#finally doing this assignment i've been putting off in favor of all my other shit

[9hikers]

"provide detailed instructions on how to set up and use your application"

Step 1. download this german web development tool from the mid-2000s

Step 2. done :)

[cult-of-artemis-and-athena]

What the fuck is "femininity", anyway? Pt. 2

I was watching a video a few months ago about Evangelical Christians complaining about what they perceived as androgyny - women wearing pants and not having long hair, men not going fishing or wearing beards - and then said something to the effect of "These people are straying from God's design!"

I suppose the Bible does have some parts that can be construed as saying that women should have long hair, men should have short hair, and they should both look different and do different things. However, wearing certain clothes or hairstyles, or doing the majority of tasks don't have a biological component. If men were naturally, biologically, by-God supposed to have short hair, it should grow to be an inch long and stop, right? I've seen some Christians rebut the "only men can wear pants" argument on the basis that the stereotypical Christian man wouldn't like, nor properly fit into a pair of women's pants. I would take that a step further, because I think it's hilarious, and say that if women wearing pants were a 100%, by-God biological impossibility, they would have one leg, or be like nagas or mermaids and it would be physically impossible to make pants for them.

Another example: musical instruments are assigned gender stereotypes for some fucking reason. A friend from middle school said she wanted to play the trumpet, but was given a clarinet because it was a "feminine" instrument. Conversely, I've seen boys who started school band on a flute or clarinet either switch instruments, or quit band altogether. Perhaps small hands make it easier to play the piccolo, and it's less annoying for a strong person to carry around a tuba, upright bass, or bari sax, but there's no reason for the player's genitals to enter the equation. During the 18th century, the acceptability of an instrument for women was based on whether the player had to spread their legs to play it. Pianos, violins/violas, and flutes were allowed, but a cello was indecent. I'm not sure, then, how harps became stereotyped as "feminine instruments" when they're both gigantic and require the player to straddle them...but here I am trying to make sense of nonsense again...

Finally - and this is the big one - there is the downright schizophrenic relationship some male communities have with female attractiveness and things women do, or have done to them, to change how they look in pictures and videos.

I feel I must preface the rest of this point with something: "men" and "women" are not hive minds, and it's important to not strawman half the population based on a conglomeration of the worst representatives you have experienced. If you go outside, in real life, and think about the couples you see, it becomes very obvious that the majority of men you will see are attracted to women who aren't skinny blondes with big boobs/asses and the majority of women you see are attracted to men who aren't 6-/7-figure earners. People who seem to express that they are totally alone and perpetually shit-on by a world of "Chads" and "Staceys" feels like the same type of mindset school kids have, where they obsess over not being included by the popular kids while they're befriended and included just fine by kids they actually have more in common with. It's not a healthy mindset to have, but excusable in school kids because kids are immature by nature and they mostly grow out of it; however, to be an adult and still think like this is a good sign to get help.

I'm talking primarily about the incel community and perhaps some of the groups that this mentality spills into.

A post was going around several years ago and I think the photos were taken from a clickbait which was taken from a makeup artist's portfolio. The MUA might actually have been Goar Avetisyan (https://www.goaronline.com/courses) but the before and after pictures resembled the ones on the link above -- one with absolutely no makeup or hair styling, and then the other with full glam, special occasion makeup and styled hair, a wig, extensions, etc. The way it was presented was "LOOK! HERE'S PROOF W*MEN AREN'T ACTUALLY HOT! WAKE UP SHEEPLE! THEY'RE LYING TO YOU! ILLUMINATI EXPOSED!!!!"

I can see why they're mad, because the dishonesty surrounding makeup, but especially photoshop, plastic surgery, posing, and airbrushing can get toxic. I'm old enough to remember the old-fashioned mindset where women were supposed to hide their "beauty secrets". Don't apply makeup in public, keep your roots touched up so nobody knows they're dyed, and if you have any treatments or surgery always deny having them. Wear your makeup to bed, then wake up early and fix it before your guy sees you.

I couldn't imagine how awful I would feel if I had Instagram or TikTok when I was growing up. I had enough moments of feeling frustrated because I didn't naturally look how other people looked, and I didn't realize that people in TV and movies were wearing makeup, that magazine ads were photoshopped, etc. Just being an extremely average-looking human being with no concept of basic grooming, comparing myself to other kids at school was hard enough without the rapist-run media adding another layer of bullshit.

When I realized the layers of lies, it was like...how long have I been wasting my time and money on this totally made-up problem? How much did I actually improve my life and happiness chasing it? Or, did it actually make me more miserable? How much could I have accomplished if I put the same amount of angst into a different pursuit -- instead of fixing my face, I could have been fixing my art...When it comes to pursuing an unattainable ideal, there is no end to the horror.

So, I suppose, when a group of men (...boys, whatever) realize that "hot women" are a spook, and the the ethereal creature they've been told by society to put on a pedestal is actually not far removed from them, and it shits and farts, it seems very reasonable to feel angry and like you've been taken for a ride by "the system". It can be easy to blame women for this, and hate them. And it's probably easy to get stuck here.

Instead of being perpetually angry, they have to mourn the death of this ethereal spook-woman, and move on with an acceptance of reality as it is. Women, too, have to kill and mourn the spook-woman as part of self-acceptance.

One positive evolution of the makeup fandom is that while the makeup has gotten more intense and elaborate, makeup tutorials have demystified makeup. When tutorials started to become popular, there was a lot of "Excuse my eye-circles, excuse my pimple, excuse my skin, excuse my hair, excuse my lighting, excuse my room, excuse my, excuse my, excuse, excuse, excexcexcexCEXEXEXEXEXEX- *boom*" and thankfully someone eventually came along ($10 says it was a drag queen) and said, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, NOBODY CARES," and eventually the makeup fandom became okay with letting a bare face be a bare face. You wear the makeup, you don't wear the makeup. It doesn't matter. It's just a hobby.

To refer back to my original point, the confusion of makeup (something culturally feminine) with biological femininity has really fucked up both men and women. Everyone is better off extracting the two from one another, and it seems like many people are in the process of doing that. It helps women hate themselves less, and it helps men humanize women and have better relationships.

However, the image of the spook-woman, "10/10 model" is so ingrained in some parts of the culture, as the apex of the vertex of femininity, that despite complaints about how makeup is a lie, discarding that in favor of just a healthy, bare-faced woman feels like embracing post-modernity and a slippery slope to embracing ugliness as beauty. I think the lack of exaggerated femininity that spook-woman makeup provides feels threatening because the woman's face looks more masculine in a purely relative sense. The exaggerated femininity of the spook-woman, as it is for the Evangelical Christians who follow strict gender roles, provides additional separation between the sexes which serves to reassure men who are A) preoccupied with their level of masculinity and B) hyper-aware of their standing toward the bottom of this hierarchy of masculinity. I think the entire hierarchy benefits from them being placated by more separation from women, because if the bottom whatever percent of men are too dissatisfied with their standing, they may start punching upwards or wanting to attack the hierarchy itself. The men at the top don't want that because of the benefits they receive for being at the top.

MGTOW and the incel movement really kicked off after Gamergate, and intensified with subsequent "waves" of feminism. The discontent men direct their frustration at women, but they also direct their frustration at the men not troubled by what women do. There's suddenly a lot of interest in whether you're an alpha, a beta, a gamma, omega, a sigma, a ligma male, etc. and which one is the better type of male to be. There's a lot of hatred for "Chads" and I see a lot of jealousy directed toward men who are married and have families, usually in the form of "She's just gonna divorce you, take half your shit, and then manipulate your kids to hate you. You'll see...you'll realize you should have spent your whole life banging whores."

This all seems like the result of the ol' spending money we don't have to buy things we don't need to impress people we don't like. This is undoubtedly the idealist in me, men and women would be better off to cut each other some slack. We could see one another as fellow tragic, flawed individuals instead of fleshlights and ATMs, escape the Matrix and spit in the faces of our rapist, media elite overlords.

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Girl Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky x Reader & Sam x Reader

Rating: Story will be overall Mature but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and some eventual smut once the story reaches that point.

Chapter 8

The sun had gone down by the time Steve and I reached our apartment building. Steve pulled his bike into his usual spot. We went up stairs. Our apartment was at the end of the hall. I heard Kate before I saw her. She was coming out of her apartment with a laundry basket as she spoke on the phone.

"I gotta go though." She said quickly when she noticed us walking towards her.

She hung up the phone and threw it in her basket as Steve and I walked past.

"My aunt, she's kind of a insomniac."

Kate chuckled awkwardly while Steve nodded. I stepped away from them a little bit while they shared an awkward silence.

"Hey, if you want. You're welcome to use my machine." Steve offered.

I just looked at him like he was stupid. Using your machine that's- wait. Holy shit, that's actually genius.

"Might be cheaper than the one in the basement." He added.

Please don't be a dork Steve. Just ask her out!

"Oh yeah? What's it cost?" Kate asked while grinning.

"Cup of coffee?" Steve asked hesitantly.

Yes! That's my boy!

I watched as Kate chuckled. The blush flooding her cheeks was so clear I good see it from a few feet away.

"Thank you, but uh, I already have a load in downstairs and you wouldn't want my scrubs in your machine. I just finished a rotation in the infectious disease ward." She smiled sweetly.

"Ah well, I'll keep my distance." Steve chuckled holding his hands up.

How can a man that looks like he does act like such an adorable dork? Most likely because he use to be one of the biggest dorks I've ever known but that never changed him being my best friend.

"Well hopefully not too far." Kate said quietly as her eyes took all of him in.

Steve turned and started walking towards me.

"Oh and I think you left your stereo on." Kate said from the top of the stairs.

"Oh ok, thank you" Steve smiled stiffly.

When he turned back around he had a confused look on his face. He stepped closer to the door moving his head to listen. I did the same. I could hear his music playing loudly inside.

"We didn't leave that on." I whispered.

He nodded then put his finger against his lips. He pointed for me to stay where I was. I watched him quickly go back down the hall then down the stairs. I waited leaning into the door to listen. I heard faint voices right before the door clicked. I opened it and carefully walked inside.

"Didn't know you were married." Steve said as I closed and locked the door behind me.

I turned around to see Fury leaning forward in Steve's reading chair.

"Lot of things you don't know about about me." Fury said matter of factly.

"I know Nick that's the problem."

Steve moved towards the wall and flipped on the light. I instantly saw how badly Fury looked. The man instantly raised his hand towards us then reached over and pulled the lamp's cord. I watched as Fury typed something on his phone. He turned it around so Steve and I could see the screen.

"EARS EVERYWHERE"

"I'm sorry to have to do this but I had no place else to crash." Fury said calmly as he typed again.

"SHIELD COMPROMISED"

"Who else knows about your wife?" Steve asked him.

"YOU 2 & ME"

"Just my friends" Fury said as he put his phone back in his pocket.

"Is that what we are?" Steve asked a little bitterly.

"That's up to you." Fury said as he stood up.

He took a small step forward. A loud bang rang out only a millisecond before Fury was hit. Two more shots rang out then Fury fell to the floor. I screamed running to hide behind Steve. He pushed me backwards into the kitchen then grabbed Fury's arms to pull him inside the room as well.

Fury groaned as he stretched his arm out to Steve. I could see something small in his hand.

"Don't trust anyone" Fury said with a shaky voice.

The sound of the door being kicked in had me on my feet. Steve did the same his shield at the ready.

"Captain Rogers?" Kate's voice drifted into the kitchen.

Kate could see us in the kitchen as she walked into the apartment.

"Captain, I'm agent 13. Shield special service." She said entering the kitchen.

"Kate?" Steve questioned in surprise.

"I've been assigned to protect you." She informed him.

"You protect him?" I asked pointing to her then to Steve.

"On whose orders?" He questioned.

She walked around him to look down at Fury.

"His" she said simply as she dropped to the floor.

She checked his pulse then pulled a walkie from somewhere on her person.

"Foxtrot is down he's unresponsive I need EMTs." She spoke into the device.

"Do we have a twenty on the shooter?" The voice on the other end asked.

"Tell them I'm in pursuit." Steve said switching into soldier mode.

"What?" I questioned in disbelief as I ran after him.

He jumped threw the window using his shield to cover himself. I ran to the now broken window to see where he had landed. He jumped across the street into the other building. He went right threw the window. I huffed then stepped back so I could get a running start. I jumped easily making it threw the other already broken window. There was a clear open path in front of me. I ran as fast as I could following the trail of busted down doors, shattered glass, and holes in the walls. I turned a corner to see Steve just ahead of me. He jumped out of another window on to the the adjacent roof. I could see another person running in front of him. As soon as I jumped out of the window Steve threw his shield at the other man. I landed in a roll then jumped up to my feet next to Steve. The man running turned around just in time. His metal looking arm grabbed Steve's shield with ease.

He had a mask on covering most of his face. I could only see his wild eyes. His long dark hair hung mostly in his face. He looked straight at Steve as he held his shield. I could see his eyes shift to me. They seemed to widen. It was like he had to force himself to look away from me and back to Steve. He suddenly threw the shield back to Steve so hard it pushed the blonde backwards. Then he jumped right off the roof. Steve and I ran to the end to find what direction he went but he had disappeared. He was absolutely no where in sight.

"What the hell?" I asked turning to Steve.

"I have no idea." He looked down to the street in confusion.

---

I stood next to Steve as we watched the doctors work threw the large glass window. Fury laid their unconscious. His life in the surgeon's hands. The door behind us came open revealing a distraught Natasha. She came to the window looking worse than I had ever seen her.

I excused myself. I didn't want to watch what they were doing any longer. I just couldn't stomach it. It wasn't long until Nat, Steve, and the new woman Hill came out of the room. I knew immediately what had happened from the silent tears on both Hill's and Nat's cheeks.

They were given a few minutes alone with Fury's body. Once again I chose to wait in the hall. I didn't know Fury like they did. Plus I didn't deal well with death.

When they finally emerged again Hill left without a word. Natasha and Steve came to stand next to me. Nat was obviously upset and Steve didn't seem to be helping.

"Rogers, they want you back at Shield." Rumlow said from behind Steve.

Steve turned to look him. He nodded.

"Ok, give me a second." Steve said to Rumlow.

"They want you now." Rumlow said sternly.

Steve looked at him like he had two heads.

"Ok" Steve said.

"Willow, do me a favor. Go back to the apartment pack two bags. Then see if you can find Sam. I might need him. If you find him or not just wait for my call."

"Are you sure? I can go with you." I said trying not to worry too much for my friend.

"You trust me?" He asked.

"With my life" I answered without hesitation.

"Good. Now go." He ordered with a nod of his head.

---

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