#many ways to be a woman
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corkinavoid · 25 days ago
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DPxDC Alt Rock to the Rescue
[Inspired by this art]
"...Alright, I might have an idea," John Constantine, who was seemingly busy texting someone for the past ten - or twenty, no one really counted - minutes, puts his phone away and snaps his head up.
The room falls silent. Superman blinks in surprise, Diana frowns slightly, and Batman's mouth is pressed into a thin, stubborn line. Flash recovers first.
"You have an idea?" He huffs a short, disbelieving laugh, "No offense, but I'm not sure a magic trick can help us against, you know, an alien fleet." He gestures to one of the screens on the wall, where said fleet is approaching Earth on live.
The rest of the Leaguers present don't exactly agree with him, at least not verbally, but the mood in the room shifts from tense, anxious alarm to an almost palpable annoyance. To be honest, no one was even sure why or how John Constantine of all people ended up in the meeting. It's not like JLD could actually help with an ongoing, massive invasion that was about to happen in less than three- Correction, less than two and a half hours. Besides, it's John Constantine. The man that never shows up unless outright bullied into submission.
The magician winces briefly and starts rummaging through his pockets under the weight of everyone's attention.
"I said I might," he amends gruffly, getting a cigarette out of one of his pockets and sticking it in his mouth but not lighting it. Seems like it wasn't what he was looking for, though, because after that, the man keeps going through the various places on his coat, patting himself down. "I know someone who can deal with it. Granted, I already owe him a great deal, but he won't say no," he pauses and grimaces, "At least I hope he won't."
"I do not think it would be wise to call upon gods in our situation," Diana tries carefully, but John pays her little mind.
"Or demons," Green Arrow adds, crossing his arms on his chest, "I'm not selling my soul to get rid of some rocket ships or whatever they are."
Now, that makes the magician bark a laugh. Or, maybe it's the piece of lime green paper - a sticky note, actually - that he finally finds in the depths of his pockets.
"Oh, your soul's gonna stay where it is."
"Constantine-" Batman starts, but John cuts him off instantly.
"Mine will stay wherever it is as well," he reassures the man, "It's not that kind of entity." And with that, he promptly sets the green note on fire - green fire - and uses it as a lighter for his cigarette.
The next moment after the note is reduced to ash, there's a shift in the air in front of him, and, before any of the heroes have a split second to react, there are two people floating in the middle of the room, backs pressed to each other.
Two teenagers, to be exact. A girl and a boy, both of them so pale that their skin looks gray, and both dressed in grunge, like they just came from a rock concert. Yet, that's where the 'normal' parts of their looks end - the boy's hair is so white it looks blinding, and moves in the air slowly, undeterred by gravity, and the girl's hair is neon blue, her ponytail flickering up like a flaming torch.
The boy nearly topples over as the girl leans her back on him harder and kicks her feet up slightly. The movement is awkward, like both of them were taken by surprise by the sudden relocation, and maybe the guess about the rock concert was not so far from reality; there are drumsticks in the boy's hands, and the girl is holding an electric guitar in her hands.
"The fuck?.." The boy asks no one in particular, as the girl makes an annoyed groan and straightens up, still floating in the air. Her guitar makes an aborted sound. Meanwhile, the boy's eyes land on Constantine, and his whole face scrunches in disgust, "John, for the love of Ancients, I was in the middle of something."
The girl takes a look around while her friend is busy expressing his annoyance and elbows him in the side, "Oi, look, it's the whole Comic Con in the flesh here."
Green Arrow sputters. Flash makes a wordless but very offended sound. The floating boy looks around, taking stock of faces in the room, and the disgust on his face morphs into exasperation.
He turns back to Constantine, "Really? I thought I told you I want no part in your furry parade."
"Alien invasion," the magician decidedly doesn't address any of that, instead pointing his finger to the screen behind him. "Thought you ought to know," he adds, a bit of sarcasm bleeding into his tone.
"Ooh, is it my turn to be your world saving buddy, Phantom?" The girl perks up, turning around and draping herself over the boy's shoulders with a giddy laugh. Her guitar shifts to hang in the air on her side all by itself.
The boy - Phantom - rolls his eyes. Bright green, glowing eyes that definitely don't belong to a human being.
"If I had a nickel every time I had to save the world, I'd probably be able to buy myself my own guitar," he grumbles and looks back to Constantine. "Do I, like, have to? Right now? You know, I don't get paid for this bullshit, and the studio we rented for rehearsal has an hourly rate, so if we can postpone this for about an hour and a half, that'd be real nice."
"The fleet is only two hours away from Earth," Batman supplies suddenly, and, when both floating kids turn to look at him, adds, "I can pay for your next rehearsal. Or a few of them." Evidently, Phantom's comment about nickels struck a nerve. Or, maybe, the man just likes throwing money at any teenager he encounters. Who knows.
The boy blinks, taken aback by the proposition. But the girl grins, sharp and wicked, and shoves her drummer - if the drumsticks are to tell - in the side again.
"Hey, free studio. Better than the last time."
That snaps Phantom out of his stupor, and he groans, "Don't remind me." With a weary sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in the air, almost like reclining on it. "Okay, fine, sure. Do you want them, like, away from Earth- um, this is Earth, right?" He turns to Superman, surprisingly, looking for confirmation, and the man nods, thrown off guard. The boy nods back and continues, "Or you want them blasted into oblivion, or what?"
"Whatever suits your mood, kid," John waves his hand at the screen as if making a welcoming gesture, "But all the aliens gotta go."
Unexpectedly, that makes the girl's grin even wider, and she reaches for her guitar, floating around Phantom and looking him in the face. The look she gives him speaks of mischief, and the boy seems to understand what she's implying before she as much as opens her mouth.
"Ember, no," he pounts a drumstick at her.
"Ember, yes," she wiggles her eyebrows, "Come on, your wail is boring as fuck as it is, why not spice it up?"
"I'm not wailing," Phantom scrunches his nose, "My throat will hurt for weeks."
Ember runs her fingers over the strings of her guitar, and it makes a comparatively quiet, vibrating sound. A few cords shoot out of the bottom of her instrument, like ones used to plug an electric guitar to an amp. She raises her eyebrows, still looking at Phantom, a silent conversation between them.
Then, the boy huffs and rolls his eyes, twirling a drumstick in his fingers.
"Fine."
The cords fly at him like snakes, aiming at his neck. None of the Leaguers watching the encounter get to say even a word as the metal pins insert themselves into the boy's neck, acting like some twisted kind of collar. Phantom doesn't even flinch.
Ember's guitar, on the other hand, reacts to the connection quite violently: it makes a high-pitched sound all on its own and then changes color from black and blue to white and green, with lightning bolts instead of flames for design. The girl's ponytail flares up higher as she softly murmurs in delight.
Then, she turns to the people around them and smirks, "Which way is the evil alien fleet?"
Flash wordlessly points his finger to the right and up. The girl nods in satisfaction, turning in the air so her guitar is facing that way.
"You might want to cover your ears," Phantom advises, a sly smile on his face and a glimmer of anticipation to his eyes. John Constantine follows that direction immediately, and, taking his move as the best course of action, the other heroes follow as well. Except Batman, who only narrows his eyes and looks at both teens in the air apprehensively. Phantom shrugs, "Or don't, I don't hold any responsibility for your shattered eardrums."
"Pick up where we left off, then," Ember tells him, and the boy blinks:
"Wait, I thought you'd just-"
[For some wholesome experience, put your headphones in and listen to 'KULT' by Jisaiah, grandson, and Steve Aoki]
But the girl has already started a tune, nodding her head to the rhythm of it and slowly picking up the pace. Phantom huffs, but doesn't protest any further, floating up as much as the cords allow him and spinning a drumstick in his hand.
"Maybe I should join a cult
At least they'll tell me it's not my fault
That the world's a fucking circus
That my life feels fucking worthless," he spits the words out with a sneer, slowly rotating in the air until he is hanging upside down. His eyes are closed, and his voice becomes more and more staticky with every new sound. The volume of Ember's guitar gets up, higher and higher, until the walls and the floor of the room around them start to vibrate.
Then, Ember's voice joins Phantom's, and the boy brings his drumsticks down on thin air, mimicking the moves. Only, even with the actual drums not there, the air around him ripples like they are, and they all can hear the beat.
"Maybe I should join a cult
At least they'll tell me it's not my fault
When it all comes crashing down
We'll see who's laughing," both kids pause, just for a beat, and Ember uses that split second to spin the volume knob to the max before strumming her guitar in one wide, sharp move.
"NOW!"
The sound wave is not only palpable, it's visible. A wave of toxic green ripples through the air, knocking everyone present - sans the two kids in the air - to the ground, and goes beyond. The screens on the walls flicker and turn off, sending sparks in the air, and the comms give off loud, screeching noises, and-
The following silence feels almost deafening.
Batman, unsurprisingly, is the first one to stand back on his feet and see a few of the screens come back online.
Just in time to see that same green wave of... sound? energy? power?.. decimate the entire fleet like a wet cloth over a chalkboard. One moment, the spaceships were there, and the next they are gone, wiped out of existence.
Ember laughs, leaning back and almost doing a backflip in the air.
"That was nice, dipshit!" She shoves Phantom in the shoulder, and the boy snorts, plucking the cords out of his skin and grinning.
"Yeah," he agrees with a smile, not even looking at the screens around, "Maybe we should try rehearsing in space next time. Sing to the stars and all that crap."
"Sing to the stars?" Ember raises her eyebrows mockingly as the rest of the heroes scramble to their feet, bemoaning their ringing ears. "Na-ah," she clicks her tongue and turns to Batman, "You still up for paying for our studio?"
The man just grunts in a semblance of affirmation.
"Sweet," the girl grins and offers Phantom a hand for a high five, which he returns instantly. "Cheers to the world being saved once again!"
The boy just rolls his eyes and turns to Constantine, "Next time, be a dear and text me before summoning, or I'm going to sell your soul to Morpheus, and who knows what he'll do with you."
John Constantine grimaces. "I did," he offers grudgingly.
But both unearthly teenagers are already gone without a trace.
[Edit: I want everyone to know there's ART now!!!]
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littlepawz · 2 years ago
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“When she applied to run in the Boston Marathon in 1966 they rejected her saying: “Women are not physiologically able to run a marathon, and we can’t take the liability.” Then exactly 50 years ago today, on the day of the marathon, Bobbi Gibb hid in the bushes and waited for the race to begin. When about half of the runners had gone past she jumped in. She wore her brother’s Bermuda shorts, a pair of boy’s sneakers, a bathing suit, and a sweatshirt. As she took off into the swarm of runners, Gibb started to feel overheated, but she didn’t remove her hoodie. “I knew if they saw me, they were going to try to stop me,” she said. “I even thought I might be arrested.” It didn’t take long for male runners in Gibb’s vicinity to realize that she was not another man. Gibb expected them to shoulder her off the road, or call out to the police. Instead, the other runners told her that if anyone tried to interfere with her race, they would put a stop to it. Finally feeling secure and assured, Gibb took off her sweatshirt. As soon as it became clear that there was a woman running in the marathon, the crowd erupted—not with anger or righteousness, but with pure joy, she recalled. Men cheered. Women cried. By the time she reached Wellesley College, the news of her run had spread, and the female students were waiting for her, jumping and screaming. The governor of Massachusetts met her at the finish line and shook her hand. The first woman to ever run the marathon had finished in the top third.”
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tunemyart · 3 months ago
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But regarding the way Rio revealed herself to Lilia
She didn't choose just any old guise, she chose tarot imagery. She chose something specific to Lilia and Lilia's own language as a witch. She didn't appear as Death - Rio is always Death. She appeared as the Death card. Something so soul-deep for Lilia that the recognition would be instantaneous and unquestionable.
I don't think this is Rio's usual garb. I think she has a lot of control over how she chooses to present, and I think most of the time she probably looks like Aubrey Plaza. She's just Rio. She's a woman. She's the oldest, original green witch. That just also happens to mean that she's Death.
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novelarrts · 3 months ago
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this was better in my head
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+ some more doodles i made after finishing the game :[
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jmr-observingfromafar · 2 months ago
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ngl Matangi in Moana 2 was kinda gay. like just a little gay. i mean my girl is a "crazy cat bat lady", calls Moana "babe" twice in her song (the way i audibly gasped in the theater when i heard it lol), and is like sooooo queer coded i love it sm. she just gives off the vibes of sapphic-coded older woman who's played as suave and confident and makes the mc just go "haguphuk" and we all know if this was old disney they would've leaned so hard into that. but i could not have been the only one to keep catching Matangi poking her buttons, the hand on her chin in one scene, just being a total fucking vibe like please i know what you are. that whole scene felt real gay and don't think im leaving Moana out of this one. she is gay, i don't make the rules. i'm stickin with this hc no one can stop me from making Matangi the cool lesbian aunt and NO ONE will stop me from turning Moana gay (Auli'i Cravalho knows what she's doing)
ok im gonna be so real for a second i was simping HARD over Moana's character design in this movie.... like even more than baby me was dying during the first one... like this girl is just- oh my gosh. baby-gay me from 8 years ago would have actually DIED if she'd seen this Moana. it's almost embarrassing how down bad i was during that movie like she's so fucking pretty i wasn't ready for her design. like girls are just too much sometimes, i cant cope .
also side tangent but the lazy ass rewrite of Moana 2 from its planned version as a Disney+ series into a freaking MOVIE was just- so painfully obvious. like they didn't even try reworking it. the structure of the whole movie is painfully episodic and it was just so blatantly shoved into movie format without any care for the integrity of basic movie versus tv structure, so the char dev and pacing was just so rough. like what were the writers even thinkingggg. pretty disappointing but that's ok i have the fandom to make me feel better (moana fan art save me....)
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medicalunprofessional · 10 months ago
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wunderbar !
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annieisyourfavourite · 2 months ago
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so sorry but that post about "the reason boys and men are being radicalized is bc girls are mean to them" is driving me up the fucking wall. maybe i really am just on a different internet than the rest of you but. this sentiment of "women are being bitches who don't care about men and that's why there's Problems now" is like. such an alpha male podcast classic take. like it's literally "not all men". it doesn't magically become better bc u say stuff with liberal terminology. jesus christ
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wishesofeternity · 6 months ago
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The thing about HotD is that it while it absolutely minimizes the agency and ambition of both Rhaenyra and Alicent, this is specifically used to glorify Rhaenyra and frame her as righteous while condemning Alicent and framing her lacking. That's the key difference in both their textual portrayals that has directly led to 90% of the fandom hailing Rhaenyra as the second coming of Christ while spewing the most hateful vitriol at Alicent just for existing. But y'all are not prepared for that conversation.
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blamemma · 4 months ago
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daniel ricciardo speaks on how australia feels like home, even though he spends much of the year away.
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pant--eater · 5 months ago
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I AM SOOO GAY FOR TOTTY I'M IN SHAMBLES GRAGRAGHRJDHJF
feat. toxic yuri with Mrs Tweedy
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bruciemilf · 2 years ago
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One of my biggest pet peeves is the justice league being labelled as " The Avengers of DC" and its like. No? The avengers are law enforcement. The Justice League are volunteers
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nathaniacolver · 22 days ago
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i feel like tumblr NEEDS to know about Dr. Ally Louks, and the term "Olfactory Ethics"
(long post incoming)
storytime/timeline:
on november 27, 2024, an excited English Literature PhD recipient posted a picture of herself with her thesis, titled:
"Olfactory Ethics: The Politics of Smell in Modern and Contemporary Prose"
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as you can see (on the bottom row, above), the tweet has been viewed over 119 MILLION times, and has received over 250k likes. unfortunately, within days (most of the replies dating december 1st), she had garnered what seems like every possible insecure man with a twitter account to post their vitriol and rage concerning the fact that a woman is clearly more well-researched than them. regardless, she tanked it ALL with kindness and with a smile:
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AND I MEAN VITRIOL (queen of making boundaries clear):
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(inserting reading break for the timeline's space's sake):
here's her abstract:
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and in case the abstract wasn't clear, she has since (date: december 16th) taken the time to re-summarize her thesis for the layman (yes that is a link! click it! 3min read!)
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she has repeatedly shown just the perfect amount of kindness and understanding for those who are simply Not Comprehending (mostly december 1st):
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(the chatGPT hate in the next one is my favorite:)
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has upheld an incredibly high moral standard of how she interacts with the situation (december 2nd):
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ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS: regardless of this crap, she made it clear that as a professor, her FIRST priority at the end of the semester would be taking care of them (december 3rd)
(CAN SHE GET MORE BASEDDDDDDDDDD)
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she stays both 1) educating the masses, and 2) engaging with pop culture as much as a normal person would (december 9th-17th):
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she also supports a free palestine (WHO IS SURPRISED. NOT ME.) ((december 15th))
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here's the BEST FREAKING THING ABOUT THIS. since this all has happened, RANDOM TWITTER USERS, UNKNOWINGLY, have REPEATEDLY proven her thesis to be true,
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again,
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and again,
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AND AGAIN.
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EVEN CARDI B DO YOU HEAR MEEEEEEEE
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COMBATING MISOGYNOIR WITH HER OWN BARE HANDSSSSS
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oh she knows she's mother
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here's some more she never saw/commented on (INCLUDING SOME FROM TODAY. IT IS STILL GOING ON. EVERY SINGLE DAY LIKE CLOCKWORK SOMEONE POSTS SOMETHING THAT PROVES HER POINTS ABOUT OLFACTORY ETHICS):
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THE WICKED MOVIE REFERENCE HELLO
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apparently, OTHER academics are mad at her for being so famous and influential, but she stays unbothered (december 16th, and TODAY, december 19th):
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and she's partially getting her post-doc on how people's sense of smell has been altered (december 1st):
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and the best part is!
all of these screenshots i've collected are only a SAMPLE, illustrating dr. louks' indomitably kind and ethical character.
anyway. i want ALL of y'all to start saying, out loud, "olfactory ethics", or even better, "dr. louks was RIGHT" (something something women's names are erased something) every time you see something that plays into her thesis. never let her influence die. THINK THROUGH what you're REALLY saying when you comment on the smell of something, or how your perception has been shaped by society. USE THIS PHOTO IF YOU HAVE TO:
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follow her on twitter (@DrAllyLouks) or bluesky (idk her handle, if someone tells me i'll edit it in)
AND SAY HER NAME!! DR. ALLY LOUKS
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formerprincewille · 7 months ago
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Something that really sets Wille and Simon apart from other queer ships is that when we say their love language is physical touch, IT REALLY IS PHYSICAL TOUCH. And I’m not speaking of just sex. Over the course of the show, the amount of touching between them is astronomical. And that’s really something rarely seen in queer media. There may be moments here or there, but often times there’s a lack of physical contact unless it’s for “the plot”. Wille and Simon feel like a real couple in the way they’re always physically reaching out for each other.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year ago
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Results from the ‘Who is the tallest MDZS Character poll! Thank you all for voting!
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discard-celestia · 5 months ago
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poster of lestat de lioncourt as liane de pougy:
based on a poster (under the cut) of french courtesan Liane de Pougy who was openly bisexual, left her husband armand, escaped to paris where she tried acting, had a long-term relationship with a woman whom she wrote a book about after said woman left her, had a long list of affairs, described herself as a terrible mother who saw her child as a doll to dress up, was regarded as one the most beautiful women in Paris, and ultimately became a princess. fascinating woman, really
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Poster for Liane de Pougy at the Folies Bergères, Paul Berthon (c. 1890s).
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copperbadge · 7 months ago
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....hello Dolly.
[ID: a photo from the Country Music Hall of Fame, featuring an outfit worn by Dolly Parton; it is a dress with pink sleeves and a maroon body. Having been fitted to Dolly, the proportions of the dress's chest are ample, with a very narrow waist.]
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