four foot

how tall is Yukine?

According to this chart, Yukine is barely bigger than Kuraha as a lion:

And how tall is the average male lion? At the shoulders it’s around 3.9 feet. So on average he’s probably a little bigger than four feet.

And if Yukine is barely bigger than that, it means he’s under five feet. Yukine is four foot something. He is a tiny little boy

This is made more believable when you consider that the average japanese woman is around 5′2 and the average male is 5′7 ½. 

Side note; the wiki does say that Hiyori is 5′6, but I find that a little hard to believe. If she’s already two inches taller than the average woman in middle school, why hasn’t she been scouted by the basketball team? Not to mention she’s grown as the manga has progressed (as pointed out by @hafuriyuki) So by now she’d be at least 5′8.

In conclusion: Yukine is a tiny boy, Hiyori is not taller than me, the wiki heights (which aren’t cited) are wrong and @yatorihell can fight me.

i love this part enough that i wasn’t satisfied with the slow panning up of the ‘camera’ - i decided to copy and paste the images together to show the whole thing at once. thought i’d post it here in case others felt the same way (and also so i can find it again)

6

Make Your Own Besom

You’ll Need:

  • A four foot stick ~1 inch in diameter
  • Ball of twine
  • Scissors
  • Straw, twigs, or herbs for the bristles
  1. Allow dry straw to soak overnight in warm, lightly salted water
  2. Remove the straws from the water and allow them to dry to the touch
  3. Lay out the length of your stick, and line up your straw
  4. Starting about three inches from the bottom, lay the straws facing backward along the stick
  5. Securely bind the straw to the stick with twine
  6. Continue adding as many layers of straw as necessary to reach desired fullness
  7. When the straw is secured, pull the straws down over the twine so that they face the right direction, covering your initial ties
  8. Tie off the folded straws again, a few inches below the original tie
  9. Leave the besom overnight to dry
  10. Paint and decorate the dry besom as desired
  11. Dedicate your finished besom in your Circle as you would any other ritual tool

Image sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6

anonymous asked:

What if humans are the only ones to have made up chewing gum and the aliens are just so confused because we chew something continuously even though it has no nutritional value, it makes no sense.

I absolutely love this!

“I think our Human might be broken or starving,” Commander Tryvann said, looking to the ships nutritional expert, a four foot tall Besseggen affectionately nicknamed Bob by the human Awtowi also known as “Toni”.
“Human Toni is chewing on what scans as styrene-butadiene rubber, which apparently is a common component in things like human shoe soles.” Tryvann elaborated, so worried xir gaustatop pouch puffed out.

“Did human Toni ingest it, or did they repeatedly use their exposed face bones to crush it, occasionally puffing it into a sphere?” Bob questioned, surprising the Commander tremendously.

“They… Commander Tryvann did not see them ingest it. How could you know this, Besseggen Bob?”

“Humans are a strange species, Commander. They seem to do it for fun.” Bob said, quickly continuing before the Commander worried xir ship would be destroyed. “It poses no threat for anyone in the vicinity - with the exception of an allergic reaction among the Surtningssui species, but there are none of them aboard. It seems to be anxiety alleviating for some humans, and for others it presents them with something ‘to do’ in between feeding times.” Bob elaborated, mimicking the ‘quotation marks’ Toni had shown them. The Commander knew better than to question it.

“Is Besseggen Bob certain of this?” Commander Tryvann asked cautiously, not wanting another cigarette incident.

“Toni did have to think for a long time before coming up with the answer, but I believe that has more to do with them being accustomed to it than them giving any misinformation.” Bob said after a moment of consideration.

“Besseggen Bob will be held accountable along with Human Toni if this proves false.” Commander Tryvann declared before heading back to xir post, once again reminded that xe would never truly understand humans.

local psych and writing major with bad grammar here to tell you about subtle body language shit people do when they’re talking to help out with writing interactions:

  • note that people who are high self monitors will notice these behaviors more often and can adapt to different conversations more than those who are low self monitors, who may not realize that they are reacting inappropriately in a situation.
  • second note that we only remember a fraction of dialogue and conversation, what sticks in our mind is how a person made us feel during the conversation
  • women, parents, good teachers, and actors are more sensitive to gestures and expressions and noticing subconscious behaviors in others.  
  • please note that some of this may not apply to everyone, keep in mind where these social situations could change for your neurodivergent, mentally ill, and disabled characters

under the cut, i go through non-verbal interaction, gestures, personal space, and eye contact

Keep reading

I always thought it was funny that your player character in Pokemon is 10 years old. Like, yeah, they’re “anime ten” where they look at least 18 yadda yadda, but they’re still ten.

Imagine the people in the Pokemon League. These are fully grown adults, right? They’ve trained their entire lives to be the best trainers in their country. They’re the best of the best. And then a ten year old walks in. A high and mighty four foot tall ten year old with a big smile on their face walks in. They’ve never even seen a tity. They don’t know where babies come from. They’re ten.

How did this ten year old get in to your arena? Did they wander in here by mistake? They say they’re here to battle you. Aww, how cute. This kid wants to fight the big league trainers, so they snuck in to fight you. That’s cute and funny. You’ll tell the others about this next lunch break. You decide to humor the kid and accept their challenge. You toss out your level 50 Tyranitar. You and this Pokemon have spent decades together, you trained for ages to get it to Level 50. You’re the best trainer in the country.

The kid reaches on their belt and tosses a Master Ball. Wait, what? A Master Ball? How did that kid get a Master Ball? Out of the master ball pops…

God.

God popped out of the Master Ball. 

The very same God Pokemon that controls the flow of space, that you go to church and pray to every Sunday. 

This ten year old kid just pulled out a Master Ball and threw God at you. God is, in fact, Level 73. 

God shoots Hyper Beam at your life-long partner Tyranitar, causing it to evaporate in to dust. He’s fainted in one hit. The kid yawns.

The kid wipes your entire party of Pokemon, the Pokemon you spent most of your adult life training and caring for. You are stunned. You ask the trainer how long they’ve been doing this. They say “I started a couple of days ago.”

This kid is ten. 

0n-y0ur-left  asked:

The "Don't tell anyone you saw me crying" AU sounds super promising!

The best part of Steve’s day is, generally when he gets to go eat lunch in the abandoned teacher’s office on the third floor. It’s quiet up there, and it’s not so dusty now that one of the custodians noticed him hanging out there and comes around to clean it up every so often. So, all in all, not a bad place to quietly eat his lunch, do some homework, and maybe get a bit of drawing done, if he’s up to it.

Except today, apparently.

After the bell rings and fifth period starts, Steve makes his way up to the abandoned teacher’s lounge. He’s got a cheese sandwich, apple slices and a can of Diet Sprite that he’s excited to eat, and a drawing of one of his classmates — a guy who probably doesn’t even know Steve exists, let alone would want Steve drawing him, but that’s the one good thing about being invisible — that he’s excited to finish up. But when he gets to his abandoned teacher’s office, he hears someone…

Well, he hears someone crying.

Still, it’s his abandoned teacher’s office — he doesn’t have much else to take ownership of at this school, so he’ll take what he can get — so he enters anyway.

“What the hell?” Bucky Barnes says, furiously wiping off his face with the sleeve of his henley.

“Oh, uh,” Steve says, clutching the sketchbook that has an in-progress drawing of Bucky Freaking Barnes in it tight.

“Come to laugh at me?” Bucky asks with a rueful chuckle.

“What? No,” Steve says, maybe a little fiercer than he should.

“Then what?” Bucky asks.

“I eat lunch here every day,” Steve says, straightening up. He may only be five foot four and weigh the same as a wet dachshund, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t be intimidating!

He does wish that his beanie would quit sliding down his head and hiding his eyebrows. Having visible eyebrows would probably help the intimidating factor.

“You eat… here?” Bucky asks, looking around the dim room like he’s really seeing it for the first time. He grimaces.

Steve pushes his beanie back. “You’re here crying!” Steve argues.

“Yeah, but I’ve only been here a couple times. You’re here every day.”

Steve scoffs. “Are you trying to contest who of the two of us is less pathetic, because that’s probably a pretty easy fight.”

“What do you mean by that?” Bucky asks, voice getting louder.

“You have everything — friends, football, popularity. I just want to eat my cheese sandwich and listen to my iPod during lunchtime without having to confront crying jocks.”

Bucky stares at him for a moment, then his face screws up. “I’m s-s-sorry,” he says, starting to cry again.

“Oh jeez,” Steve says, shutting the door behind him and taking a few steps across the room, closer to the desk Bucky is sitting at. “Don’t… Cry, okay? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“You didn’t… it’s not your fault,” Bucky says, burying his face in his hands.

Steve drops his backpack and kneels down, digging through it. After about forty seconds, he emerges victorious with a half-used pack of tissues. “Here,” he says, handing them out to Bucky.

Bucky looks up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. “Really?” he asks. Steve nods. Bucky reaches out and takes the tissues from him. “Thanks,” he says, pulling one free from the package and loudly blowing his nose.

“No problem,” Steve says, trying not to be grossed out, though he can’t help but cringe a little when Bucky looks back up with a line of snot dripping out of his nose. “You oughta…” he says, gesturing to his nose.

“Shit,” Bucky says, wiping his nose again.

“Then again, if you’re sporting snot, I’m sure the rest of the school will follow,” Steve says, hoping he doesn’t sound as bitter as he feels.

Bucky shakes his head. “You don’t get it,” he says. “I’m not… It’s not like that.”

“That’s not what it looks from the outside,” Steve says, quiet.

Bucky gives him a little half-smile. “I’m just gonna tell you this because I feel like this abandoned teacher’s lounge is a safe, trustworthy space, okay? And because I feel like you won’t blab to a bunch of people, but everyone fuckin’ hates me.”

“Really?” Steve asks, deadpan.

Bucky nods. “It’s… Well, they may not think they hate me, but they do.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s because you’re too beautiful. If you do, I may scream,” Steve says and is rewarded when Bucky laughs.

“You’re spitfire,” he says. “Anyhow, I’m gay, and they’d fuckin’ hate me if they knew.”

There’s a long pause.

“You’re gay?” Steve asks.

Bucky nods, mouth flattening. “It feels real weird to say it out loud,” he admits.

Steve’s mouth drops. “I’m the first person you’ve told?” he asks, surprised.

Bucky shrugs. “I don’t got anyone to tell. My old man’s a homophobic asswipe who’d kick my ass if he knew, and it’s not like I’m gonna tell the guys on the football team that I like guys. They’d take turns kickin’ my ass and leave me a bloody lump on the field.”

Swallowing hard, Steve takes a seat close to Bucky’s. “That’s… a lot,” he says.

“I know,” Bucky says. “Which is why I feel justified to stay in this abandoned teacher’s lounge and cry for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

There’s a long pause.

“Can I eat my sandwich while you do so?”

Bucky snorts. “Sure,” he says. “Let’s live it up. Cheese sandwiches and tears, quite the couple.”

Steve shrugs. “I’ve seen worse,” he says, pulling his sandwich from his backpack and splitting it in half. “Want some?” he asks, holding it out to Bucky.

“Sure,” Bucky says, grabbing the sandwich and taking a huge bite.

— —

“Hey,” Bucky says as the bell for sixth period rings.

“Yeah?” Steve says, packing his stuff up.

“Wanna do this again tomorrow? Maybe without the crying?”

Steve smiles. “Sure,” he says.

— —

In a week, Bucky is letting Steve draw him.

In a month, Steve is letting Bucky kiss him.

In a year, they walk around their college campus hand-in-hand.

3

“Ed Sheeran has been immortalised in a new painting to be unveiled at the National Portrait Gallery. The museum has acquired the first portrait painted of the singer since the start of his professional career. The four-foot square oil painting on linen was created by Belfast-based artist Colin Davidson. Sheeran posed for three hours at his home in Suffolk in 2015. “ (C: x / x)

There’s no need to size up Mitch Marner

SAN JOSE—Paul Marner has been hearing it almost from the moment his son began dominating minor hockey games around the GTA.

“We’d stand there and listen to people constantly talk about Mitch’s size. ‘Oh my God, he’s way too small.’ ‘Oh my God, he’s going to get killed,’ ” Paul Marner was saying recently. “But as a parent, maybe you’re too close to it. At the time we never thought he was that small.”

Upon more recent review — looking back at video of Mitch’s rise through the ranks of the Greater Toronto Hockey League en route to starring for the Maple Leafs during a remarkable rookie year — a father has come to see things differently.

“I pulled out a game tape the other day from peewee and I thought to myself, ‘Oh my God, he looks like someone’s little brother on the ice.’ ”

Little Mitch, at the time, was playing peewee against boys a year older. At the time Michael Dal Colle, a longtime minor-hockey teammate of Marner’s who went on to be taken fifth overall by the New York Islanders in the 2014 NHL draft, was about 13 years old, standing five-foot-eight and 160 pounds, Paul Marner said. Mitch, at the same time, was four-foot-seven and about 85 pounds. Body-checking was permitted.

“Every coach we played against was sending guys out to kill him. So his whole life, Mitch has dealt with that,” Paul Marner said. “And right now, even though there’s some huge guys in the NHL, I think he’s at the least size disadvantage he’s probably ever had his whole life.”

“It was eating him up inside to be out of the lineup — it’s been hard on him,” said Matt Martin, the Leafs forward. “But for a guy like that, you just want to make sure he’s taking care of himself.”

Paul Marner said questions about Mitch’s long-term durability have always gone hand in hand with concerns about his skimpy frame. A couple of years back, when Marner was a draft-eligible 17-year-old racking up a nightly average of two points a game for the OHL’s London Knights, scouts flocked to see him play against the hard-hitting Oshawa Generals, then coached by Leafs assistant D.J. Smith. The fact that Marner suffered a fracture in his elbow that night — this on a hit from behind that earned Oshawa’s Will Petschenig an eight-game suspension — didn’t exactly end the conversation about his chances of weathering the professional grind.

“It’s almost a stigma that won’t go away,” Paul Marner said of concerns about the implications of Marner’s size. “But it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

The hockey father, to that point, said he can count on one hand the instances in which his son has been hurt on a rink. There was a dirty slash that broke Mitch’s arm around age 10. There was a hip flexor issue that kept him out a few weeks when he was about 15. And then there was a case of whiplash suffered as a Knight in 2015, this after Erie’s Mason Marchment cuffed Marner with a stick to the jaw. Marchment was suspended 10 games.

Cheap shots happen, and anyone can get injured. But it’s worth noting the injury that kept Marner out of the lineup these past couple of weeks wasn’t a matter of a bigger player preying on the small-framed Maple Leaf. It was Marner who initiated the contact with Columbus’s Boone Jenner that ended with the Maple Leaf crashing awkwardly into the boards.

“Durability-wise, I’ve never been worried about it. He’s always got his head up,” Paul Marner said. “You look at the amount of time he’s played — how much he was on the ice in minor hockey and in the OHL, and how much he has the puck in the NHL — I think he’s pretty durable.”

It’s a compelling enough case. Mitch, for his part, has long been blase about concerns about his size.

“You can’t do anything about your body,” Marner said. “I’ve always been in this situation.”

The situation, mind you, is improving. While Mitch weighed in at about 160 pounds when the Leafs drafted him fourth overall in 2015, he has since put on weight. Exactly how much weight? Well, Mitch can be coy about this subject.

“It’s whatever it says on the sheet. 170? That’s what it says on the sheet,” he said.

Toronto’s No. 16, in contrast, is downright forceful about his height.

“I’m six feet,” he recently said in a declaration that drew guffaws around the dressing room. “Nobody believes that.”

Mitch, who doesn’t turn 20 until May, said he’s of the belief that he’s still growing. He said his older brother, Chris, had a late spurt around age 20 or 21 and now stands about six-foot-two. And there’s height on mother Bonnie’s side of the family. She’s five-foot-10. Paul Marner, who’s also about five-foot-10, said lately he finds himself looking up at his youngest son, whom he figures can easily add another 20 pounds of muscle to his frame before he’s fully formed.

Said Mitch: “It’s a thing in our family — stuff happens late.”

This is another claim that doesn’t go over well in the Maple Leafs room.

“He tells me he’s still growing all the time,” Martin said, rolling his eyes. “Good luck with that one. He thinks he’s going to be 6-3. I know he’s young. But he’s not that young.”

Mitch Marner shrugged and smiled: “If I grow or not, I’m happy how I am now.”

If how he is now is healthy and back in the lineup as Toronto’s push for the playoffs continues, there’s a fan base that likes him just fine, too.

No matter how hard you try, sometimes it’s not enough.

I don’t post a ton of personal writing on this blog. Academic articles and/or sourced rants with a personal tilt yes, but actually just me talking? Not so much. This is one I think is worth putting up, even though it’s not super professional. 

Something happened tonight that was tragic, and it wasn’t preventable. Which, in and of itself is sort of a misnomer, because what do I always say? If you know you’ve got a problem your watchword is management. Management is prevention. People with dog- or human-aggressive dogs know this all too well. It’s the clock they schedule their lives by. It doesn’t always work. No matter how much you do in terms of prevention, there is always going to be a margin for error and at some point that’s going to bite you in the ass. For people who’ve been told as often as people who own those type of pets have been told ‘your animal’s safety and the safety of other living things is entirely on your shoulders’ this is utterly devastating. 

We imply too often that owners should be able to prevent everything, always, exactly every time. This is what they don’t tell you: at some point, you will have done everything you can, and it will still not be enough. You are going to mess up at some point, or someone else is, or a random nasty is going to screw up your carefully laid plans. Someone will get hurt or someone’s pet might die. It is horrible, it is traumatic, it is heartbreaking - and when you’ve been doing everything you can, it is not your fault. 

Of course you feel guilty. Things went wrong. Hopefully everyone involved escaped mostly unscathed, but that’s not always the case. Even the best laid plans can and will go awry. You feel like you failed your dog and your community and you might be questioning if you are even still the best home for your beloved pet. That is all understandable and reasonable and normal in your situation, and I empathize. But here is what you need to know:

Do not let the accusations of strangers and outsiders make you feel like you are any less than amazing for how much you bend over backwards for the sake of your dog. Do not let people who don’t understand how much you can’t do - can’t go on walks in public, can’t go to dog parks, can’t let your dogs be in the same goddamn room - make you feel even more guilty than you already do. You have already proven you will walk through fire for your animal(s). Hold your head high and work on moving forward. There will be time for figuring out how to prevent error from happening again, but first, remember that when you have done everything you possibly can you are not to blame if things still manage to fall apart. 

Tonight, a dog aggressive dog belonging to a friend of mine attacked the oldest dog (of four) in the household. This is a dog who has successfully lived for a long time in a rotational household with three other dogs, none of whom are particularly fond of other dogs. The rotational schedule this woman and her husband run is impressive, especially considering the changing dynamics of the group over time and more recently the varied medical needs of the dogs. It’s more than I could easily keep track of for a petsitting gig, much less live with. It wasn’t enough. Error happens. The wrong door still got opened at the wrong time. 

The old dog will survive, although the vet made it clear that one of the bites could have very easily been fatal. He’ll heal, and the rotational schedule will continue and the safety-checks and counting of tails before opening doors will be improved to prevent the same problem happening twice and life with go on. It’s not idea - because the best option would have been for the fight to never happen in the first place. But that’s not what always happens, no matter how careful you are. 

I just wanted this to be a thing that people heard. Those of us who are blessed with balanced, stable, well-socialized dogs have no idea how much the lives of people with reactive or aggressive animals are turned upside-down. They face so much prejudice just for walking their animals on a muzzle or avoiding dog parks and loose dogs. These people who keep these animals and devote their lives to managing their environment so that both their pups and everyone around them can have safe, fulfilling lives are pretty damn close to heroes. That’s a sacrifice a lot of people aren’t willing to make for their four-footed friends. So for everyone who doesn’t have dogs like that, keep it in mind and keep your dogs on a leash to make their lives easier. 

To those of you with dogs with issues, I see you. I know how hard you’re trying. Don’t blame yourself too much when things go wrong, hug your dog, and keep working on moving forward again. 

Outstanding Heterosexual Jack Zimmermann Being Interviewed On What He Looks For In A Girl:
“o yeah i love girls and how theyre…. Women. Yeah i love a girl with uhhhhhh who uhhhh uhhhhh wh- uhhhhhhh ummmmmm yeah i love it when girls are like uhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhh girls who have eyes? Love it- a and a nose too! I… Face.”

Not Gay Supreme Jack Zimmerman Being Asked About His Former Teammates:

“nUMBER FIFTEEN YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE! He’s the fastest skater on our team just zzzzip! Zooms RIGHT past ya! And he’s so small too! So small like you could just pick him up with one arm like his ASS ooh my GHODUHH so small fits in one hand!! And those EYES man!, wow uh you could really get lost in them. And our D MEN God now that’s a sandwich id pregame six foot four inches of MUSCLE geez oh gosh i mea-”

She can stay! (At least until February 2018.)

A statue of a young girl that has been staring down New York City’s iconic Wall Street bull sculpture since the eve of International Women’s Day is not going anywhere — at least for another year.

The four-foot “Fearless Girl” statue was installed in front of the bronze “Charging Bull” in time for International Women’s Day earlier this month as a way of calling attention to the gender pay gap and lack of gender diversity on corporate boards in the financial sector, the Wall-Street firm that installed the popular statue has said.

Now the statue, which depicts a pony-tailed girl in a dress defiantly looking up at the bull, will remain at her post until February 2018, New York politicians announced at a press conference on Monday. It was set to be removed on April 2.

Above: Mayor De Blasio, who is 6′ 5″, poses with the statue as the announcement is made Monday. (Drew Angerer/Getty Images)

Read full story here.