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corruptedcaps · 4 months

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Bad Blonde

This is a repost of as story I made on Wordpress when I migrated over there briefly. Will repost the next parts over the next few days

Lucy and her girlfriend Dora were enjoying a lovely Saturday searching for some unique finds at a variety of thrift stores. Being poor college students this was more of a necessity than anything else but they did get a thrill from finding long forgotten fashions. This didn't get them many friends on campus however as their tastes were mocked for being outdated and weird but they didn't care because they had each other's like minded company.

It was getting late and Lucy was getting tired but Dora wanted to check out one more store she spotted down an alley off the main street. Lucy didn't like the look of the dark empty alley but didn't want to admit she was scared.

"Don't you have work soon? Do we really have time for another store?" Lucy said to Dora trying to dissuade her.

"I have time as long as I go straight there from here. Come on we might discover a real find!" Dora said excitedly already walking into the alley. Lucy begrudgingly followed her.

The little bell above the shop door clanged as they entered the store finding it to be somehow even darker inside than it was outside. A heavily tattooed woman sat behind the counter not acknowledging their presence. The shelves were filled with odd knick knacks and items and most of the clothes were dark and tight looking. Lucy couldn't see a single thing that fit her style. However something did catch her eye.

In the back amongst a line of black wigs on mannequin heads sat a lone blonde wig. It was incredibly straight and smooth like it was made out of spun gold. The blonde colour was like a beacon to Lucy in the sea of dark shades and she felt drawn over to it. Picking it up it felt somehow even softer than she thought it would be and incredibly real.

As a lifelong brunette she had always been curious what she would look like with a different colour although strangely never wondered what blonde would look like. She always associated blonde with the mean girls who bullied her in high school or the spoilt sorority girls in college. Even the mannequin head that the wig had been sitting on looked bitchy. Lucy being the kind and gentle woman that she was, never entertained what being blonde could look like but as she held the wig in her hands she suddenly had a great desire to find out.

Slipping it on felt like putting on a snug glove. With a little tuck here and there the seams of the wig completed disappeared along with any visible signs of her brown locks. Finding a mirror she was almost taken aback by how different she looked. It may have been because the mirror was dirty and it was dark in the store but Lucy could have sworn her skin looked clearer and her lips looked fuller. Her postured shifted slightly the more she looked at her reflection.

With a hand on her hips and her chest sticking out she was suddenly reminded of all the mean blondes she had ever met and it sent a shiver down her spine. Although not out fear but out of pride. She was liking the way she looked.

"You look so good." Said an unfamiliar voice that sounded almost like it was in her head.

"What?" Lucy replied confused.

"I said you look good as a blonde." Dora said, Lucy having failed to realise she had been beside her the whole time. She put the mysterious voice down to Dora and focused on her reflection again.

"I do don't I?" Lucy said stroking the hair as if it were a part of her.

"Go on give me a go." Dora said reaching up to take the wig from her but Lucy reflexively slapped her hand away. A sudden flood of anger surged up in her.

"As if, you'd only ruin it with your big fat head." Lucy hissed at Dora as she looked her up and down like she was disgusted by her very existence. Tears welled up in Dora's eyes and she ran out of the shop. For a fleeting moment Lucy felt triumphant, even pleasure of what she did but then her conscience got the better of her. Ripping off the wig and stuffing it unconsciously into her bag she ran out of the store after Dora. She finally caught up with her girlfriend who was sitting on a bench gently sobbing.

"Honey I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me. You know I didn't mean it right?" Lucy said sitting down beside her. Dora looked up at her wiping her tears from her eyes.

"Yeah, I guess. Sorry you know I am just a little sensitive about my weight. I probably over reacted, I shouldn't have tried to take the wig from your head." Dora said.

"You don't need to apologise, I was the one being a bitch. Look to make it up to you I'll buy tonights dinner and we can have it when you get back from work." Lucy said putting her arm around her but Dora quickly broke from the embrace and stood.

"Oh shoot I had forgot about work, I better go otherwise they'll dock my pay. I'll see you at home later. Love you." Dora said quickly hurrying away. Lucy blew her a kiss and headed home herself.

Arriving back a little while later Lucy tiredly went into her bedroom. Throwing her backpack on the bed she slumped beside it exhausted. Closing her eyes she knew she could almost fall asleep there and then but knew she should keep to her promise and get food for when Dora would be back. Opening her eyes she was surprised to see the blonde wig from the shop staring right at her. Sitting up she saw the zipper of her bag open and suddenly she remebered.

"Oh damn I must have stuffed it into my bag during all the drama with Dora. The store will be closed by now so I'll have to drop it back tomorrow. Hopefully they don't think I'm some thief." She said taking the wig in her hands and walking over to her mirror.

"It is such a wonderful wig though. Now that it's here it would be a shame if I didn't try it on again." She said to herself as her hands were already guiding it onto her head. Once again she marvelled at how fast it slipped snuggly onto her head and how her own hair seemed to vanish.

"God it does look fantastic on me doesn't it. I look kind of sexy as a blonde. Kind of naughty too." She said letting her hand slip into her panties to touch her increasingly wet pussy. Closing her eyes she started to picture how she would look to be a blonde all the time. Doing so turning herself on more. That's where she heard the voice again.

"You know what would be even hotter? If you opened your eyes, took off those glasses of yours and watched yourself finger yourself." The voice whispered. This time Lucy didn't question where the voice was coming from, instead she did as it suggested. Opening her eyes she removed her glasses and watched as she slid her fingers in and out of her pussy slowly. She didn't have to imagine what it would be like to be blonde, she could just watch herself.

"Oh fuck why is this so much hotter?" Lucy said increasing her pace slightly unable to take her eyes off herself.

“Because it’s so dirty! You love how slutty you look with me on your head.” The wig replied clueing Lucy into where the voice was coming from. Lucy nodded in agreement. She should have been concerned that she was hearing an inanimate object suddenly speak to her but its suggestions were hitting all the right spots too much to care. This was something she would never normally do but with the blonde wig on she felt empowered and mischievous. She felt sexually charged knowing how so unlike her this was.

“Oh fuck you’re right! I look so gorgeous and hawt as a blonde! Almost as good as those sorority bitches.” Lucy said, her voice taking on a bratty whine.

“It’s a good start but let’s make some improvements. When I’m done with you those girls won’t even be in your league.” The wig said.

Immediately Lucy felt her body start to twist, shift & change. All the while she continued to pleasure herself.

First to change was her extra flab around her midsection. She watched in awe as it sunk into her belly. Not only that but she felt little pulses rhythmically hit her stomach. Each new pulse tightened her abdomen making it perfectly toned like that of a gym bunny. This extended out to her legs and arms too giving her a peak physique.

She felt instantly arrogant about her new athletic form as she observed it in the mirror and knew other girls would be jealous of her. She loved the thought of others green with envy about her.

“I feel so strong and flexible. God it’s so intoxicating!” Lucy moaned her hands soaking wet with pleasure.

“We’re only getting started my dear.” The wig said with mischief in its tone. No sooner had it said those words that Lucy felt her body start to lightly vibrate. As it did she felt all hair below her neck start to fall off her body giving her a perfectly smooth form. She felt it most immediately around her pussy. She was so distracted by it that she almost failed to register her skin take on a light tan head to toe.

“Mmmm I’m beach ready looking like this. I can see it now, me sitting looking like a million bucks lounging on a deck chair in designer sunglasses. Guys and girls flocking to my side. Oh god I want it now!” Lucy cried out imagining the tight animal print bikini she would wear while continuing to massage her clit.

“That will be your reality soon just a few more tweaks… oh this one may interrupt you for just a moment.” The wig continued and it certainly did as Lucy felt her nails double in length. She gasped as the fingers inside her suddenly caused extra sensitivity. The gasp quickly turned into a deep cackle. She loved how the new nails felt in and outside of her.

By now her mind was swimming with dirty and bad thoughts. How could it not when she looked every bit the bratty bitch she used to hate. She now knew why hot girls always looked down on her. She felt superior now. She felt herself recoil remembering how she used to look only minutes ago.

There was one thing missing though and somehow Lucy knew the wig wouldn’t give it to her unless she explicitly asked for it.

“I feel like such a hawt little slut now but if I’m to become queen bitch I need one more upgrade and I need it to be big. Make my boobs grow! Give me big perfect tits!” Lucy demanded and the wig obliged.

Lucy moaned as her chest heaved as her two petit breasts grew substantially bigger. The previous slight sag she had completely erased, replaced by gravity defying perfection. She took a moment from touching herself to massage her new tits lovingly.

“Fuck yes! I am perfection! Pathetic Lucy is gone! The mean uber bitch Lucia has been born.” She moaned sticking her fingers back in her pussy, inching towards climax. She looked upon her new body with vain satisfaction. Smirking she thought about how as Lucy she would shrink into the shadows in the presence of such beauty but as Lucia she would never be in dark anymore. Others would shrink from her.

“When you cum you’ll release enough endorphins to allow me to burrow deep into your head. You’ll make the bitch queen Lucia permanent. No one will stand in your way. You’ll become the meanest, hottest bully in town and your first victim can be that pitiful girlfriend of yours.” The wig said with a long cold laugh inside Lucia’s mind. However something didn’t feel right. She wanted this power so much but could she sacrifice her relationship to have it?

“No Dora can be left out of this, she is weak & ugly but meaningless. I won’t bully her.” Lucia said ever slightly slowing her pace as her conscience started to intrude.

“Don’t you see? She’s holding you back from achieving greatness! No one is above your power and you must embrace that! You have to destroy everything Lucy had if you are to become Lucia. Perhaps a little more incentive is needed.” The wig hissed and Lucia felt her tits grow even more, her waist further clenched and her butt grew out. Lucia moaned as the pleasure became unbelievable.

“Mmm maybe you’re right, that loser is standing in my way of achieving what I deserve! I need to drop her like the heavy weight that she is. No! What am I saying? She’s the love of my life and you’re evil! You’ve turned me into a cruel and egotistical narcissistic. I have to stop this now!” Lucia yelled reaching up to remove the wig.

The wig increased the changes, her face became steely cold, her nails even longer, it even mustered enough dark magic to change Lucia’s clothes into something tight and form fitting. Lucia smirked at how gorgeous she was, how powerful she had become but it was all in vain as she used all her willpower to rip the wig off.

Once the wig was off her body reverted back to her normal unremarkable form. Lucy had returned. However she instantly felt like she was in withdrawal. The thoughts of being Lucia lingered in her mind like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She needed to get the wig out of there.

Carefully rolling it up in a garbage bag she stuffed it into their freezer for the time being. As much as she wanted to get rid of it she just couldn’t compel herself to do it. Heading to bed she hoped that by the morning the hunger to wear it would subside…

To be continued…

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #evil wig #corrupted wig #corrupted hair

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genderqueerdykes · 1 year

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Being Plural IRL: Telling People, Living Your Lives, & Other Tips.

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We have been living as a system for 10 years now, and it's one of the first things new people notice about us when meeting us. We've had people tell us they could 'just tell' we were plural before we had ever brought it up. For years we kept it a secret, acting as though other people wouldn't notice, or would always have a bad reaction, but sometime ago, sometimes all it takes is providing that person with exposure to plurality that helps them understand that it is a real phenomenon.

There will always be people who don't believe in plurality, and people who believe only those with disordered plurality can be plural. This is a constant, but there's also a wide variety of people in between with a mixture of reactions, most of which involve acceptance. Even if someone doesn't understand the concept, I've found it's more common that someone will play along and try to grasp on to it as you give them more information.

If someone doesn't have an IRL reference, it can be hard for them to digest that something is real. I think people think that even systems on YouTube, TikTok, twitter, and so on are faking because there's a level of disconnect, not because they 100% genuinely believe that plurality is false. I really think it is the disconnect from the experience that causes most people to have such repulsion and negative opinions.

Stay casual, avoid using medical terms & overly clinical definitions and terms your first few conversations when bringing up plurality to someone who doesn't know anything about it. The best way I've found to bring it up to people in a way that helps them believe what you are saying, is to be casual, but informative, and say something to the effect of "Oh, I look and sound different today because you are talking to a different person who lives in this body. There are others in here and this will happen sometimes, nice to meet you," or "You met [headmate] last time, I'm [name], several people live in this body." Something like that. Confidence is key, the more assertive you are with your language, the more it becomes apparent you are serious.

Avoid dumping on people with very specific and in depth system terms (protector, host, little, switching, co-fronting, etc.) right away, and it's especially best if you don't go into origin labels or "types" of systems unless that person specifically asks what you think caused your system, or what causes some people to be plural. Unless someone asks, the origin story really isn't worth it and I've found that adds a layer of confusion for some singlets, because they weren't thinking super hard about it to begin with, but now the concept has become way more complicated and confusing.

Honestly the best way to approach it naturally is to just mention the names, pronouns, identities, accents, voices, and styles of dress of any headmates they may commonly see. Give them indicators as to who they can potentially look out for. It's alright if you are plural and don't know your system very well, you can tell people you're still getting to know them, or that you personally struggle with communicating with the others, but they will get to meet them. You don't have to make it super complicated and you don't have to come up with information if you don't have any. If people ask how many of you there are and you don't know, it's okay to say you don't know. We personally don't find that question helpful and try to avoid answering it because we literally just don't know.

Be patient with people who are just finding out about plurality, they are not going to know how to keep up with switches right away, especially if your system is quite large. They will get confused, not notice switches, not be able to identify folks at first and that's okay. Especially if you are a covert system it can be hard at times, be patient and willing to work with people, especially if you are literally the first plural person they have ever met.

Living your own lives can be tricky- it can require a little extra income at times to do certain things, such as expanding your wardrobe to include outfits and accessories for others, but it doesn't have to get outlandish. Many headmates in a system find they have different styles of dress and fashion. That is a perfect way to get people to be able to recognize who is out is to allow that system member to dress in a way that makes them feel safe, comfortable, and like themselves. You don' thave to buy entire new outfits if you are very poor, you can often times make accessories or have small indicators like pins or bracelets that help show who is out.

Having different places that you frequent for different headmates helps a lot. Introducing yourself as different people in different places can often times be a good way to test how you feel about your own plurality, as well as a really cool way to feel more accepted and like yourselves. These two places can be completely unrelated, so these people who know you by another name may never know your host's or body's name, and may never know otherwise. It's a very cool way to get yourself used to introducing yourselves as different people.

Having different social groups, groups of friends, social media pages, chat groups/servers, etc. who know you by your different headmates' names can also help a lot as well. Sometimes, system members want their own friends independent of the rest of the system. Sometimes, a headmate needs to be themselves and feel like they are a person in control of a body for some time. It's okay to foster an environment where everyone can feel like an individual. You can use apps like Simply Plural to help organize your system, and you can create different pages on social media sites, different tumblr blogs, pinterest pages, join different Discord servers, Facebook groups, and so on.

Allowing different headmates to engage in different hobbies, if they have differing hobbies, is also very crucial. Even one small activity like allowing one system member to journal for a bit a day, or letting someone work out at the gym, or watch movies, or whatever it may be can help someone feel a lot more like themselves. Even if the rest of your system doesn't care for it, if you can allow that one person to do it for a bit, it can help tremendously.

Doing activities with each other when possible is also very crucial. Watching shows, playing games, eating, going on walks, and even dates together can be very healthy activities that can help your system grow, flourish, and understand who they are. You are absolutely allowed to socialize with your other selves and use that as an opportunity to find out what makes each of you yourselves, if that is something you are capable of doing, or, would like to work toward. Acknowledgement from another system member goes a long way, and socializing with one another helps strengthen your internal views of one another.

Learning your different system members' favorite foods, perfumes, scents, toys, games, etc. and surprising them with little gifts, and letting others know that they enjoy being surprised with small things (like sweets for example) can also help. Positive triggers are a big part of the experience- triggers do not have to be negative all the time, they can be positive and even neutral. Discovering what things trigger you to front can be beneficial, as you can learn how to pull people out when needed or just wanted, especially if that person has expressed desire about fronting for long periods of time, but struggles to do so.

Not every single person in your system has to have a different voice, style of dress or presentation, or "feel" completely different. It's okay if you all have to introduce yourselves. It's okay if you have to remind people who's fronting. Many systems have members that look and sound very similar, and may even be very similar if not versions of the same person. That's alright, too. You still deserve to be acknowledged for being separate people.

I hope this helps some folks approach the concept of telling IRL strangers and friends that you are plural. It's frightening at first but I've found that if you keep it simple and express it in a way that's natural for you, instead of trying to adhere to a dictionary definition, you will find some more success. Of course, if someone reacts negatively, there's a chance you may not be able to get them to see your way, but it's better to figure that out for sure. That doesn't mean you have to stop living as a plural.

Johnny

#our writing #wordpress #plurality #plural #pluralgang #plural gang #plural system #system stuff #long post

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simmysunset · 3 months

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Whoever Loves Her Next - 07

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Throughout the next few weeks after I told my parents, the name of the game was avoidance. I was avoiding everything possible when it came to even thinking about Harry, but the world made this harder on me than I ever would have thought.

I should have known before ever getting on the plane to Florida that I would be caught by paparazzi there. It hardly took 24 hours for the pictures to spread all over social media, along with the presumptions from both fans and magazines. Most of them were correct in assuming I was pregnant, but neither Harry or I had taken to the press to confirm anything. I know he wouldn’t want to say something to anyone without my permission. As for me, I refuse to step back into the spotlight before I’m ready.

It takes a couple days and one post in particular for me to decide to log out of all my social medias for the time being. It was a short video clip from the night of the concert before we lost Michael, one that I had been refusing to see ever since it started spreading.

It shows Harry’s face the very moment he saw Alex offstage, signaling him to come off despite them being in the midst of a song. He didn’t hesitate. He nearly dropped his guitar and sprinted off the stage, knowing just by a glance that something was wrong. The video ends abruptly as everyone in the audience realized that something was happening. I held my phone against my chest and fought back the tears at the memories rushing through my mind.

From that moment, I knew I couldn’t handle anymore bombardment from the fans and press. I didn’t even announce my departure from my accounts, I just logged out without a word to anyone. If anyone I knew needed to contact me, they’d have to do it through a text or phone call.

The avoidance came in other ways, too. My coworkers had been asking about my trip, but I brushed it aside every time they brought it up. Occasionally, I would hear two of the younger staff members whispering when I would step into the break room for a drink. I knew it was about me, and yet, I still did my best to ignore it.

On top of that, I had put off making an appointment with my OBGYN almost every day. My annual exam wasn’t for another few months, so she would know something was up the moment I called. I hadn’t even worked up the courage to search for the office’s phone number yet. The closest I got was sitting on my bed in near tears, clinging onto the pregnancy test with one hand as the other wiped at my eyes.

I knew one of the hardest parts of being pregnant again would be telling my friends. I could hardly even admit it to myself, so saying it to another person felt like mission impossible. One of my closest friends, Clarissa, was the first one I told and was completely out of the blue.

She insisted on taking me shopping to get me out of the house, as she knew how depressed I was, but not the reason why. Her intentions were good, but all I could think about as she sifted through the racks of clothes was that soon, I’d be outgrowing all of mine due to the little person in my stomach.

“What you really need is a new dress,” Clarissa insisted. “A night out on the town with me and some hot guys is the perfect way to make yourself feel alive again.”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled as we went to the next rack, this one being full of short, glittery dresses. “I don’t really need new party clothes.”

“Well, then what part of the store do you want to go to?” She asked.

My stomach started twisting into a knot as I spoke. “Maybe the maternity section?”

The moment the words fall out of my mouth, I can feel her eyes on me. Her lips are parted not only in surprise, but worry. She knows how terrifying pregnancy is for me now, but I can tell that she is so shocked she doesn’t know what to say. I do it for her as the tears begin welling up in my eyes.

“I didn’t go on vacation. I went to Harry.” My voice wavers when I speak his name, and she reaches out to rest a hand on my shoulder while I wipe at my eyes to stop them from overflowing.

“He’s just so different from who he was,” I tell her. “And I know I’m different, too, it’s just…”

“Scary?” Clarissa assumes correctly, and I nod in response. “Are you scared that you’re too different to get back together?”

I huff in frustration when a tear manages to escape. I quickly wipe it away as I reply. “I’m scared of that; I’m scared of losing the baby. I’m scared of everything. To move too much or breathe too hard. I’m scared I could fuck it all up again and make him fall back into the pit he was in a few months ago.”

“You didn’t fuck anything up, babe.” She pulls me by my shoulder to enter a hug. This only makes me want to cry more. “And you can’t bend over backwards for him to try keeping him away from the pit. You have to focus on staying away from it yourself.”

A sob erupts from the back of my throat, and I squeeze her tightly. “I don’t know how to stay away when every day, I seem to be a little closer to the edge.”

“That’s what you have me for,” she assures me. “I’ll always be here to bring you back, okay?”

I sniffle as I rest my head against her. “Okay.”

beginning | previous | next

#sorry it's been a while #my motivation for this story dropped to 0 #but i'm slowly getting back into it #anyways i love clarissa #*whoever loves her next #sims 4 story #sims 4 storytelling

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whimsicaldragonette · 10 days

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Blog Tour: The Bump by Sidney Karger

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Publication Date: June 1, 2024

Welcome to The Bump Blog Tour with Berkley Publishing Group. (This Blog Tour post is also posted on my Wordpress book blog Whimsical Dragonette.)

Synopsis:

Two men expecting a baby via surrogate go on the road trip of a lifetime in this hilarious and poignant novel by Sidney Karger, author of Best Men. Wyatt Wallace is a practical, super organized director of TV commercials. Biz Petterelli is a child-actor-turned-magazine-writer who thrives on spontaneity. Though polar opposites, they are fully committed to their relationship and their life in Brooklyn with their dog, Matilda. They’re also about to have a baby together. And they’re freaking out. They’ve both dreamed of becoming parents, but now that it’s happening, they’re doubting everything. Their baby is due in a few weeks and instead of flying to California just before the birth as planned, Biz has a better idea. They could use one last hurrah, along with some serious “us-time” to mend the issues they’ve been having lately—before they get tied down by fatherhood and its impending responsibilities. So the daddies-to-be load up their 1992 Volkswagen Cabriolet and embark on an epic cross-country babymoon. They attempt to recharge at the beach in Provincetown, stumble through their impromptu baby shower in Chicago, and endure a Star Wars -themed wedding in Colorado before heading west for the baby. But when they take several unexpected detours, old wounds are reopened and secrets spill out that could change their relationship for better or for worse, forcing the couple to reexamine the meaning of family while building their own. After all, what’s a road trip without a few bumps along the way?

My Rating: ★★★

*My Review below the cut.

My Review:

This was good, if a bit over the top for me. It was campy in a way that just doesn't appeal to me because it didn't really feel authentic and I could never get behind the characters 100% even though I did find many parts amusing.

What I really did appreciate was the topic. Road trip? Been done. Two men on a save the relationship road trip to reconnect before their baby is delivered? I haven't seen that before. If it had been slightly less over-the-top and I'd found the characters more relatable, I would have absolutely loved it.

As it was clearly intended to be a humorous and somewhat campy road trip, the situations and characters encountered, including Wyatt and Biz's family members and friends, were all over the top to the point that they felt like stereotypes. But then sometimes they would break through the stereotype and feel more real, and that I did enjoy.

It was told in alternating POV style, but for some reason whenever we were in Wyatt's POV and Biz said something, the dialogue tag would be Wyatt saying how Biz felt about it. The same happened in Biz's POV when Wyatt spoke. It was really strange and kept taking me out of the story because it didn't make sense for the characters to know what the other person was thinking, so maybe it was all assumptions? But it happened just about every time anything was said.

Wyatt and Biz also argued and were resentful and childish toward one another for the entire book. I was hoping they'd work things out, and a couple times thought they might, and then they'd revert to sniping at each other. It didn't give me a whole lot of confidence about their ability to handle actually raising a child together. The way it's told it's as if seeing the baby delivered magically fixes everything, cue the adorable 6 years later epilogue.

I liked it enough to continue to read the whole book, however, and I think it will appeal to a lot of people. Especially those who enjoy campy over the top humor.

*Thanks to NetGalley and Berkley for providing an early copy for review.

#shilo reads #arc review #netgalley #queer books #berkley books #berkley publishing #berkley #the bump #sidney karger

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idohistorysometimes · 9 months

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okay here’s a question you’ve probably gotten before- what’s the weird historical misconception you’ve run into?

I once met someone who was COMPLETELY convinced that Victorian corsets deformed skeletons and made it hard to breathe (kind of true?) and that Victorian women slept sitting up slightly because otherwise their lungs would fill with fluid and they would die (not at all true, what the fuck?). Or maybe that they believed this would happen? Seems really easy to disprove but idk

That misconception about corsets has some truth to it. But not much.

"tight lacing" aka wearing your corset so tight you could faint or in some cases break a rib DID happen but only within small portions of the upper upper class. Not only are corsets not built for that type of abuse (IE the tension they would be strung at), they are also at their core support garments. Think of them like a bra and back brace combo. Provided you have one made to your size and you are wearing it correctly it should not interfere with your ability to go about your day (chores included). With that all said though some women did wear them really tight and that could do some damage to your insides over time given it's constricting rather than supporting. Some tight lacing related injuries did happen due to prolonged usage of the practice but they were drastically over reported. In reality only very few people did that. Usually the Victorians would either add padding in places or literally doctor images (like Photoshop) to give the allusion of that small waist look.

As for my favorite misconception, it has to be the "people were smaller back then because the clothing/furniture/doorframes were smaller" thing mostly because of how often I hear it. I addressed it in a longer post on my WordPress but the jist of it is I think people just kind of go off of what they see and make assumptions off of that and nothing else. It isn't that stupid since I can see the logic. But people were not really all that smaller (there is literally only a difference by a couple centimeters) and a lot of the reason why things are smaller is just items not used as often, thermal regulation in buildings, and no consistent furniture sizes along with carpentry errors and or specific functionality needs.

I also get a lot of people who are unaware that the Victorian era was not really that long ago and that cars, phones, movies, chemical testing, germ theory, and Dr pepper all existed during the 1800s. It isnt like the mayflower, we have technology lol

#history #museum #history museum #museam #living history #museum work #historical interpreter #historical reenactment #historian #living history museum #museum professional

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emblazonet · 3 months

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My websites are created through wordpress, this is the only place I post 'regularly', and I've got two Funguary pieces I want to share, and I just... don't want to post art anywhere. I hate the way my pieces look Glazed. I hate worrying about algorithms, and I was just trying to get ok with posting again when along came AI.

Do I learn how to code my own website? That'll take time, but I could have a cool retro-esque neocities(or something) site. Then I wouldn't be dependent on wordpress. Except that I don't super love coding, I'd need to relearn and learn new worksets, and it's a lot of work for something no one might ever see. I'm not great at HTML or CSS and I'm just... Wordpress is what I know.

It just all feels so hopeless. I was never good at audience-building back when social media was 'better' for artists, and yeah I do want to sell stuff someday because I love it when my art makes ppl happy and also I like eating and it'd be great to quit my dayjob if possible, but there's such a sense of futility to it all.

#personal post #ai art #tumblr shenanigans #honestly fuck you automattic #wordpress isn't my webhost at least #I'm not sure if my websites are getting scraped #but this whole thing sucks #it sucks so much

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bitchesgetriches · 2 years

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Conventional wisdom says that if you want to make a career transition, you need to train for a new industry while still working your current job. Get an MBA! Go to night school! Do an internship! Apprentice on the weekends! Network! Beg for informational interviews!

I’m obviously not one for conventional wisdom. Which is why I also recommend you… start a weirdly specific hobby with your college roommate???

Kitty and I started Bitches Get Riches when we were both full-time employees—a graphic designer and a book editor, respectively. We’d both been in our careers for about six years, and gotten fewer promotions than we deserved. We liked our work, but we’d smoothed out all its most exciting challenges long ago. We had the mental bandwidth for a new endeavor.

So we started Bitches Get Riches.

We never viewed it as a money-making venture. (In fact, it was a money-sucking venture.) We never tried to make it seem more polished or professional than we wanted to. (BGR: proudly rocking the same free WordPress theme since 2016.)

It was for fun! It was a way to work together, express ourselves, promote interesting ideas, and maybe help a couple of people along the way.

We’ve always taken pride in being self-taught. Our personal finance advice is for Real Amuricans™! Give us your tired, your poor, the huddled masses who need to bust out a tip calculator for a $19 lunch bill!

Essentially, I was becoming an amateur expert in personal finance—a field that had nothing to do with my chosen vocation of book publishing—while operating as if I had one career path and one career path alone. I quietly built up expertise and contacts in a second industry, keeping that second iron in the fire with no idea it could lead to a career transition someday.

My self-administered education in personal finance was taking up a significant amount of my personal time. I probably dedicated as much time and mental real estate to BGR as some people spend getting a grad degree. It’s just that I wasn’t viewing it as actual job training. I certainly didn’t see it as a path to a career transition!

So when the time came to decide if I would transition away from publishing and into another industry, I didn’t just have a lightbulb moment. I walked face-first into a solar flare.

- My Career Transition Succeeded When I Gave Fewer Fucks, Made More Friends, and Had More Fun

#career advice #career transition #new career

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sakunataa · 1 year

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February 1st Status Report Review

I'm getting close to 1 in the morning, and YandereDev just published a fresh blog entry. Let's analyze.

The finish line is in sight! I am very eager to see what the Tutorial build has in store. Kokona being there definitely makes me happy. Of course, she is a fan favorite, and she is also one of my own favorites. It is wonderful that she will be the focus of the tutorial.

I can see why he would want to change a few things in the cutscene. With such a sizable build, we wouldn't want any errors, or changes left to be desired. I adore it when developers always take care to identify every tiny error and address it appropriately. Dev is really skilled at figuring out what needs to be done and which bugs need to be fixed because every small detail matters.-

However, the new feature or overhaul he is referring to really grabs my attention. Is it a weapon? Elimination method? I'm quite curious.

If you are reading this, Dev? It's ok to occasionally have to push off a new build. It's crucial that you ensure the product is in good condition. What you are doing is trying to make sure that the build comes out in the best state that it can possibly be in, and I'm proud of you. I wouldn't want you to put yourself under pressure! And check out that snazzy preview! Perhaps Kokona will start to ask Ayano for a favorite of some sort? At least, that's the impression I had after looking at this. (There it is again, sleazy YouTube. Naughty company!)

But that second video is what really grabs my attention. The lovely setting and voice… It took me a few listens, but I'm interested in what will happen just based on that! However, I have a slight suspicion that it could be involving Amai. Hmm…

35 bug fixes and 24 improvements! What a tremendous lot of work! I must admit that YandereDev's efforts on these adjustments and modifications is really outstanding. Although I am aware that most people prefer to scan over or simply ignore the bug sections, I have always enjoyed reading them. Despite the fact that I did not personally experience any bugs, I love knowing what was fixed. It will be so much fun to read that WordPress post!

I eagerly await the build and will be patient, whether it comes tomorrow or over the following few days. I've been following along on the Trello website and seeing as each goal is gradually check-marked. And each time, I've been astounded by what has been accomplished. I'm really pleased of YandereDev since he is giving this Tutorial part everything he has. Even while Osana's segment is already fantastic on its own, it is good to have a Kokona tutorial placed in behind it.

Until next time!

#♡ sakuspeaks ♡#♡ yanderedev ♡#♡ ys wordpress review ♡#yanderesimulator #yandere simulator #yansim

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darsynia · 1 year

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Trust Fall | Ch 17b

ARC image by Eury Escodero | screencap from ’neverfeltbetter’ wordpress

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, Tony gets Pepper's help with the ARC, and Emory learns she can uproot trees with her MIND.

Length: 2,783

Taglist: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne

Excerpt:

“Okay, Hogan, I’m sure you have better things to do than watch her dig around in my chest.”

“What? No.” Pepper’s adamant.

“See you, sweetie,�� Happy says, with a huge grin. Pepper’s standing between Tony and Hogan, so Tony can’t see his bodyguard’s face, but his assistant’s expression makes up for it. She’s beet red, her wide eyes begging him not to be upset.

“Calm down, I knew about the two of you from the second I walked out of the plane,” Tony tells her. He leans over and nods at Happy, who is in the doorway. “See ya, Hap.”

“Mr. Stark--” Pepper starts to say.

“Make it up to me by helping me with this,” Tony commands, tapping his chest.

“I can’t believe I missed you,” She takes in a steadying breath. “Okay. What do you need?”

Chapter Seventeen: AU

He hasn’t just broken a toe, he’s broken three of them. As suspected, the doctor offers him a stupid looking shoe and a lot of tape and foam to wrap it in. Tony rejects the shoe but takes the tape and foam. His foot has to be elevated not to hurt like a sonofabitch even with meds, so he sets up in his bedroom at home, reclining like a sultan with his desktop displayed on a projection screen Hogan sets up at the foot of the bed.

Tony spends the rest of that day and the next one designing his new suit.

Emory spends the rest of that day and the next one signing; the ‘new recruit.’

As per Fury, her powers are need-to-know only, so her orientation is the same as anyone who is hired as a SHIELD agent. Along with the paperwork are a series of ‘legacy’ videos to watch, with the outdated information inexpertly erased or added-on over awkward freeze-frames. It’s obvious by the dated nature of the recordings that they’re still being used because of historical significance, but she didn’t realize how much they’d be personally significant.

The first one is an elegant British woman who speaks about the Strategic Scientific Reserve, the precursor to SHIELD. All the rest are Howard Stark.

It feels like a betrayal of her allegiance to see Tony in the man, but she does. Tony’s enthusiasm, wit, and charisma shine through in the footage of his father. Joy and guilt circle each other in her stomach, dampening any power she might have generated from the meagre association she has with this part of the Stark family. Still, as the last seconds of the final video play, and Howard Stark nods respectfully at the screen, her eyes well up.

She’ll never meet this man, but it’s possible that even if she were Tony Stark’s girlfriend, she wouldn’t have an inherent right to see this. There’s a solid chance Tony doesn’t even know they’re being shown-- and she has no intention of risking opening old wounds by telling him. That nod is the best she’ll get for approval from his family, and even though she can guess how Tony would feel about it, she still feels the impact.

But oh, she misses him.

When Tony’s meds wear off, the pain is a motivator. When they’re active, he feels a mix of ire and desire. He’s angry at SHIELD for being domestic, presentable versions of the people he’d flamethrowered in the escape. Of all the similarities and differences between the two groups, it’s just his luck that the American kidnappers would be the ones to keep them strictly separated. Emory should be here with him, in his house, in his room, in his bed, making fun of the ways he’d try to get around his injuries during sex.

If he could, he’d build an arc reactor powerful enough to use the power generated by his sexual frustration to drag her out of the agency’s clutches. Since he can’t, he’ll start with a more efficient version for his chest, and work from there. It’s possible that he’s just a bit salty about being able to achieve a buckled seatbelt but not a satisfying orgasm with his fucked-up arm, now that he has the privacy he’d lacked in the cave.

Soldering at the makeshift workstation in his bedroom hadn’t been ideal, but after Happy had caught him sneaking down to the workshop and nearly carried him back up, Tony chose to improvise. The result is superb if bittersweet; a cleaner, more efficient arc reactor with replaceable fuel capability, but built without Ho Yinsen’s help. Tony almost manages to swap it out by himself, but he’s thwarted by something he probably should have expected: the combination of make-do workmanship in a cave in Afghanistan and genetically large hands. There’s a wire shorting out at the base of his magnet apparatus, and his hand is too big to grab it.

Emory’s hand would fit. The thought makes his heart speed up. Tony groans, dramatically throwing himself back on the pillows piled up behind him, one of which slides over to cover his face. Perfect. He's been trying to focus on wanting her as a way to heighten his sense of urgency without putting his worries about her in overdrive, but his heart is fully engaged, despite his best efforts.

Pepper’s light tap at the door revives him in spirit if not in body. Tony just holds up the new arc reactor like he’s a melted version of the Statue of Liberty and waits.

“Nice,” Happy Hogan says. They’d come in together.

“Oh, wow. You built another one?” Pepper breathes. Tony hears her set down a tray, the various china containers clinking against each other.

“What, like it’s hard?” he asks in his best Elle Woods.

“Why don’t you bend and snap your way into a sitting position, there, counselor, so you can eat something and heal faster?” Pepper says pertly.

Shocked, Tony sits up so fast the pillow goes flying. For some reason he really hadn’t expected her to catch the Legally Blonde reference.

“You don’t remember my resume at all, do you? I was pre-law before I dropped out because of exactly the kind of people she stands up to, in that movie,” she says, crossing her arms and leveling a challenging look at him.

“I knew that,” Happy helpfully supplies.

“I absolutely remember your resume,” Tony lies. “You know what wasn’t on there? Hand size. Hold ‘em up, I need you.”

“To think, I almost applied to work for Kate Winslet instead,” Pepper says under her breath just loud enough for him to hear her. She lifts her chin and comes over to the bed, holding up both hands like a surgeon.

“Happy is a bad influence on you,” he says under his own breath. Louder, Tony says, “Yes, those are very small. Exactly what I need.” Tony holds up the new reactor. “See this? This is the difference between Malibu and Moria.”

“We need to dial down the pain meds, because out of the two of those, Moria wins for metal craftsmanship every time. You know that, right?” Hogan tells him, lifting the glass of green sludge he’d brought from the workshop blender so Tony can see it. His bank of smoothie ingredients had gone bad while he was gone, and replacing them had been unexpectedly tricky.

“Gorgeous. Set that with the tray.” Tony tries to hand the new reactor to Pepper, who backs up, her eyes wide. He shrugs and puts it on the bed beside him as pulls his shirt off, talking the whole time. “‘Cave troll’ is too kind for some of those guys anyway. Was too kind.” The memories of killing to escape don’t include the joy of self rescue, and his resulting dreams carry none of the triumph and relief of getting away. He’s looking forward to having new memories to associate with the device keeping him alive. “They had a video camera pointed at us and still ended up surprised by our escape.”

When he’s done with the shirt, he balls it up to toss it in the direction of his closet, and Pepper clears her throat. Happy starts coughing, but Tony knows he’s masking a laugh.

“Okay, Hogan, I’m sure you have better things to do than watch her dig around in my chest.”

“What? No.” Pepper’s adamant.

“See you, sweetie,” Happy says, with a huge grin. Pepper’s standing between Tony and Hogan, so Tony can’t see his bodyguard’s face, but his assistant’s expression makes up for it. She’s beet red, her wide eyes begging him not to be upset.

“Calm down, I knew about the two of you from the second I walked out of the plane,” Tony tells her. He leans over and nods at Happy, who is in the doorway. “See ya, Hap.”

“Mr. Stark--” Pepper starts to say.

“Make it up to me by helping me with this,” Tony commands, tapping his chest.

“I can’t believe I missed you,” She takes in a steadying breath. “Okay. What do you need?”

“Hey.” Tony reaches out and takes her hand. It’s freezing, so he tugs her closer so he can reach to rub it between both of his. “First, you gotta settle. One wrong move and you’ll put me in cardiac arrest, and that would probably make the papers.” He leans his head back and looks at her critically. “Why aren’t you reassured yet?”

Wild-eyed, Pepper says, weakly, “My half naked boss is holding my hand in his bedroom, explaining how I could accidentally kill him--”

“It’s a good thing for both of our reputations that you’re shacking up with Happy then, right?” Tony laughs, but he lets go of her hands and holds his up in surrender when her worry turns into a sharp glare. “Want me to take you out of my will? Would that help?”

All the color drains from her face.

“No no no, don’t go Casper on me. It’s like, a couple of million for faithful service! Chump change.” Pepper backs away toward the door, and Tony winces. “Come back, I’ll stop! And I need you. My redhead is trapped at SHIELD with her tiny hands held hostage by a possibly evil government agency. This is step one to rescue her, okay? You’re in no danger.”

“Your-- Wait, SHIELD? Is it the guy who gave me the card?” she asks.

“Yep.” Tony shifts the arc reactor in his chest a quarter turn and pulls it out just enough to show her the wiring.

“They kidnapped her?” Pepper walks slowly back toward him, but when Tony holds out the new reactor for her to hold, she shakes her head again.

“A lot happened in that cave, Pepper. Situations and technology that bad people might want to exploit. They’re claiming they need her knowledge to stop one of those people.”

“Do you believe them?”

“No.”

Pepper nods and squares her shoulders as if donning a cloak of bravery. “How can I help?”

Because SHIELD has her acting like a regular recruit, Emory doesn’t have time to dwell on the brief but reassuring phone call she was able to have with her father. The clothes he sent along are almost too big for her, despite dating from her late teens. Rory had required them to have the same starvation diet, and that plus the time spent in the cave has left Emory dangerously slim. The intimidating physical trainer who works with her small group of seven has placed her on a regimen meant to ‘remind her muscles what it’s like to have fuel.’ The woman is a force of nature, and Emory can’t resist wanting to impress her.

She’d met with Fury once more, post-paperwork, and he’d explained that an altered version of her ordeal had been concocted for her SHIELD file. There’s no hiding her identity long-term, but the plan, the director explained, is to allude to a run-in with terrorists during non-military work in Afghanistan. That had led to this ‘twinned’ version of herself (the name she’s currently going by is ‘Emma Autumn’) witnessing something classified. According to the file, her subsequent confinement by SHIELD had been for her own protection until they could determine her loyalties.

This compromise thankfully explains why she lacks the law enforcement, military, or otherwise ‘spy adjacent’ background of her fellow recruits. Emory’s experience in fading into the background is useless here, though-- her red hair, ‘mysterious witness’ reputation, and relative ignorance of a lot of what they’re learning all cause her to stand out.

Emory’s saving grace is a rumor that whatever happened to her overseas has made this training a necessity, and she’s just making the best of it. It’s true, and once that starts circulating, everyone’s attitude toward her softens into a kind of protective sympathy. Everyone, that is, except for the physical trainer, Barton, and Romanoff.

Her schedule is gruelling, though, no matter how she’s treated by her instructors or classmates. On top of the full day for aspiring agents, she has a morning run with Barton where they go through some of the mission parameters and ostensibly build up her endurance. In the evening, Emory alternates between attending sparring sessions with Barton and Romanoff, and meeting with Natasha alone, off-site. These sessions take place at an empty field surrounded by forest.

Emory’s attempt to demand at-will contact with Tony as a means to demonstrate her abilities is met with stony resistance. Instead, Natasha works with her to explore various emotional responses in a low-level, methodical way, keeping track of each reaction without expanding on it. It’s… uncomfortable, the way the agent seems to dig down into Emory’s psyche to extract various targeted responses. Natasha never pushes her buttons too roughly or for too long, but it’s very clear that she could.

On the last day of that first week, she asks Emory to try to ramp up her power as high as she can manage, without direct contact with Tony. It’s really tempting to pretend that’s not possible, but after a week of sitting in camp chairs in an empty field with Black Widow, Emory knows the agent would detect her lie.

She starts by remembering the contrast between the harsh heat of the sun on the sack over her head, and the warmth of Tony’s squeeze of reassurance, all those months ago. That’s enough to get her hair shifting already, as the layers of power start to build up. Next, Emory draws on what it had felt like to have Tony pull her close and kiss her so roughly, to save her life. It had been frightening at the time, but now, she reframes the memory as pent-up desire and relief. He’d wanted her. For the man Tony Stark was in the hum-vee or the person he’d been while ‘dating’ Rory, to have apologized, to have cared about her the way he’d grown to-- that was hugely significant.

The grass around her is rippling from the waves of power she’s throwing off.

She feels electrified, but Emory holds on and lets herself think of the moment when Tony had called her over while he was lying on his back in the cave. Their mutual desire had sizzled with the slide of their hands together. It’s exhilarating to even think about.

“You’re starting to lift up!” Natasha calls over.

It’s true. Emory’s holding onto so many layers of power that she can’t feel anything but potential. “What do you want me to do with this?” she yells back.

“Something new!”

For a few seconds, Emory draws a blank, but then it occurs to her that she’s lifted herself, she’s pushed her power towards others as an attack, she’s used its force to pull something toward herself-- but she’s never tried to lift something else. Especially not something that’s anchored.

There’s a single tree that stands at the edge of their field, and Emory raises her hands to circle the layers of power she’d sheathed with into a spiral. She pictures herself throwing the horizontal cyclone she’s built like a javelin with a rope attached. Emory tries to make it a reality, arcing her narrow whorl across the open air and onto the tree. Having held back a percentage of her power, she braces herself with one foot behind her and tugs on the airspace around the tree, carefully angling the force of it so it will fly over and behind her. The sound of groaning, tearing wood is loud even from this distance, and finally, the tree rockets upward, dragging large chunks of earth and fractured roots along with it.

A sudden touch at her back almost derails the yanking action. It’s Natasha, helping her brace. Emory’s confidence surges when she realizes that she’d simply stopped the tree in midair for those few seconds as she assessed the threat.

“Holy shit!” Natasha’s voice says, behind her. “Finish it.”

Gleefully, Emory redoubles the yank. The tree sails over their heads, and they both turn to watch it.

“Shit, shit--” Emory swears. She pulls the small amount of power she’s got left and sends it slicing out to arrest and release the spin that’s twisting the massive tree and its flung-out dirt and leaves like a comet in the evening sky. It works, to her great relief, but the crash when the tree impacts the ground nearly knocks them down, despite it being 200 feet away at least.

Emory and Natasha stand still in shock for a long moment.

“So, we’re looking for a middle ground between that and our earlier work?” the SHIELD agent says.

“Yeah.”

Next chapter, Tony gets to NYC and Emory settles into an uneasy routine at SHIELD.

#tony stark x oc #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x original character #tony stark imagine #iron man fanfiction #iron man #iron man x oc #iron man x original character #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #tony stark #series: autonomy #ocfairygodmother #fyeahsuperverseocs

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archivyrep · 1 year

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"The Ghost and Molly McGee" employs archives stereotypes with basement archive [Part 2]

Continued from part 1

The first time we see the archives in the episode

It is dispiriting to see yet another series using the basement archives stereotype, especially one I enjoy a lot, as this show is a cute, wholesome series. I wish the writers of this episode, "Monumental Disaster," specifically Ricky Roxburgh and Paul Chang, could have tried to smash this stereotype, rather than playing into it. [1] As Sam Cross put in April 2020, popular culture depictions of archives and archives have not "changed as much as any of us would like" and added that it "depends entirely on the piece of media being consumed." This same episode includes implied records destruction, as the Brighton Historical Society is on fire. [2]

Reprinted from my Wading Through the Cultural Stacks WordPress blog. Originally published on Nov. 18, 2021.

When Tug goes inside the historical society to save a painting of himself, but not put out the fire, it makes me think that he might want the fire to continue as it could get rid of any evidence which disproves the town legend. On the other hand, he could just be an arrogant jerk who doesn't care about other people, rather than intentionally letting the fire burn.

Not only does the episode play into many of the archives tropes but the archives itself isn't even accessible to the public, hidden within a library. In some ways, this archives is like the special collections room in Hilda's Trolberg Library. The difference is that this archives appears to be abandoned and is not tended by anyone. It makes me think about the scrolls inside of a tree that the protagonists of Tangled, another Disney series, find, which happen to be organized, but no archivist is in sight.

As for unnamed archives in this episode, it is more of a repository, almost a warehouse of sorts, rather than something that people can use. That is the worst part of this episode. Sure, some archives are restricted and are only accessible through appointments, having this archives be hidden away, only able to be accessed with a cliche book pulling, sends the wrong message. I understand the urge for that in the episode and to make it mysterious, but I believe that there is undoubtedly a way to write an episode such as the one described into this without playing into archives stereotypes.

Notes

[1] Apart from them, with Chang also responsible for the teleplay, culpable here are the episode's directors, Johnny Castuciano and Sam King. I don't blame any of them for this, nor the storyboarder Steve Hirt, the animators, or the artists. Rather, it is, sadly, almost inevitable for the series to play into these stereotypes unless they try and counter them in their work. I hope more people could be like Daniel Errico of The Bravest Knight who said "I can assure you that the Hall of Records was abandoned for nefarious reasons outside of the archivists' control" and engaged with some of my criticisms. Castuciano, for his part, has been a storyboarder and animator on many shows, along with being a director on some others, according to IMDB, with none of those shows noted on this blog. The same is the case for King, who has worked on DuckTales, Big City Greens, and Clarence apart from this show, as noted by her IMDB page, and for Hirt, who has storyboarded for series such as Big Hero 6, Pig Goat Banana Cricket, and T.U.F.F. Puppy.

[2] Other series have featured archives on fire, like episodes of Rick and Morty and Allen Gregory, so this is a relatively common theme.

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historyhermann · 1 year

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"Carmen Sandiego": An Enthralling Animated Series [Part 5]

Continued from part 4

Carmen dancing along with the music to get inside a secure VILE facility, helped by her former partner, Gray, who makes sure energy fields are lowered so she isn't electrocuted

Carmen Sandiego is a unique series. It is different from the 1990s Where on Earth Is Carmen Sandiego? series, as Carmen is the head of VILE, stealing objects, buildings, and other treasures for the thrill of it. She even travels through time, so she can acquire priceless artifacts. Although Zack and Ivy are still siblings in this iteration of the franchise, they are closer in age.

This article was originally meant for The Geekiary. I submitted the article in mid-August 2022, on August 16, and it got sent back for edits, and even after a long conversation with one of the editors, including re-submitting the article a second time, I decided to publish it on my own (see original post for details) It was published on my History Hermann WordPress blog on Jan. 2, 2023.

Furthermore, on Carmen Sandiego, Carmen is often only saved thanks to her athletic abilities. However, when she gets seriously injured, she rests and recovers. This makes the series more realistic so that Carmen isn't portrayed as some superhuman character.

This series has as much impact as Carmen's previous portrayals. She will remain a "symbol of cultural rebellion", a Latine role model, with her keen fashion sense, while remaining glamorous, smart, and cool. After all, she was reportedly based on Brazilian singer Carmen Miranda. In this series, she is a thief with a conscious, stealing from thieves who are stealing for financial gain.

Carmen Sandiego features many voice actors I'm familiar with. For example, Olagundoye voices characters in Cleopatra in Space, Star Trek: Lower Decks, Kid Cosmic, and Steven Universe. Rodriguez voiced Princess Marisa in Elena of Avalor. Lewis voiced LaBarbara Conrad in Futurama. Montano voiced characters in The Casagrandes, Cleopatra in Space, and The Ghost and Molly McGee.

Other voice actors have lent their voices to The Legend of Korra, Craig of the Creek, Spirit Riding Free, We Bare Bears, and The Owl House. Unlike other shows, the series has a relatively diverse cast.

These talents were put to good use in the series. There are witty one-liners and comedic moments. Unfortunately, the fact that two final seasons are short, resulted in limitations. For instance, the third season was only five episodes long, cutting short possible capers.

Only two episodes in the show's final, and fourth, season featured evil/manipulated Carmen. An expanded season could have included more episodes where Carmen is ruthless and unforgiving. It would have allowed her to have "really bad morals" as one song goes.

Continued in part 6

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mitchipedia · 1 year

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We don’t need a new global town square to replace Twitter. We already have one: The Web.

The web is the world’s town square.I t’s been right there along along, and Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, etc., are all just layers on top of that web.

Nobody owns the web. If somebody like Twitter or Facebook puts a fence around their part of the web, that fence is just two feet tall. You can easily climb over it. If you’re not doing that, it’s because you’re choosing not to.

Mastodon is a great service. It’s not that hard to use. If you can figure out Facebook, you can figure out Mastodon. Learning to drive is harder and most of the people complaining about Mastodon being hard to use can already drive.

Mastodon is part of the much larger “fediverse,” which includes other services, which are less popular than Mastodon.1 Services join the fediverse by supporting a protocol called “ActivityPub.” It’s all very much like the way different email services interconnect with each other, and you can message from your Gmail account to another person’s Microsoft Outlook account without any difficulty.2 Already, we see WordPress blogs can be part of the fediverse, and a small blogging service called micro.blog, which I use, communicates with Mastodon using ActivityPub.

Right now, we’re not seeing a fediverse boom—we’re seeing a Mastodon boom. That needs to change. For the good of the web town square, people need to embrace that they can choose a variety of services that can all talk with one another.3 Mastodon is just one of those services.

@manuelmoreale makes similar points.

And Mastodon itself is pretty unpopular, compared with Twitter, which is in turn unpopular compared with Facebook or YouTube.) ↩︎

For an even better comparison, imagine if WhatsApp and Apple Messages could talk with each other. They’re similar but not identical—you’d lose some features but mostly you could communicate just fine. ↩︎

Kind of like the way your can read a Substack newsletter in email or on the web, and likewise you can get email updates on WordPress blogs. ↩︎

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gezebelgenie · 2 months

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Wordpress Draft #4

This past year has been an emotional tsunami, and I know I gained thicker skin from it but got damn. I talk about this all the time but growing up from a Seventh Day Adventist home where there were many rules and restrictions, I was kept from experiencing so many things, and the most basic human interactions that make you “street smart” as an adult. The God that was introduced in my home was a God I could never understand, but I went along with the church because it was either that or live in misery. My parents, being SDA and Caribbean gave me a mix of control and strictness that made my life a mix of confusion, frustration, feeling inhibited and very resentful because there were so many ideals that I had that were not aligned with the church and my parents’ beliefs and rule set. I’m still not too sure whether my brother feels the same way, now that I’m living away from them and on my own and he’s in college but still getting their financial support, I assume he’s kind of doing the same thing I did, going along with their beliefs and rules because it’s easier? Or maybe he does believe in the same God as them.

It’s so creepy and weird even typing this because this is the first time that I’m really acknowledging it to anyone other that my cousin Jessica who’s my best friend, and my boyfriend Steve who also is agnostic like I am.

But anyways to go back to what I was saying before, because of how strict my parents were, I missed out on so many experiences that probably would have been essential to the modeling of my maturity and my psyche. I reached age 25 and had never dated really (unless you count an impromptu coffee date after class or a blind date set up my Aunt that ended as soon as it happened). So when I finally was in the world and independent living on my own, I wasn’t going crazy per say because I’ve always been a pretty physically lazy and laid back person, but I definitely had many experiences that I couldn’t wait to try once I was out. I pierced my ears (many SDAs do not wear jewelry as a religious rule), I was stocking my cabinets with liquor instead of hiding bottles of hard apple ciders under my bed. At just the right and wrong time I fell upon a guy that was exactly what I wanted at the time and yet the worst choice I could make in my first romantic and sexual experiences. He was the biggest slap of reality as an adult that I could have gotten, and the switches in my naive mind quickly switched off one after the other after every experience that followed after that, with work, dealing with people who I realized will truly care about you and still stab you in the back, not because they hate you, but because of the construct within themselves. I learned that people are actually out get you sometimes, even if you truly didn’t do anything to warrant it. I learned that you have to take responsibility for your actions, cause ignoring the problem doesn’t make it go away, it makes it pile up and become a monster that you still end up having to deal with.

I met the most incredible guy right after becoming jaded to love, and I’m trying so hard not to let him suffer for it. I adore him, he is my best friend, he is the biggest supporter I’ve ever had aside from my own parents. He’s on his own journey just like I am, we’re both figuring out this adulting thing together and it’s hilarious and fun and I truly love him. I also understand that there is no permanence in life, and I’d like to explore whether it’s my jadedness from past experiences or the statistics that we see so many times of relationships not working out, and I try to balance that line between understanding when you are with your soulmate and when you are with the love of your life and when you should just simply stop stressing it and just ride the wave of beautiful human connections.

I’m trying to balance between being such a deeply emotional and sensitive person, and building thick skin to understand that nothing is black and white, there are no rules to how you should live your life and that experience and pain and vulnerability are all apart of living. i believe in living freely and genuinely, and that idea is so unpopular to so many people because nowadays life is built on a facade, on being fake. I also would love to explore the ideals of what’s fake and what’s real and understand. Today I meditated and it was the first time I can actually say it worked. I did the candle, crystals, dim lights, smoked bonged weed and everything. Everyday something within me has been stirring, and I feel like I have something....some juice, some drive to do something. Right now I’m writing. I used to love to write, I literally have a book full of written chapters of Michael Jackson fan fiction. And I’m not kidding, it was pretty good. And I wrote it for myself. That was the happiest I’d ever been. And then life and responsibility came and swooped me up and next thing I knew I didn’t have time to do any of the things that I used to love to do when I was idle and at home with no plans or friends, for that matter.

Anyways, i’m writing, and it feels good. So I’m going to keep doing it.

I’ve been playing with the idea of the blog for such a long time, but I was so lost mentally and I truly am not getting a true sense until NOW of who I am emotionally, mentally, spiritually...so therefore I feel like I’m finally in a place where I can express those things and have it be authentic. I don’t want to be basic, but I also don’t want to be fake, and bridging that line is fucking hard. I’ll just take it a day at a time, push myself mentally every day, try to learn, live, challenge myself and grow and blossom. After I’ve tried all that I’ll see where life takes me.

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sigappurojakal · 3 months

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THE KIND OF TEXT MESSAGES YOUR MAN CAN'T IGNOREIt is sad to note that so many men feel like they don’t get enough compliments from their women. Because the society has designed the perspective to be that women should receive more compliments than men. Prominent amongst the kinds of text messages men get are messages of reminder to send in the children's schools fee, rent, fuel for the night, making new hair, etc.Other times, it is text messages of errands upon errands. "Baby, please stop by at the market and buy me Maggi, salt, tomatoes, pepper, okra etc.Our married women are champions in this department. Beyond this, if you take the time to recognize something about your man, be it his physical self, emotional being, spiritual beliefs, or even his personality in general and resound it, it will make him fall in love with you deeply.I love the way Sunshine would look at me most times and send me text messages like, "Sweetheart, i love your smooth face. It's like that of a baby without pimples. I can't wait to walk my soft hands through it".You think I don't love such compliments?Come and see me smiling like Catfish na.Everyone compliments me for being handsome but she goes further to being more descriptive. That is powerful and distinctive.For instance, that your man has stunning blue eyes, chances are he’s heard it all his life so reading or hearing those same words from you isn’t going to send him over the moon.Though if you spiced it up and said something like, “I love staring into your sapphire eyes. They make me feel as deep as the ocean blue when I’m standing next to you", well those descriptive words are a huge improvement.You know your man, so try to choose something about him that he isn’t used to hearing. For example, let’s say he has a fiery passion for social justice, you could say something like, “You carry yourself with such conviction. Just being around makes me a better person.” Or, if you want to stay physical then blast off a “You are so breathtakingly handsome, and that’s the least interesting thing about you. ” Or, “I love the dip in your hip. Running my fingers along it gets me hot and bothered.” (biko, you must be married to type something like this to your man)😆.Truthfully, I cannot stress enough that detail is key here, because while it’s one thing to tell a man he’s good looking, telling him specifically what makes him so attractive will stroke his ego and get his heart racing. And remember, guys like to feel like the warrior in a relationship, so keep his manhood in mind when sending these messages. Make it somewhat romantic....inugo? 😁The last thing you want to do is send him something that’s going to make him feel emasculated.

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#THE KIND OF TEXT MESSAGES YOUR MAN CAN&039;T IGNORE

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ratliffparks86 · 4 months

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10 Facebook Marketing Tips You Cant Afford To Overlook For Your Online Course Business In 2020

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