chicken print

5

Hello friends!

Meg here for another TUTOR TUESDAY! I’ve seen a lot of confusion surrounding what exactly CMYK, RGB, and RYB are and I thought I’d take a shot at clearing it up! If you have any recommendations for tutorials send ‘em here or my personal! Keep practicing, have fun, and I’ll see you next week!

la cocina es el centro de la casa

for @thebratfarrar, for her birthday

(read on AO3)

Dean’s been sweating since he woke up this morning. Actually, going by how damp the sheets of his little borrowed cot were, he sweated all night, too. He’d had a weird panicked moment where he thought he’d wet the bed, somehow. Sammy had still been passed out in the bed and Dean had laid there under the slow-turning fan and given himself five minutes to just be… miserable. As far as he can tell, Benson, Arizona, is the armpit of the world. Why couldn’t Dad have caught the hunt in November, or something.

Mrs. Gutierrez is kind of a hard-ass, but she knows about food. When Dean comes out of the bedroom she’d stashed them in, the hot little house already smells awesome, and she barely looks up from whatever she’s doing in her skillet, waves him to the table. He rubs at his eyes with the heel of both hands. He’s not used to these kind of hours in the summer. Ever since he turned sixteen and proved he could be trusted, Dad would take the opportunity of school being out to take him along on more hunts, the two of them running through the woods or watching through the dark of the warm nights or digging graves together, coming back to whatever motel or campsite where Sammy was waiting for them in the hours just before dawn, crashing down sore and feeling good about a job well done. He wants to be out there now. All this ridiculous heat would maybe be a little more bearable if he felt like he was doing something.

A plate clatters down in front of him and he jumps, opens his eyes. Mrs. Gutierrez raises her eyebrows at him and he says, “Thank you,” automatically, and then, “Um, I mean—gracias, ma’am.” She huffs and goes back to the stove. He completely can’t tell if she likes him or not. He’s guessing not.

That said—who cares, if she feeds them like this, holy crap. This will be their third day here, since Dad figured out where the boys were going missing and Mrs. Gutierrez offered to look after them while Dad and a few of the older guys went out looking, and like every single thing she’s fed them has been amazing. This is—eggs, and pieces of tortilla, and some weird white cheese, and enough thick roasted-dark red sauce that he sweats even more, and he groans out loud.

“Respira, caballero,” Mrs. Gutierrez says, in a dry voice, and he opens his eyes again to find her leaning against the stove, cup of coffee rested on her plump belly.

Keep reading

On the 16th we’re going to get new crepes and drinks. Here’s a translation for you all:

Ouma character crepe:
-Whipped cream
-Chocolate sauce
-Grape ice cream (kanji is kind of hard to read there)
-Strawberry
-Chocolate pretzel
-Print cookie (the cookie in the back with Ouma on it)

Harukawa character crepe:
-Lettuce
-Tuna
-Pizza sauce
-Chicken
-Salsa
-Mini tomato
-Print cookie (the cookie in the back with Harukawa on it)

Kiibo drink:
-Orange juice
-Iced tea
-Lemon

Momota drink:
-Blueberry syrup
-Soda water
-_________ piece ((This kanji is waaaaay too small for my skill level. If anyone else wants to take a crack at it, be my guest!)) 
-Pineapple star

Zetsubou drink:
-Peach syrup
-Cider

ALSO PLEASE NOTE: My translation skills aren’t stellar. I’m mostly doing this to relay information and get some practice. If you spot an error, please let me know. :) Thanks.