the spinster

pandafleur  asked:

And of course Kawarama's concern is that Tobirama has been /married/ for the last decade without telling anyone. Here he was, worrying about his poor spinster brother and said brother was hiding a spouse. XD

Ahaha, ok, so when I was writing FD, I had to come up with personalities for Kawarama and Itama, right? (Technically I could have left them out, but whatever.) Well, to quickly sum up Kawarama in my head, he’s like a good jock or the bratty younger brother that grew up into a good, moral man who still enjoys being the bratty younger brother. Because siblings, right?

(I have a point to this, but I’ll put the rest under a cut.)

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Essay-writing PSA

Dear Students: as Spinster Aunt of Tumblr and sometime College Writing Instructor, I have unsolicited advice for you. Do sit down and have a cup of tea.

  1. Writing is a learned skill.
  2. Writing is hard.
  3. Writing gets easier with practice.
  4. The quality of your writing does not automatically reflect the quality of your ideas.
  5. By the same token, a critique of your writing is not the same thing as a critique of your ideas
  6. (I’m putting that in bold because I think it’s very important; I have seen lots of creative, insightful ideas hidden in bland or unclear prose.)
  7. Essay prompts are designed to help you.
  8. Office hours are designed to help you. (If your teachers don’t have office hours, it’s probably because they cannot afford to. It’s a long, sad story.)
  9. Time spent with your own ideas is always worthwhile.
  10. Time spent revising your own writing is always worthwhile.

Go forth and conquer! Send your ideas out into the world! And remember: writing is a learned skill. Writing is hard. Writing gets easier with practice. Oh, and tea helps.

  • nina: oh inej, you beautiful, naive, sophisticated newborn baby
  • nina: oh inej, you beautiful, rule-breaking moth
  • nina: inej, you tricky minx!
  • nina: oh inej, you beautiful spinster, i will find you love
  • nina: inej, you beautiful, tropical fish
  • nina: you are a beautiful, talented, brilliant, powerful musk ox
  • nina: inej, you poetic and noble land mermaid
  • nina: oh inej ghafa, you perfect sunflower

so, my buddy littledivinity and i have been talking beauty & the beast a lot, because ‘tis the season, and we somehow stumbled upon the idea of the story being told about a middle aged belle and the beast instead of youngins, and how that would make the story even more resonant.

and then just now i randomly thought, “what if nicole kidman and ewan mcgregor starred in such a film?”, because my soul needs nicole kidman and ewan mcgregor to fall in love again on a movie screen like it needs few other things in this life. plus, you know, musical, bright colors, awesomeness, hurrah!

and then i thought, ‘but wait, actually, what i really want in this life, even more than brightly colored musicals, is more lowkey and lovely fairytale movies like exquisite and incomparable 1998 masterpiece ever after

and just picture it!

nicole kidman is the longtime spinster school teacher who lives in a quaint vaguely magical 19th century-esque country village, but she’s a badass teacher who exposes her students to different philosophies of thought and probably takes them outside for nature studies and calisthenics. (so, basically, miss stacy from anne of green gables.) the school board hates her, probably, and is very suspicious of what kind of IDEAS she’s filling the local kids’ heads with (why does she keep saying it’s okay for girls not to want to be wives and mothers, or that it’s all right for boys to cry???? is it possible that she is A WITCH???), but her parents were very well regarded in the town when they were still alive and so that bought her some respect for awhile. but there’s a new fancy schmancy family with school aged kids in town, and they’re extremely disapproving of miss nicole, and trying to find a way to oust her as schoolteacher and replace her with a man who is probably very similar in temperament to mr. collins from pride & prejudice. a man who will put patriarchal gender roles back into childhood education!

meanwhile, ewan mcgregor is a grumpy old hermit duke or something who once had great wealth and privilege but has fallen into disrepair. maybe someone cursed (magically? complicated vengeance-ly, a la the count of monte cristo? who knows) his family long ago due to their shady rich people business dealings, and his father killed himself to escape the scandal and his mother died of heartbreak and his fiancee who he thought loved him steadfastly dumped him to marry another, and now ewan’s the last surviving member of his once-great family and he just lives alone this grand old manor house that has gone totally to seed. he isn’t an actual beast, because it seems like in this day and age that’s going to require levels of CGI that my quaint b&tb retelling movie just don’t need, but let’s say that he’s quite unshaven and dirty and generally off-putting and he sometimes ventures out into the forest that separates his estate from the village, but is never seen actually frequenting the village. there are abundant rumors that the forest and manor house are haunted by a beast/ghost/warlock/vampire (how does he SURVIVE if he doesn’t come to the weekly market for food???), and everyone knows you don’t go there. also, people like to gossip a ton about his family and the scandal even though it was decades ago and they all dead. because people suck.

so one night, some of nicole’s rowdy teen pupils maybe steal some wine from one of their parents’ liquor cabinets and venture into the woods and dare each other to go past the gate of his manor house, and he catches them at it and gets HELLA PISSED @ THESE UPPITY HOOLIGANS INVADING HIS PROPERTY. kids today!!!!!!!!! he probably locks them in the stables so he can deliver them a 5 hour lecture on why they suck, and also why all of humanity sucks. which isn’t the worst fate ever, but, like, he kind of looks like a straight up crazy ax murderer (crazy hair! crazy beard! tattered clothes! definitely hasn’t bathed this month!!!), so there’s some serious panic in the hearts of these kids.

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Me, an INFP: I’m such a hopeless romantic. I dream of falling in love at first sight, marrying on a cliff overlooking a beautiful view of the ocean, and living happily ever after.

Me, also an INFP: Meh. I have strong fears of rejection, betrayal, and loss of passion. I don’t currently feel that I could actually handle the emotional struggles of being in a relationship. I’d be better off single, with a dog or two (or cat).


The Legend of Korra Rewatch: The Battle of Zaofu—► {Kuvira}

I want you all to know that I would never ask any of you to do something that I’m not willing to do myself. So, rather than risk your lives, I will fight the Avatar one-on-one. Korra, if you win, then you can do whatever you want with Zaofu. But after I beat you, I want you out of my business for good. I’m the one who brought peace to the Earth Empire, not you. You’re not relevant here anymore.

ok tumblr let me see my spinster girls...

girls who have rejected multiple proposals. girls who have never been proposed to at all. girls who are still the mistresses of their fathers’ houses at age 30. girls whose sisters married down, who are pressured to marry well and preserve the stature of the family name. you ARE valid


“Feminist: A person who believes in the social, political, and economic equality of all genders, regardless of race, ethnicity, socioeconomic class, religion, ability and sexual orientation.”

I am a feminist because I am too scared to walk alone at night.

I am a feminist because I got lined up in a classroom in order of who had the nicest arse, aged thirteen, by all the boys in the class.

I am a feminist because everyone asks me if I’m feeling OK on the days I don’t wear makeup.  

I am a feminist because a man I was managing was paid the same as me.

I am a feminist because every girl I know was sexually harassed before the age of sixteen.  

I am a feminist because women write insightful and beautiful books about relationships and they’re labelled chick lit. I am a feminist because men write insightful and beautiful books about relationships and get longlisted for the Booker prize.  

I am a feminist because 50% of the films nominated for Best Picture Academy Awards did not pass the simple Bechdel test.

I am a feminist because whenever I watch a movie, music video, or open a magazine, I feel instantly insecure about my body.

I am a feminist because my two-year-old niece pointed to a picture of a blue hat in a book and said, “Boy’s hat”.

I am a feminist because I am regularly interrupted by men whenever I dare to open my mouth.  

I am a feminist because when I do mixed-sex school visits, the girls never, ever put their hand up to ask a question. But, when it’s just girls, we usually have to leave extra time for questions.

I am a feminist because I feel I need to hide my tampon up my sleeve on the way to the toilet.

I am a feminist because teenage boys come up to me at events and ask if they’re “allowed” to read my books.

I am a feminist for all the boys I supported, working at a charity, who would rather harm themselves than cry.

I am a feminist because my wonderful, caring, brilliant feminist father has still never cleaned a toilet in his life.  

I am a feminist because this is only the tip of it. The tip of it in my privileged, first-world, pale-skinned, straight, fully-abled life.  

I am feminist for all the women for whom it is unimaginably harder than it is for me.

I am a feminist because I am angry and exhausted and terrified and frustrated and confused. And even though it’s so much harder to fight, so much easier to roll over, I am a feminist because… how can you not be a feminist?  

I am a feminist for all the things I’m damaged by that I don’t want to share here today.  

I am a feminist. And I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty and defensive. I’m not saying that because I think you’re a bad person. I’m not saying that because I hate half of the human population and want them all punished.  

I am saying that because I believe every human being should have an equal shot at a healthy and happy life, no matter what body they are born into. And that’s not going to happen unless we fight, unless we speak up, unless we occasionally make people feel uncomfortable, unless we – at the very freaking least – TRY.

That’s why #IAmAFeminist. Now, how about you?

St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Missouri, July 4, 1908

It was originally believed that the person who sent the bottle of poisoned ale to Dr. Wilson was a man named Frederick Geis, Jr. whose wife, Bess, had died following a botched abortion preformed by the doctor. Fred’s family didn’t even know he’d married Bess, but he claimed they had married secretly in another city (using false names) simply to save her position as school teacher, as at the time teachers had to be spinsters or give up their jobs. Presumably that’s at least part of the reason why Bess had to have the abortion as well. 

The doctor received a bottle purported to be sent as an advertisement for a new type of ale which it was hoped, if he enjoyed it, he would recommend to his “patients and friends”. The brewery it was said to have come from told police that they didn’t use typewriters in making their labels, that the letterhead was not their own, and that they didn’t even make ale. Detectives found the shop where the special “S” key for the type was purchased but not the man who purchased it. 

The express clerk who received the package was also sent an anonymous letter telling him to “go slow, indeed, in identifying anybody in the matter. It would be awful to send anyone to the gallows for putting such an infernal rascal as Wilson out of business”.

Frederick was arrested for killing the doctor in revenge for his wife’s death but was released when it came to light that the bottle had been sent to Dr. Wilson before Bess had died (there was a mix up with the dates, confusing the American system with the European, reading the date as the month and vise-versa). Fred’s arrested came a day or two after this article was published and he was released by July 7th.

On the first anniversary of the doctor’s death a package was mailed to the police from the killer, which included the special “S” keys used to type the bottle’s label, as well as a piece of wood bearing the same hammer impression which was used to package the bottle of ale.

 An article in the The Cincinnati Enquirer written July 16, 1916 shows there was still no clue as to who might have sent Dr. Wilson the poisoned ale.

Rebecca's Lame Ancestor
Desmond Miles/Rebecca Crane/Shaun Hastings
Rebecca's Lame Ancestor

Desmond: You ever use the Animus?

Rebecca: Your ancestors have such interesting lives. I went in once. It was pretty lame.

Shaun: Yeah, what were you? Some kind of spinster probably?

Rebecca: Worse. A Prussian mercenary. I spent hours firing guns. BORING.

Shaun: Yeah. Guns are for sissies.

Happy birthday Rebecca!

Charlotte Lucas is the most sympathetic character Jane Austen ever wrote, IMO.

Because like Elizabeth,  the reader can’t truly condone what she is doing.

She married a man she obviously didn’t care for.  For money, for status, so she wouldn’t end up a spinster and a burden on her family.

But, like Elizabeth eventually realises: “Well, eh, she seems happy enough. Her husband is a fool, but not abusive. And she likes being a vicar’s wife.” 

How bad was Mr Collins, really? Compared to some of the men at the time?  

The whole Charlotte character is about women and their choices when a knight in shining armour ain’t showing up anytime soon.

Imagine InuKag having a daughter, a little girl, let’s say the last baby child of the family, the youngest of the siblings okay? A small adorable little thing with a very big diva attitude and she loves to babble and talk and ask a million questions a minute about the mysterious wonderous World Mama Used To Live In, and imagine that she also likes fashion cause I mean with how stylish her mama is/was (remember those manga covers? Yeah, Kagome was VOUGE) she was BOUND to be into fashion too. So she asks her Mama to draw out some designs from the 1990s on paper so they can maybe bring some outfits back to life together (and man is she FASCINATED), and this little quarter demon twerp struts around town with a cape jacket and a beret (lots of OOOHS and AAHHS from her admiring public of collected toddlers) & every so often when Mama Kags gets TIRED so will you find papa Inuyasha huddled in a corner with his little spinster making dresses and folding ribbons, using handy claws to cut fabric with a deep and concentrated frown going- “What are we again???”
“Papa, we are the FASHYON police.”