Marie Antoinette

Marie Antoinette

so it's three in the morning so excuse my ramblings but:

Marie Antoinette, first of all, did NOT say "let them eat cake" the girl was literally fed on a silver spoon, what did you expect? There's no actual evidence supporting this.

She was still a child when she was married off to Louis XVI! It was a political alliance, you can't possibly expect a 14 y/o to rule a whole nation.

Her world was Austria. She was born and raised there. France was an entirely new world for her. She knew nothing of the customs, the traditions. What could she do?

It's said that her last words were to her executioner for apologizing for stepping on his shoes. Does that really strike you as something someone so apparently heartless would say, even if she were trying to save herself? No. I didn't think so.

It's all easy to say from here but my point is that maybe we shouldn't treat her a some plain narcissistic queen—I believe she, like everyone, had her own issues and a complicated personality.

She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice. And she knew that. She wore dark red lipstick the colour of blood, and not just any blood, but period blood. She wore smokey eyes and didn’t bother hiding the dark circles from insomniac nights and had a perfectly winged eyeliner that she had read in sixth grade made you look like a cat and she loved cats though she was, as she begrudgingly admitted to her animal lover friends, afraid to touch them. Her nose was radically different from what the rest of her family had and someone said it made her look like a Greek sculpture. She refuses to wear high heels unless it is a wedding and she loves standing taller than the people who used to look down on her. She practically lives in her well-worn sneakers that she bought with the money from her first salary because the heels prescribed by the boss at work were ergonomically stupid and anyway, she would like to have her spine and muscles intact in old age. She had a small little birthmark right beneath the outer of her left eye, on her high cheekbones that her uncle had told her resembled her country. She has two very slightly crooked front teeth, hardly visible unless you are asked to look at them because though she intended to, she never could bring herself to take the initiative and wear braces because it hurts and she hated things that brought her pain. She always carries a picture of her parents in her purse and a bottle of perfume. She goes to the movies without buying popcorn because she hadn’t been to the theatre for five years once and the first time after, she forgot to buy them and anyway, it’s difficult to hear with the constant chewing. She writes little letters and half-finished stories, pores over ancient texts and is a treasure trove of little facts. She knows all the Greek stories, despises Zeus and the gods and adores mythology, be it Celtic, Indian, Chinese, Norse or Japanese but loves folklores the best. She knows suspiciously too much about Unit 731, Operation Nightingale, the Nazca lines, poison, the history of chocolate, the world wars and Europe after the French Revolution for a medical student but who cares, she’s fascinating. She appears cold but those who have known her for years would tell you that she’s an empath and her fault is caring too much. She speaks bits and pieces of several languages, all influenced by the books and series she’d seen and loved. You could ask her what ‘What’s for dinner?’ was in Thai but she wouldn’t be able to tell you the classes of tones in it. She is a fashionista and abides by the teachings of her father who taught her what fashion really is and made her see how even a small wardrobe is enough to last you years because he never seemed to buy himself something unless his existing clothes were too worn and that was rare because he took extremely good care of his belongings, good enough to still be able to use the same sunglasses he wore during his college days. She is a wonderful cook but rarely cooks her native dishes because she’s a picky eater who thrives on pasta and Chinese and the fish curries her mother makes are still the best things that graced her mouth. She is a mosaic of information and experience. She is everything and nothing, all at once. She is human, and perfection is her flaw. She is art.

The story behind attributing colours to genders

Originally, the colour pink was masculine. Yes, shocked, aren't you? During the 18th century, European armies, including the British, used red as the primary color for their uniforms. Red was chosen because it was a strong, distinctive color that could be easily spotted on the battlefield. These red tunics were often made from a type of dye that wasn't very colorfast, meaning they would fade over time and with repeated washings. As a result, after numerous washings and exposure to the elements, the red dye in these soldier tunics would often fade to a lighter shade, including pink. These faded red uniforms were still worn by soldiers, and it became a symbol of their toughness and experience in battle. This association with strength and masculinity contributed to the idea that pink was a color of masculinity.

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the concept of gendered colors was not as firmly established as it is today. In fact, some fashion experts during this time period suggested that pink was a more suitable color for boys, as it was seen as a stronger and more vibrant shade, while blue was considered a softer and more delicate color and therefore more appropriate for girls.

Earlier, newborns were clothed in white, clothes often worn before by other babies as money was short. Eventually, when people stopped buying these clothes, manufacturers turned to advertising and started attributing these colours to genders because people would have to buy mew clothes every time a baby was born because what are the chances that a girl would be born after another girl? Pretty low.

The shift in perception began in the mid-20th century, and by the 1940s, advertising and marketing played a significant role in shaping the color associations we know today. Advertisers and manufacturers started promoting pink as a symbol of femininity, often using it in products and clothing for girls. This marketing strategy eventually solidified the modern perception of pink as a feminine color and blue as a masculine one.

The Shade Of Old Trees by Kryal In which WWX was ice'd for hundreds of years and wakes up in modern times.

i binge read this my whole day off and needless to say the worldbuilding got me on a chokehold 😩💖

New Hualian fic!

Xie Lian has been offering prayers for years to the Ghost King Hua Cheng in the hopes that Wuming (who he hopes survived) is being cared for in the Ghost City. Hua Cheng just finds out that his dianxia had been praying to him for centuries. I hope you like it! do tell me what you thought of it.

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.