. 👁️

—

[zackxsnyder]

The casual ways in which Misogyny is always being enforced

I find it so casually hot when cunts become instinctively submissive and demure in front of casual signals of Male assertiveness and Misogyny.

Here are some examples. Some feminists try to push back, but here's the thing: they don't leave, they just make a fuss. Never care about a dumb cunt. They can't do a thing, anyway. Keep being cocky and playful until they feel their own powerlessness. Their "frustration/anger" often translates to a strange fixation on misogynistic Men........ All of this to say, that cunts are simple:

Correct her when she's wrong, mid-conversation. Take control and calmly explain to her how obvious that mistake is and how dumb she is, but have an understanding smile because it's to be expected. No matter how much they deny it, they get all hot and bothered from being made to feel stupid and inferior. Keep an amused smile, she will bravely try to salvage whatever she was trying to say before progressively crumbling. Of course you were looking elsewhere all along or staring at her tits. If you're more familiar with each other, openly make fun of her and refute the entirety of her point. After all, if she didn't get a simple thing right, how could she explain something more complex?

Stop her when she makes a mistake in her reasoning: "no that's not an example, that's an analogy, and it is wrong anyways". "No, sweetheart, just because this is true, it doesn't mean that there's correlation/equivalence. Here's an example of each. You were just bullshitting all along, huh? Don't get worked up. I'm just saying that you've showed Me that I shouldn't trust how that dummy brain works, you're not very good at reasoning aren't you? There there I was joking...I just don't want you to overwork that pretty little head...what?! I said it was pretty!" Girls are used to not be taken seriously and being made fun of for being dumb, and if they try to act feminist, just tell her that she's stuck up. And that's actually true: if she wants to be one of the boys, she can't be too sensitive. Men push back against each other with sarcasm all the time. (I've personally noticed that these two examples are among the most potent. A couple of times each make them fold quickly. They become extra careful and hesitant when trying to give an info or an opinion, because cunts can't handle intellectual scrutiny and push back that well)

Call her pet names. Keep at it. Her opinion about it is irrelevant, just like her consent. Easy workaround: call her fussiness or refusal cute, and tell her you're calling her that precisely to tease her now, not as an endearing or patronizing way. There, see? No misogyny, just workplace banter. I call Paul "tits" to harass him into working out, you're "Pet/darling" because you're insufferable, welcome to the gang! .... I told you, cunts are simple.

Condition her for objectification. Compliment her clothes, never her ideas. Compliment her body, never her accomplishments. Keep at it, she'll like the compliments (after all, you're sincere) and look forward to them.

Keep dismissing her opinions on politics, news, etc. Interrupt her when she talks, hijack her argument, dominate her verbally: she's just a woman. Even when it comes to her field (no matter her "expertise" she won't get it as rigorously as a Man anyways), always seek the extra input of a Man whom you know specializes in it, after all it's good to double-check. Reinforce the fact that women are less competent than Men through her.

Always lead (that's the barest of basics, Gentlemen. You're not allowed to not lead). The most staunch feminist will gladly let you decide everything, after all they're overwhelmed with their "constant fight" and "anxiety": where to go, what to do, where to sit, what to eat, when to leave, which road to take, no let Me be closer to the road it's dangerous, wear something comfortable/classy/sexy for this place that I'm picking, etc. And the more you do it, the less they question you and the more they lean on you. It's the simplest and oldest form of submissiveness and follower-behavior that's imprinted in their DNA. We have a modern "gender neutral" word for it: leadership. (By the way, what do you instinctively imagine when you read the word? Right, a Man.)

If you do this for a while, soon enough you'll be giving her "advice" that she'll strangely follow more and more readily, about what places to pick, what professionals to call (Men of course), what clothes suit her best, etc. Soon enough she'll be coming to you for "advice" and "opinion" about the most mundane things. She craves giving up control and being told what to do, no matter her initial stubbornness. No wonder they need gaslighting and manipulation to make them do what's good for them. Reinforce the fact that women need Men to make decisions for them and think for them.

Touch her. Lead her by the small of her back, touch her arm and look her intently and calmly in the eyes while talking. Gaze down at her upturned eyes, and notice how slowly but surely she shows you more respect in spite of her. The reptilian part of her brain, the one which can't learn how to read and only knows how to breed, reacts to it. Assertiveness and confidence are the basic Male traits. When office cunts try to copy it, you'll notice they copy a parody of Manhood, that's why it's neither natural nor suave, only off-putting and amusing.

As you have noticed, these are pretty basic. They're a given, and that's the point.

They're among the subtle permanent ways in which everyone is reminded of the natural order of the world, even in the corporate workplace, or friend groups.

[marley-manson]

Hawkeye and Frank are the two most diametrically opposed characters on Mash. They clash politically, ideologically, emotionally, intellectually, and even physically on more than one occasion. There is virtually nothing they agree on. But they do have one significant similarity: both Hawkeye and Frank are notably, pointedly effeminate.

Hawkeye is the central protagonist, so he's written to be likeable, even admirable, especially in the first five seasons of the show when satire dominated rather than character drama. He's the character who makes the correct political points and voices the show's ideology, and male audience members are encouraged to identify with him and aspire to be like him. He's witty, he's smart, he's charismatic, he dodges consequences a lot, he's highly skilled in his work, and he has a strong personality and natural leadership qualities.

Frank is the main antagonist up until the end of season five. He's written for audiences to hate him, mock him, and occasionally be horrified by him. He's dull-witted, incompetent, awkward, easily led and manipulated, and always gets his comeuppance. Few audience members are likely to aspire to be more like Frank Burns.

And yet, while most likeable protagonist/detestable antagonist duos in American popular media would also be differentiated in terms of gender performance as a matter of course - the effeminate villain being a standard stock character, always set against a ruggedly masculine hero - Mash takes a different approach.

From his core personality as a sniveling, weak-willed follower, to the way other characters, including Hawkeye, routinely make fun of him by comparing him to a woman or insinuating that he's gay, Frank Burns certainly fits the part of weak, emasculated villain. What's more interesting, and much less commonly seen in Hollywood media, is that Hawkeye is portrayed as just as unmanly, and just as, if not more prone to having it pointed out in the show.

Often Hawkeye's jokes at Frank's expense include the implication that Hawkeye is attracted to him himself, and not necessarily as "the man." He jokes, "Guess it's a marriage, Frank. I know I can do better, but at my age, can I wait?" in Hawkeye, Get Your Gun; he switches from calling Frank one of his vampire brides to taking the feminine part in post-coital pillow talk after siphoning his blood in Germ Warfare; he kisses or tells Frank to kiss him in Major Fred C. Dobbs, For the Good of the Outfit, and Bulletin Board, etc.

Other times, the jokes Hawkeye makes about himself are virtually identical to the jokes made at Frank's expense - their respective attractions to Margaret as a potentially dominant sexual partner, eg, with both Frank and Hawkeye portrayed as eagerly submissive. For instance, in 5 O'Clock Charlie Hawkeye jokes about tying Frank to Margaret's tent, then dismisses the thought with, "He'd probably love it. I know I would." And Hawkeye/Trapper and Frank/Margaret are sometimes paralleled as dual couples, Hawkeye and Frank usually being framed as the more feminine partner in each.

And of course, unconnected to Frank, there are many, many more examples of Hawkeye's effeminacy, both in jokes and in personality traits.

Hawkeye is a self-professed coward who is loud and proud about how terrified he is to be stuck in a war zone. He's emotionally open and highly empathetic, always willing to listen to others' problems and discuss (or scream about) his own. He abhors institutional violence and faces every enemy combatant with his hands firmly in the air. When authority is thrust upon him he strives to relinquish it, and uses it as little as possible.

More shallowly, he has little interest in sports and exercise, derides masculine hobby magazines like Field and Stream and Popular Mechanics, is incapable of performing mechanical tasks to the exasperation of others at least four times (Comrades in Arms which explicitly frames this emasculating, In Love and War, Patent 4077, and Hey, Look Me Over), mocks traditional masculinity in many ways, and enjoys musical theatre and Hollywood gossip. And he makes and takes literally hundreds of jokes about being unmanly and having sex with men himself, many more than he makes at Frank's expense.

But while the jokes are at Frank's expense and meant to belittle him, they're rarely made at Hawkeye's expense, especially in the first five seasons. Hawkeye doesn't make the jokes out of self-deprecation, he makes them out of pride and a desire to differentiate himself from the army men he's surrounded by. He's almost always in on the jokes others make about him, rather than offended - Potter telling him to file a paternity suit against his rival in Hepatitis makes him laugh delightedly, and Trapper's remarks on his effeminacy, such as Miz Hawkeye in Hot Lips and Empty Arms, are sometimes lightly teasing but always a regular aspect of their dynamic that Hawkeye enjoys playing up. Frank doesn't make any jokes directly mocking Hawkeye's masculinity that I can recall, beyond vague "pervert" and "degenerate" remarks, which, while often historically homophobic, in the show's context tend to be treated as a reference to his heterosexual endeavours.

Frank's effeminacy is a point of mockery and derision, but Hawkeye's is a point of pride, and not intended to make him any less likeable to an audience. Antagonists don't get to score points off of Hawkeye by mocking his feminine traits, but Hawkeye makes fun of Frank regularly by mocking his feminine traits.

This difference in framing can partially be explained by the nature of their respective gender performances.

While Hawkeye and Frank are both effeminate, they're effeminate in many opposite ways. Frank is weak-willed while Hawkeye is strong-willed. Frank is unappealing to most women, while Hawkeye is something of a lady's man. Frank cannot face his fears to rise to a challenge, but Hawkeye can. But on the flipside, Frank refuses to admit to fear while Hawkeye openly proclaims it. Frank strives to attain authority while Hawkeye refuses it or takes it on only begrudgingly. Frank is obsessed with guns to a freudian extent while one of Hawkeye's most famous monologues of the show is a speech about refusing to carry one. Frank worships the concept of traditional masculinity even while he can't perform it himself, while Hawkeye mocks the concept and would refuse to perform it even if he could.

The Sniper is an excellent case study of these contrasts. In this episode, Hawkeye is effeminate and at ease with it, while Frank is desperate to prove himself masculine. Frank and Margaret flirt with strong Freudian overtones while Frank shoots a gun while nearby Hawkeye flirts with with a nurse with a line about "tasting" her. Hawkeye connects with the nurse he's wooing by relating to how scared she is and huddling in fear with her, while Margaret demands that Frank prove his masculinity by going out and taking down the sniper himself. Frank carries a gun while trying to approach the sniper, while Hawkeye carries a white flag. Frank tries to make fun of Hawkeye for wanting to surrender, but he can't bring himself to approach the sniper while Hawkeye does.

This contrast of gender performance is a consistent aspect of Hawkeye and Frank's dynamic throughout the show, but The Sniper makes it a central theme so it's a useful example to show how their relationships to masculinity are a deliberate aspect of their dynamic.

And while Hawkeye makes fun of Frank's femininity, it's significant that he also regularly makes fun of Frank's masculinity - his love of guns (eg The Sniper), his sexual affairs (eg the exchange about Frank as a "fantastic performer" in Yankee Doodle Doctor), his numerous attempts to exert authority (eg Welcome to Korea), his desire for socially approved success (eg Hot Lips and Empty Arms), etc.

Both masculine and feminine sides of Frank are comprised of negative character traits, while Hawkeye embodies the best of both - emotional expression and healthy ways of coping by talking about his feelings; bravery but not machismo; intelligence and skill as a doctor rather than an officer; empathy and a willingness to listen; sexual prowess but largely through his love of foreplay rather than his dick game (which, in the context of the early 70s, is a somewhat feminine attribute that distinguishes him from a typical traditionally masculine man); etc.

Hawkeye demonstrates some of the most appealing and healthy qualities of both masculinity and femininity while Frank demonstrates, or strives to demonstrate, the more toxic qualities of both. Through including a few positive masculine traits in the mix, the narrative is able to depict Hawkeye as likeable, admirable, and desirable in his effeminacy while Frank is depicted as loathesome in his. Hawkeye gets one of many, many women in The Sniper by showing vulnerability, while Frank only appeals to Margaret, and Margaret is portrayed as borderline pathological in her sexual attraction to violent masculinity (the scene where Frank excites her with his gun, for example, also includes an electra complex joke, and there's a running rape kink gag in this episode as well).

Another aspect to consider when it comes to differentiating Hawkeye and Frank's respective femininities is hypocrisy. Similar to how Frank and Margaret's affair is mocked because they can't admit to it while Hawkeye and Trapper's affairs are glorified, part of what makes Frank's effeminacy so mock-worthy, while Hawkeye's feminine qualities are a source of pride and rebellion, is that Frank refuses to admit to them.

Frank desperately wants to be the ideal heroic army man and often play-acts the part, poorly. When Hawkeye mocks him by calling him a woman, for example, he's drawing attention to Frank's failure to live up to his own ideals. And when Hawkeye calls himself a woman, he's mocking those same ideals. The message is that Frank is pathetic not so much for failing to be traditionally masculine, but for wanting to be traditionally masculine at all.

Ultimately the ways Hawkeye and Frank perform masculinity and femininity are pointedly in opposition, from which masc and fem traits they embody, to how proudly they embody them. The show itself draws attention to these gendered similarities and differences between Frank and Hawkeye through a constant barrage of jokes, and even whole scenes and episodes. In this way the show portrays Frank as a hypocritical loser who wants to be masculine but fails to embody all but the worst traits, and Hawkeye as a cool, admirable guy who disdains the traditional pillars of masculinity and embraces his own effeminacy.

[megaderping]

I think the biggest issue with Naoto discussion is that there are so many intersecting perspectives with very strong feelings involved, and if a Persona 4 remake does happen, I fully suspect that Atlus is going to have their hands full figuring out how to handle the character in the modern day. First there's the cultural context of misogyny in the workplace and especially in the legal and justice systems in Japan, which informs Naoto's character a lot. It is important to consider this, as this was a Japanese game made in 2008 at a time where queer visibility wasn't nearly as prominent, but that alone doesn't invalidate criticism to the arc's execution, regardless of creator intention. A big point of contention is how the arc was handled. Specifically the way it uses talk of body alteration procedures, surgical equipment, and treats the idea of transition as scary. If you consider how draconian the laws behind legally transitioning in Japan are, you can perhaps make a case for why it might cause Naoto internal conflict as complete surgical transition/sterilization/diagnosis were all requirements at the time of the game's development and only recently were declared unconstitutional. Though, as this excellent video pointed out, it's possible this was meant to be a reference to the story Flowers for Algernon, given the weapon you get if you return there later. However, even if that was the intent, transgender people exist in Japan and have since well before Persona 4, and anime such as The Dirty Pair aired in the 80's with very progressive takes on transness. It's very unlikely that the team behind Persona 4 was completely unaware of queer issues and symbolism, given that Persona 3 had that infamous transphobic joke in the original version's babe hunt.

The Dirty Pair, a 1985 anime that was surprisingly progressive.

I think the issue, more than anything, is that the tropes at play don't exist in a vacuum and what comes after Naoto's dungeon raises a lot more red flags. Jokes about Naoto's chest size, the narrative framing Kanji's crush as only acceptable after the reveal, on top of the uncomfortable execution of the romance route in Naoto's Social Link. You get so much "Naoto is actually a girl" in a way where it's other characters talking about/over Naoto, which is what really makes the framing off putting to a lot of people, myself included. And it's not even that you can't do an arc about a female character fighting against prejudiced preconceptions in the criminal justice field without controversy, because Persona 5 pulled this off far less contentiously.

Sae Niijima deals with many similar themes but doesn't seem nearly as contentious, and I think a large part of that is due to Sae openly presenting as a woman from the start. The game openly depicts the misogyny from Sae's superiors and coworkers, such as how she's unmarried and fighting an uphill battle for success in a male-dominated field. Persona has toyed with these ideas in the aftermath of Persona 4 and even when revisiting older titles. Persona 2 went back and added the character of Shiori Miyashiro in the PSP release, a lady detective who has a lot in common with Naoto (e.g. knowingly endangering oneself to get the truth behind a supernatural case). It's also astonishing that we have Lala Escargot in Persona 5, which also had that infamous gay couple that played into horrible stereotypes that were only slightly fixed in royal's international release. Lala, whether trans or a drag queen, is given surprising respect, and her identity is never called into question. A Persona 4 remake could learn from this and cut back on the characters asserting what Naoto feels, what Naoto "really is," etc, and let Naoto and Naoto alone decide. Ultimately, Naoto means different things to different people, and these things can carry great personal weight and importance. Many trans and nonbinary Persona fans see themselves in Naoto. Others favor Naoto as some flavor of gnc or find Naoto embracing femininity and detective work empowering. I think the problem is that when this topic comes up, there's a lot of hostility. Trans fans and people who favor trans Naoto get told to shut up at best, and at worst get hit with shit tons of transphobia and gross conduct. On the other hand, I don't think people who prefer more canon-compliant depictions of Naoto are inherently malicious. It's how they approach these discussions and treat people that makes a difference. Just because someone uses she/her for Naoto doesn't mean they're being intentionally transphobic, but I totally get people wanting to avoid material that uses those pronouns all the same. I also don't think people are wrong to be uncomfortable with the resolution of Naoto's arc in canon. I think people who get upset when fanworks go with trans or NB interpretations of Naoto could stand to be more empathetic, as a lot of those fanworks come from people who connected to Naoto and want to explore what could've been. I don't think more canon-compliant fanworks are inherently malicious either, but no one is obligated to stick around works or spaces that make them feel uncomfortable. Tbh, I'm just wondering what Atlus will do. Persona 3 Reload removed that one transphobic joke during the babe hunt in all languages. Persona 5 Tactica had male marriage fantasies for Joker. I think Atlus is trying to be more inclusive, but Persona 3 Reload also kept Toriumi's crush on the protagonist and Chihiro defending student-teacher romances, so it's really unclear how much of Persona 4's more divisive aspects will be retooled. Because it's not just Naoto. Persona 4 has a lot of aspects that haven't aged well, like all the jokes about Kanji being predatory if he's attracted to guys, or Kashiwagi being creepy toward students, or the fatphobia with Hanako while Ebihara's past of being overweight is treated with more sympathy. I love Naoto and Persona 4, but I also think it's important to be able to criticize elements of the game that could be executed better.

[hadesoftheladies]

i don't find stories about hyper-feminine bimbos in typically serious fields like medicine, science, etc. that insist "you can do both" empowering, actually. i actually regard femininity as a demeaning clown suit and i don't find it empowering to be a joke in a comedy, even if it has a nice (and i really mean "un-earned") ending. where are the shows and movies for grown fucking women that actually deals with adult topics? "can she balance her femininity in a male-dominated environment?" are not important adult problems. they aren't even existential issues women typically face and not even the story can take it seriously. like is this for twelve-year-olds?

"you can do both" yeah, and die of cancer at fifty because of the ingredients in my foundation and my supremely high cortisol levels. :)

[sapphicdib]

woo first post of the year! i finally finished my doodles of everyone in the streamer au :3 i’m rlly excited to post it cuz i love this au dearly!! some lil snippets of info about everyone is below the cut if ur curious abt this silly au :3

LTTM | Kamaria (she/her)

Works as a nutritionist, was inspired to go into the field because both her parents are doctors! Usually mods Sig’s chat and occasionally joins streams if she’s up for it. In a book club with Cyra, and is a little gym rat, specifically weight training and likes to joke that she can bench-press Sayani (she can.). Usually level-headed but gets extremely anxious when people get sick, especially Felix. Thankfully Sayani and Cyra are there to force her to rest and help if one of them is under the weather. Massive lesbian and Sayani’s partner.

SRS | Cyra (they/he/xe)

Sheltered catholic boy turned nonbinary librarian with like 3 boyfriends (gn). Started using they/them on accident when they got asked their pronouns in class and panicked and blurted “he/they” and then was too awkward to correct himself. Currently attends school with Felix, getting their masters degree in library science (xier bachelors was in history). On the very rare occasion they join sayani’s streams, xe wears a facemask which has triggered sayani’s fanbase to make a “headcanon” that he’s a vampire and doesn’t wanna show his fangs. Joined a book club to find some friends that he goes to with Kamaria.

SOS | Sylvia (she/her)

ngl she’s usually just a background character, probably an accountant or something

OSO | Felicity (she/her)

fun fact i literally googled “bitchy girl names” to get a name for her. looks like a tired office woman. probably works with sliver and hates her.

EOI | Echos (any/all)

haven’t really used him either but they’re vegan and like crocheting :3 probably has a small business on etsy or smth

CW | Chase (he/him)

straightest gay man in existence. had piper convinced he was genuinely straight until yui told them otherwise. sig’s childhood best friend and partner in crime. not a streamer but does play games with sig regularly. his last name is Gray-Windsor (clubs came up with that banger)

NSH | Sayani (she/he/it)

god i could dump so much stuff about this lil freak. she’s a streamer, obviously, and also a top-ranked esports player in multiple FPS games. refuses to tell chat its pronouns bc she thinks it’s funny watching them guess. gets hella bitches and is dating kamaria, cyra, & felix, and occasionally fucks around with piper, yui, & chase. his mom is from the philippines and his dad is japanese, and her mom speaks to him mostly in tagalog, which sig can understand but can’t speak (…aside from swear words, lmao). attended the same college as felix & cyra’s for one semester until the streaming thing blew up.

PI | Piper (they/them)

DEFINITION OF PRETTY PRIVILEGE. PURE OF HEART AND DUMB OF ASS. lowkey stoner and helps felix w his chronic pain. highkey gay whore, is with Felix officially and kinda Cyra and Sayani. competitive esports player & streamer who met sayani at a competition.

UI | Yui (she/they)

streamer & competitive esports player, can come off as a bit of a bitch due to being defensive in such a male-dominated space. from korea and makes fun of sig for not being bilingual like she is. very close friends with piper and phoebe.

ABL | Phoebe (they/them)

again, haven’t really used them much but they’re yui’s best friend. has a massive crush on yui but doesn’t really have the confidence to go for it. enjoys fashion design.

FP | Felix (he/him)

Kamaria’s adopted brother (hence why he’s a scrawny ass white boy). Battled cancer as a child and deals with chronic pain due to it, but has been in remission since he was 12! has to use crutches when he walks sometimes. artsy little fuck and getting his bachelors of fine arts, drew all of the emotes for sayani’s streams. used to be camera shy but eventually came to be a pretty regular guest on stream, and occasionally does little drawing streams. knows how to play guitar and sing, but thinks his voice sounds “girly” so he doesn’t do it often. dating sayani, cyra, and piper.

aaaaaand yeah! that’s all i can think of rn lmfao. i’m probably gonna hit post and be like “NO I FORGOT TO SAY—“ but oh well lmfao. feel free to send me asks abt it :D

[bitbugbites-cod]

𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚝 | 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭

You tease Soap about his age. He seems more than eager to prove to you that he's no "boy."

c.ai link and j.ai link

gender: gn! reader (though you might want to specify how you identify at first since the bot will sometimes default to either "sir" or "ma'am")

cw: NSFW // whatever you type in, I guess??

a/n: tried the ai voices on c.ai for the first time when making this bot and I still don't think I've fully recovered from the humiliation of having a very impassioned soap read my writing back to me

Soap, the prideful man that he is, hated that he was the youngest in the task force.

Of course, if anything, it was an impressive feat that he was chosen to join despite being 27. It meant that he had acquired skills at levels equivalent to his higher-ranked seniors, who had spent years getting to where they were now.

But, as with any male-dominated field, it's the runt who gets picked on the most.

That's why Soap was glad you were there. You, who is both older and ranked higher than him, were the only one who didn't join or add to the admittedly lighthearted and petty teasing.

Were. Were is the keyword.

Which is how you got to where you are now. Soap stood in front of you in an insanely intimidating and outright insubordinate manner. His eyes were trained on yours, peering down through his long lashes, as his chest heaved and fell with long, slowly drawn breaths.

Smoothly, he placed his thick hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer toward him, making it so his warm breath brushed against your neck and his stubble came close to scratching against your cheek.

"Ah'm no sure Ah understand the joke, Lieutenant."

"Ye seem to be gaggin' fer me to show you that Ah'm no 'boy.'"

[bethanydelleman]

So I was thinking about my experience working in a very male dominated field (engineering, I did usability testing, there were 3 women total on my floor and at least 40 men) and I think there is a spectrum of how male workers can treat women and the extremes both suck but in very different ways. Anyway, I drew a figure.

Line of How Men Treat Female Co-workers:

I want to say up top, sexual harassment is worse than the other side. Much worse. However, as someone who has experienced the "pretend they aren't a woman" side, it is still uncomfortable. Looking back at it, the men in my department would often say I was really young and childish, they would joke that I got my own age wrong and that I was 12 not 21 (I was a co-op student). I don't think I acted particularly young, I think they were trying to slot me into a "younger sister" role. As if making a woman One of the Guys, A Young Sister, or A Mother, makes it safe and easy to be around her.

On one side, your gender becomes the most important thing about you and you suffer for it. On the other side, you feel safe, but your gender identify is entirely stripped away. They both suck.

I just realized there is probably a third stupid option, I present The Triangle of How Men Treat Female Co-workers:

The Unholy Triangle of Workplace Misogyny

[sleepiexx]

Miscellaneous Valeria Garza Hc’s (including some x fem!reader content)

To get the creative juices flowing bc this Val draft I’m writing is going to be the death of me

Valeria hates men with a fiery passion. Years of having been a woman in the military only showed her how vile they are, now she refuses to put up with their shit.

Fully believes that if you want something done right, you have a woman do it.

Definitely treats women better than men, she has empathy for them that she just doesn’t feel for men.

Lesbian fs fs

With that, I don’t actually think her and Alejandro had a romance type thing, they definitely had some form of bond but I genuinely can’t see her with a man so I think it was more platonic

But tbh I think w the passionate hatred Alejandro immediately had for her, no hesitation whatsoever, they had a rivalry

And I think they’re character foils for each other. So similar (yet so different) that all they can see in each other is the things they hate about themselves.

(The way this has been in my drafts for like forever and now that season three is out they’re calling them two sides of the same coin)

Despite her hatred of men, she still has some issues with internalized misogyny and femininity

She’s just so used to having to prove herself in a male dominated field that it’s hard to let go of those things

Won’t wear dresses, have long nails (although that could just go w the whole wlw thing 🤭), or drink fruity drinks

But she refuses to judge other girls for those things, her internal misogyny stays geared toward herself and the standards she holds herself up to.

A lot of it just translates into her being more of a masc lesbian

Anyways

Big spoon, always. No debate. Will make empty threats if you try to fight her on it.

“I will suffocate you with a pillow if you don’t stop,”

Pulls you around by the loops in your jeans, shirt collar, necklace, basically whatever she can pull on to move you places she will

Bites

TLDR: she has cuteness aggression to the max and shows her love in the strangest ways

I think she’s somewhat tall, like 5’9 or 5’10

Muscular af, I just know that turtleneck is hiding a ripped ass body

Abt her time in the military and her current feelings on it

I think when she was in the military, she got up to the lieutenant rank. Especially with the way Alejandro said she led the ambush on the son of La Araña.

She either still has her dog tags hidden somewhere because she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of them, or she threw them as far as she could in a fit of rage

If you’re in the military, she fs tries to convince you to leave and join her

“I could treat you better than any of these men”

And she means it

She means everything she says, even when she’s joking she’s dead serious.

Especially when she tells you she’d kill for you

When she allows herself to love someone, she doesn’t half ass it. She loves with passion.

You know that you are so loved when you’re with her because she makes it abundantly clear.

Overall just a rlly good partner, I’m actually in love w her.