#with those rose-colored glasses

[teatimeatwinterpalace]

Like it or not, the one who saved and modernized the monarchy was King George V, not king Edward VII, and this is an undisputed fact that all historians would agree with. After all, It was during the reign of King George V that 13 European Monarchies crumbled to the ground while the british monarchy survived. And it survived because of George V, because of his leadership, his modern statesmanship, his will to embrace and encourage changes, his popularity and the respect that his nation had for him, while he led his country to victory during WW1. He was the FIRST Monarch that brought monarchy close to people, hence why he was nicknamed the People's Monarch or the Citizen Monarch. George reigned during the most difficult times in the history of monarchy and of mankind, but he managed to save his monarchy and to modernize it, setting the path for a Constitutional Modern Monarch*. Your bias cannot change it, because facts dont give a damn about your opinions. A pity that you cannot uplift Edward VII without bringing George down. George wasnt dull, he was quite the character. He was genuine, funny, reproachable, a lover of books and cinema, and most importantly he was a SERIOUS LEADER, who acted exactly as a modern head of state is suppsed to act. Oh and he was a FAITHFUL Husband, he was devoted to his wife and loyal to her throughout their entire marriage. Something that can never be said of Edward VII who was unfaithful and over-indulgent in everything ( Im sure his mistresses would have preferred Handsome George though). If being faithful and family-oriented makes a man dull, than give me dull everyday. Queen Alexandra would've been happy to have married a man like George who never embarrassed and humiliated his wife

Oh my, where does this come from? lmao. Tbh, I deserve this kind of message when it's about Wilhelm. I'm totally biased regarding this rascally young fop (Alexander III said it first!). Badmouthing him is one of my favourite pastime. But George, come on! I never been too harsh with him? EXCEPT, perhaps, when it comes down to the Romanovs, but what can I say? When you don't have a backbone, you really don't…

Yet, I'm a tad puzzled by your message because we are talking about George V right? The one who in April 1905 hadn't seen his children for three months. The one who used to shout at his second son "Get it out" when the poor soul was suffering from stammer. The one who in 1917, while on a stroll in the grounds of Sandringham complained to Nora Wigram that his children always avoided him. Nora retelling this story in one of her letters to her parents said how Mary, David and Bertie became "quite cheerful & entirely flippant, writing their names in the snow" when George and Mary had gone home on said stroll. However, do you know who was ACTUALLY a good father? his cousin *whispering* Nicky.

Faithful yes but let me remind you that their marriage was far from smooth sailing. They lived seperately for months on end. You also must have forgotten the countless letters from George trying to apologise for shutting down, being rude or cold towards May. + May's letters complaining on how he would shut her out. The man was unable to articulate his feelings which led to endless misunderstanding. May who once wrote to George while in Paris : "I quite understand about yr not wishing to come to Paris & am not angry, I only thought it wd be nice change as I find life in general very dull- unless one has a change sometimes." She had wanted him to join her but had received a rebuff instead. May who wrote to his brother in 1900 while she was stuck in the gloomy York Cottage: "It is so dull here & I feel very low & depressed tho' Im pretty well on the whole" (alright she was pregnant at that time, but guess where George was?… out shooting birds).

Led his country to victory during WW1? Hmmm, you really mean George V who was described in 1918 by the Viscount Esher in those terms: "he seems virtually a recluse, steadily devoting himself to good purposes and little works of a good kind, but with not conspicuousness, no assertiveness of the King's position." / "making himself a nonentity" ? While May wrote on 19 november 1916 to her son David about the hospital visits: "They are "assomant" (tiresome) & I dislike them more than words can describe!" and then proceeded to explain how much she enjoyed her shopping trips at Goode's.

I'm teasing because OF COURSE I think George V was a good ruler and perhaps he was the kind of ruler the country needed at that time. He was a great arbitrator and was able to adapt and change despite having conservative views and being very much uneducated. How he dealt with the Irish question is a stellar example! He was an ordinary man who disliked society and suffered from bouts of depression. There is a sentence that struck me in Ridley's book which in my opinion sums up George : "He was a man of disconnected feelings".

I could write PAGES about Bertie's shortcomings and how his shenanigans damaged the monarchy. Yet he was a gifted ruler, very much in tune with his time.

So I guess anon, it comes down to... preference. If you are more into shooting birds and collecting stamps, you do you! I, on the contrary, have a soft spot for cosmopolitan kings with a string of scandals.

Now if you'd excuse me, I'm off painting the town red with Bertie!

[manaquartz]

GODDAMN I'VE BEEN LOOKING AT THIS ALL DAY (source: https://twitter.com/bkomei/status/1694844535300375028 it's part of bkomei's exo anniversary series)

[anxiousgayseeksvalidation]

it’s been interesting to me to see all the “omg it’s like I’m back in 2014 again!” posts; because I thought the whole point of all this, of everything that’s happened in the last 4-5 years, is that this new era isn’t going to be anything like 2014? I’m just as nostalgic as anyone else for that emo cat whiskers era, but I also need to acknowledge and face the reality that Dan and Phil had a very different experience. Certain parts of the Phandom gave them absolute hell, and Dan especially was not especially happy for a lot of that era. So, no, this new era is nothing like being back in 2014–and that’s a GOOD thing!

[bigdvmnhero]

ok i love future leo and mikey being wisened, mature role models of the resistance but i'm haunted. haunted. by those few years the story left out

what were they like, as a pair???? easily, i hc their recklessness feeding off on each other, them being unhinged and highkey intimidating to anyone who didn't know them Before bc that's..... what grief does to people...... raph dies first and they're like, "nothing like this is ever happening again." but of course it does, a few years later with DONNIE and they just. kind of stop functioning. it's 30-something leo coming back to their hideout drenched in kraang gore. it's donnie dying a day before mikey's 29nd birthday and that's when he unlocks a new level of his mystic power, the day he takes out a whole kraang fleet. how casey's first clear memory of uncle mikey is this brittle, angry, insubordinate thing that leo keeps trying (and failing) to keep in line. remember how defiant mikey was when leo was "lost" to them? it's that but years of it. years of trial and error, mikey disappearing and reappearing, and they're never gonna get them back, are they? not this time

im insane i wonder abt this so often even more than i wonder about how raph and donnie went out. i want the corruption era so bad like you can't tell me mikey and leo didn't absolutely spend a few LEGENDARY years BATSHIT CRAZY only to blank out when people bring up those years again; there is one brain cell in this family and raph and donnie took it with them

EDIT: ended up writing the fic :)

[sargeantgp]

Realistically could Logan go to indy?

with prema, yes. besides that probably not unless he coughs up some $$

[detransraichu]

broooo not my ex making posts abt how hard it is to come to terms with being conventionally attractive while having low self-esteem issues and how wild it is to get compliments randomly on their appearance when they go out and how they're worried that their new transmasc boytoy is only into them bc they're hot -_- i'm tired... meanwhile i'm just seen as a gremlin now that i'm not hyperfem... they truly have the biggest issues in the world lol

also they were like "omg turns out i'm not ace i just needed a bf lol" and i'm like yeah. i know. you've been lusting after male characters for years. you were horny as fuck just not for me bc i didn't transition. you only made moves on me when you were bored, lonely or drunk. i always asked if that was the case and you were like no baby it's just your insecurities i don't need you to transition uwu. for 5 years. my trust issues are thru the roof now yayyyyy /dies

[camptw1nk]

i miss. the vibes of the rpc a few years back

[dancedance-resolution]

i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?

---

Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.

“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”

At that moment, Kara saw the painting.

She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.

Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.

Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.

It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”

Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.

“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.

“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”

Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.

“What’s the title?”

The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

---

Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.

Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.

At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.

She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.

The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.

The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.

With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.

---

The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.

But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.

Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.

---

The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.

She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.

The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.

A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.

Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.

They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.

While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.

Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”

The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.

“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.

Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”

“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.

Kara watched her every step.

Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.

---

There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.

After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.

---

Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.

Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.

---

Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.

[gretahayes]

another thing is that like. a lot of people that insist bruce isn’t an abusive father focus on what it means for bruce and how it doesn’t make sense for him and his character, but. what about his children? what about the victims of his abuse who were shaped by said abuse? what about them? are they less important? not worth putting on a realistic lens for? what about what it means for their characters? why are you prioritizing the character of the abuser over what it means for his victims?

[thewingedwolf]

i really think blue thinks jared pulled a janey s6 and dumped kenzo in a dr segment or something bc last night they were talking about her and jared goes “would you be upset if i wished her happy birthday” and she was like “i would feel awful for her bc you’re in here fooling around with me, seems kinda rude” like she called it “unnecessary” which really makes me think that blue is just deluding herself about this. she also sounded (imo) kinda bummed when he said he saw it “differently” aka it’s fine that he’s messing with blue while shouting out kenzo.

i know we’ve all kinda dragged her for fooling around with jared when she knows he’s in a relationship, but i do kinda feel for her emotionally bc i think BLUE thinks that even if this doesn’t last long, they have genuine feelings for each other & it’s something they want to explore for real & he’s not gonna throw away a years long relationship on a whim. which is clearly the wrong read lmao.

[shmaroace]

aros and aces just do it better. idk how to describe it but we do

[straydogged]

shout out to it being around the first anniversary of one of the biggest mistakes of my life

[luckycharming]

Getting older is realizing that those same people you prioritize highly and would move the moon for if they asked, pluck out the very stars to gift them, don't prioritize you. Or, they DO, but instead of being their number one or top 3, you're not even in their top ten lmao. That's probably why my reflexive response is one of four things: cut you off, ghost you, demote you, or ignore you.

I keep telling myself that setting yourself on fire to keep others warm is not wise. The same people you're having a breakdown and existential crisis over, the ones that trigger such unhealthy emotional responses in yourself that you feel that itch to self-harm because you feel such a profound sense of anger and hurt that you don't know how to cope or process it, don't and can't be bothered to give a fuck.

And obviously, this isn't to say people aren't allowed to have lives or responsibilities or things of that nature. That's not what this post is about. This is about bending over backwards and breaking yourself into pieces for people who don't reciprocate what you put in. Never pour into others if it'll leave your own well dry. It never ends well for yourself, and I'm speaking from what I've seen and experienced personally.

[victonrevival]

idk if im imagining things but sik is looking so pretty these days as if he's a male lead in the last few episodes of the drama

and he's already so sweet and gentle but these days he's being so much more sweet n kind in his vlives ;_;

[upside-down-theater-kid]

*inhales* I WILL NOT GET NOSTALGIC FOR THE 2020-2021 OR THE 2021-2022 SCHOOL YEARS I WILL NOT GET NOSTALGIC FOR THE 2020-2021 OR THE 2021-2022 SCHOOL YEARS I WILL NOT GET NOSTALGIC FOR THE 2020-2021 OR THE 2021-2022 SCHOOL YEARS I WILL NOT GET NOSTALGIC FOR THE 2020-2021 OR THE 2021-2022 SCHOOL YEARS I WILL NOT GET NOSTALGIC FOR THE 2020-2021 OR THE 2021-2022 SCHOOL YEARS I WILL NOT GET NOSTALGIC FOR THE 2020-2021 OR THE 2021-2022 SCHOOL YEARS I WILL NOT GET NOSTALGIC FOR THE 2020-2021 OR THE 2021-2022 SCHOOL YEARS I WILL NOT GET NOSTALGIC FOR THE 2020-2021 OR THE 2021-2022 SCHOOL YEARS

[stardustandtwilight]

Look I like the Jedi too but as an institution they were deeply flawed and that's how they were destroyed. They handled Anakin badly and that's a big reason why Palpatine was able to swoop in and manipulate him to the Dark Side. They're "keepers of the peace" but became the face of an army belonging to a fast corrupting Republic. Yes, they did their best to protect people, but also failed people too (see: Shmi Skywalker, see: Ahsoka, see: Trace and her family, see: ANAKIN).