i have about 20

anonymous asked:

Sorry for ranting but I don't have anyone to talk about it. I am in my mid 20s and I never had any relationship. Only love what I can get is from YouTube. That's why I am so obsessed about them all. In reality no one wants me even. Haha. I am always too shy, boring and I look like 16. My friends have families already and I am just this... sad human.

Originally posted by graveyard-whistler

Anon, first of all, you can rant to me anytime, whether through anonymous asks or if you want to reveal yourself, my chatbox is always open. Secondly—and I know this is easier said than done—try not to be so hard on yourself. Romantic relationships aren’t the only way to find happiness. People break up or divorce all the time. Having a family is a goal for a lot of people, but, again, it doesn’t guarantee happiness. The grass is always greener and other cliches, right?

And, listen, if YouTube is what makes you happy, start from there. I’ve become friends with some wonderful people on here because of my own love for a certain pair of YouTubers. In a previous fandom, I watched online friendships lead to: roommates, collaboration on creative projects, marriages, and moves across the world. I’m not saying that will be the case here, but it’s a starting point. Obviously, we all have a common love, so it’s a good place to begin.

Finally, one thing that helps me when I want to compare myself to the others in my life is to try to reframe my thinking. Let me show you what I mean with what you wrote about yourself: You aren’t shy and boring; you have an air of mystery about you. You don’t look 16; you exude the kind of youthful grace that others spend thousands of dollars trying to recreate.

I don’t know if that helps at all. I tend to be too optimistic, which I realize can be cloying to some. But, if you ever need a dash of positivity, I’m your gal. 💗

happy birthday to my special boy !!!!
it’s a hamster plush party

@americans who are young: 20% is the correct amount to tip your server or delivery person

i say this (and repeat it a lot. probably too much. sorry.) because i know a lot of younger people who are just starting to go places on their own do not know how much they should tip, and i know this because i have heard this dilemma come up sometimes w/ tables of teens i’ve waited on, cause they just don’t know. 

i’m here 4 u teens of america: it’s 20%, unless ur waiter is an asshole (like not bad day asshole but Premium Asshole Asshole) or creepy, in which case it is 15%, dropping appropriately to 10% as their Assholery or Creepiness climbs.

just multiply what your bill is by two and drop the second digit. for example: i spend 15 bux, 15x2 = 30, drop the second digit and the appropriate 20% tip is 3 bux.  or u spent 48 bux, thats like 96, that’s p close to 100 so just tip 10 bux to be Cool. 

if you stay at the table for a long time, also compensate accordingly – servers usually have a limited number of tables that they are given responsibility for (so these five or six tables in the corner are my section, anyone who sits there is my table to take care of) and if you camp out for a long time that can cut into yr servers ability to Make doll4rs and/or Leave Work.

if you know that you’re gonna be catching up w/ an old friend for two hours, you can, honestly, just go “hey i’m planning on chatting w/ my friend for a while, but I know we’re taking up this table, and I’m going to tip extra for your time” and that’ll work out for everyone in the long run. people like to know you’re trying to be respectful of their time + effort. everyone is nice, everyone has a nice good time. 

  • TG fandom after ch113 be like: omG Mutsuki PLEASE be careful! We all know Uta's a dangerous and crazy psycho, so PLEASE WATCH OUT AND BE CAREFUL!!
  • TG fandom after ch114 be like: ...Uta u okay?

reblog if u ARE the new librarian, u SUPPORT the new librarian, or u want OLD PEOPLE to get OFF FACEBOOK

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jin just wants yoongi to get more sun - inspired by this post

*click on image for better quality*

On Shinso and Aizawa

No, this is not a shipping post.

So I have many feels about episode 20 of Boku no Hero, but one of the things I would like to talk about here, is the relationship between Shinso and Aizawa.

We see that Shinso has made it to the duel phase of the Special Olympics. And while his easily excitable friend is shouting about how weird it is that Shinso made it this far, Aizawa is basically sitting there going “I TOLD you guys.”
To Aizawa, the entrance exam was bullshit, because it gave a huge advantage to people with physical quirks. And Aizawa, of all people, should know this.
I mean. A young Aizawa wouldn’t have made it through that entrance exam.

Aizawa is a hero through and through. He has the heart of one. This man pitted himself against an overwhelming amount of villains, knowing he probably wasn’t going to make it. He literally put his own body between a coordinated surprise attack and his students in the hopes of giving them time to flee.
And he would not have been able to enter UA if he was their age.
His quirk is to shut off other quirks.
It wouldn’t have worked against the robots of that year’s exam.

Part of what makes the hero business harder for Aizawa than for, say, Endeavour or All Might is that Aizawa’s quirk is very specialised, and there’s nothing physical about it. He basically had to make up a new martial art using the power of scarves in order to also have a physical component.
There’s a reason that Aizawa is always telling his students not to be a one trick pony and that’s because he had to learn not to be one in order to even qualify as a decent hero. And he knows not everyone has to struggle that hard.
When you have a powerful physical quirk, it’s easy to believe that it will be enough.

So it’s not difficult to imagine that Aizawa recognizes a younger version of himself in Shinso. This is a kid with a Super Powerful quirk, who has some serious trouble finding the right little slot to fit in at UA. 
Because that school is not adapted to accommodate his strengths and overcome his specific weaknesses.

There’s a panel in the later chapters where Aizawa is talking to Shinsho and you kinda feel like they could bond. These two have a lot in common, after all. They both have some sleep schedule issues, judging by the bags under their eyes, they both like cats and they share a common perspective on the world of quirks.
We don’t really know Aizawa’s background (yet), but it wouldn’t surprise me if he really, truly gets what drives Shinso.
And honestly, I hope he starts mentoring him. Because Shinso deservers better.

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I redrew a picture from my trip, this wild coloring is pretty fun.

(Commissions open!)

Yuzuru Hanyu appreciating his training partner Javier Fernandez

“When I feel nervous, he (Javier) [is] usually talking about something funny. So, I think I owe what I won to him” (Yuzuru Hanyu 2017)


AU for 12x11

Sam hasn’t been blackout drunk for a couple of years, not since the night that he got Dean back from demonhood and put away nearly an entire bottle of Jack. That time he woke up face down in his pillows, fully clothed with his dislocated shoulder shooting violent bolts of pain down his spine. This time, he comes to with the sky wheeling white above him, his clothes damp and his knees muddy and twigs and leaves in his hair. He sits up, hauls himself to his feet and staggers forward a dozen yards or so to emerge onto a jogging track, a woman in bright lycra thudding past with headphones in her ears. His legs are bruised and aching and his mind is… fuck, so foggy, a great roiling cloud of nothingness, and he has to stop thinking about that right fucking now if he wants to stay calm. He runs his hands through his hair, dislodging a beetle and a shower of debris, tries to straighten up his clothes. He finds his phone in his pocket, the screen shattered and dead. Great. But the next woman down the track has a guy alongside her, a personal trainer maybe, so Sam steps forward hoping that he won’t intimidate them both away.

“Hey,” he says, hoarse. “Can I – I’m sorry. Can I borrow your phone?” 

Keep reading

Best bros on vacay

Today in Big Mistakes, I accidentally trained my pigeons to swarm my face when I am trying to feed them

So typically in the mornings they wait by their food and water dishes until I give them food and water. I will grab one to sit on my shoulder while I get the food and water ready, and the one on my shoulder normally gets to sip the water while I count out the food. I didn’t really think this through.

My pigeons caught on that my shoulders mean water before everyone else and head scritches because a couple have started landing on my shoulders when I greet them in the morning. I should have stopped and thought, pigeons are pretty smart birds. The pigeons still in the loft can see me when I am grabbing food, they can see me with one or two of the pigeons, and they can see that the one or two that go with me get water before everyone else. I should have thought about what that might lead to. Hindsight is 20/20

Anyway this morning every single one of my pigeons tried to land on my shoulders

Trying to get back into the groove of this doujin. Every time I draw Sesshomaru it’s so stressful cuz it feels like: ‘My God if I don’t draw him absolutely flawless they’ll never forgive me’. Anway, have a preview of one of the newer pages I’ve sketched this week. This one is page 61 (I am only at 68 atm. By my calculations I have about 20 more to sketch)

Also hey look! Flashback to Obon!Kagome from Chapt. 07!

“I deleted your number from my phone month and months ago so that I wouldn’t text you in the late night. I know you sleep well, and fully throughout the night, and you grew sad and distanced yourself each morning you woke to find my frustration, years too late. I unfriended you on Facebook because you liked all the posts I put up, the happy ones, the good ones, the fun ones. I trained my brain to forget your last name. I taught myself not to think of your eyes. Or the shape of your collar bones. I now can proudly say I don’t think of you late at night when I stare at the light coming in my bedroom windows.”

I’m trying to slow time, and stay still enough so that I don’t wreck anything. That I don’t turn any of the good let in my life into something negative. 

I’m writing everything down lately. Because I don’t trust my memory to catch all the good and bad. It’s like a recently mended net, about to test it’s new strength. 

I hate writing K’s and G’s in my handwriting. I like writing L’s and S’s. I bought a spray bottle at the dollar store and filled it up with water and eucalyptus essential oil. I’ve been burning lavender incense and spraying my pillows with the eucalyptus water. I’ve rearranged my bookcase, and listened to an old FM radio. I searched for a station that didn’t have commercials for about 20 mins. My internet had been down some 24 hours at that point and I just needed a little something in my ears.

I’ve been gone 11 days, and now my cats don’t leave me alone. They come, twirling and dancing between my feet as I walk around surveying this apartment I missed. Each tiny and large thing put in a place that feels right, at least for now.  

In college I would repaint my studio apartment’s walls in the middle of the night because I needed a bit of a change. I would rearrange pillows, shelves and furniture because it felt better thinking about how I’d never been kissed. How I’d never known the touch of a trusted lover. Now I do it because it feels good to seek and find solace and comfort here, away from the world outside. 

I’m not sorry that I’ve allowed certain men take root in my memories. Idaho with his grumbling, growling, and breathtaking smile, his declarations. Brown eyes with the way his mouth moved when he talked and his tattoos, and his love of achingly soft music. The midwest gent for his attentive nature, patience, and his stoicism. My southern best friend who made me laugh like no other, with goofy memorable moments of pride and care, his strength. My contractor ex, nationally ranked rugby boyfriend who lived in the Poconos and who made me feel delicate, womanly, but who trusted me with a hammer and power tools. The tall gangly boy who grew into a handsome man, one night to take my hand late at night in his sports car only to whispered beautiful words of praise besides a lake under the moonlight some miles later. 

But that’s because I sometimes forget the bad associated with each. Or the bad I brought to them. 

I’m sitting on the floor, my legs have fallen asleep and I know I should shed my clothes and crawl into my bed. I should make a list of all I want to accomplish tomorrow, and I should, I should, I should, I should. 

I think I’ll soak in the tub, or change my sheets and get into bed and play a song that starts slow and sad, but builds in my chest like road trip views where you get surprised by a great landscape after the same sad thing miles and miles. Just one more hill. Just one more hike, one more mile, until you’re closer. I’m closer.

Everyday, I am thankful for those who have loved me, and who have allowed me to love them, even if it wasn’t enough for either of us in the long run. Because I’m learning to love myself more, and more. Learning to call myself out on my bullshit. Learning that exciting things happen every day, that I can make exciting things happen, worthwhile things.  

That one day, doesn’t matter how soon, all these memories, all this growth will mean a more successful relationship with another extraordinary person. With my extraordinary person. Who will grow with me. That will take me as I am, a person capable of greatness, even if that greatness is just great according to each of us, and the small things I do to affect others positively. 

I just have to breathe in, make several small movements that turn into larger ones, exhale, then do it all over again.