it didn't come out as i wanted but it will do orz


“Marry someone who you love. Marry your soulmate, your lover, your best friend.” (x)

Happy (belated) birthday sweet newtongirl!!

As always, I’m very sorry about the delay (2015 must be the year I deliver birthday presents very late) but I hope you will still enjoy this married MakoHaru comic through their live because I know you appreciate domestic/married MH as much as I do (*ノωノ) 

I’d have loved to draw the whole poem but, too long, not for me ;_;


Waitering lessons with Azusa Part 2
逆巻カナト(CV.梶 裕貴) & 無神アズサ(CV.岸尾だいすけ)
Waitering lessons with Azusa Part 2

Another favourite scene of mine from the tokuten drama cd that I got with the Sofmap bonus of Lunatic Parade. Kanato and Azusa are working as waiters and this scene follows exactly after where the first “Waitering lessons with Azusa” post I made left off, with Azusa continuing to teach an irritated Kanato how to be a waiter. So here’s more of Kanato being 1000% done with everything. I hope you enjoy! ꉂ(′ ॢꇴ ॢ‵๑))

Please do not repost this translation anywhere.

Azusa: Next, you carry the cake you received from the kitchen… to the customer’s table but…. before carrying the cake… it’s good… if you add this.

Kanato: Hey… Azusa… What…. are you doing…?

Azusa: A good luck charm to make it delicious… I’m sprinkling… shichimi togarashi onto it.

Kanato: No, that’s strange, isn’t it? Fresh cream and shichimi togarashi definitely don’t go together, do they not?!

Azusa: Eh? I wonder? But… *munching noises* Mmm… It’s delicious!

Kanato: Hey! Don’t just help yourself to the store’s products! Even though I’m holding myself back!

Azusa: Ah…. I couldn’t resist. Sorry…. Um…. Kanato-san, do you also want to try?

Kanato: I don’t need it! Spicy cake is definitely not tasty.

Azusa: You think? What a waste….

Kanato: That aside, you’re going to teach me various things aren’t you? Could you hurry up and let me finish this?

Azusa: Right… Then, in practice, try carrying…. this cake… to the table.

Kanato: Huh? That’s half-eaten you know.

Azusa: It’s fine. Right now… it’s practice.

Kanato: Ah, is that so.

Azusa: Place this cake… onto the tray…. and then… we need to add the warm coffee. You use a coffee mill… to grind…. the beans. Kanato-san, have a try.

Kanato: No. Since it’s practice, isn’t it fine to just pretend we’ve actually done it?

Azusa: You can’t do that. This… is quite difficult so…. Come on, try it out. Hey, hurry.

Kanato: Tch, I get it. I’ll do it already! Happy now?!

Kanato: Something like this is clearly simple. All you have to do is turn the handle. 

Kanato: Hey…. why does it stop?

Azusa: The coffee beans… might’ve been stuck. You need to turn it… more thoroughly.

Kanato: Tch…. Could you not complain about my actions? Ughhh geez, all of this is such a pain! Please move. Move! Uwaahh!! A-arghhh….

Azusa: A-are you alright?

Kanato: Hey… My apron…. is covered in shichimi togarashi coated cream….

Azusa: Eh? But…. That… was because Kanato-san…. was turning the handle too forcibly…

Kanato: Shut up! Are you saying that I’m the one at fault? It’s because you had to leave such a task to me!

Azusa: Ka-Kanato-san, calm down.

Kanato: Shut up! Shut up! I will not hang around with you any longer! I’m going home!

Azusa: No, you can’t…! Wait…!

daiyanodumpster  asked:

okokok i need to come up with something better how's. this. "Here, take my coat, you look cold"

Sankt Petersburg is cold. This is not unusual. What is unusual is Victor’s miserable state. He’d left his coat at the rink, and it was probably completely closed now. While he did have his wallet on him, his keys to his apartment (and the rink) as well as his phone were in his coat.

Not to mention Sankt Petersburg is cold, and now he’s cursed himself to going home in this miserable weather. He jogs as quickly as possible, trying to keep himself warm. His breath puffs out into the air almost like steam, and he can’t hold back a shiver as he waits at a crosswalk.

Suddenly, there’s a tap on his shoulder. “Here, take my coat. You look cold,” someone says in English.

Victor turns around in surprise, the first thing he registers being a fluffy-looking burgundy coat. “Pardon?”

The coat is lowered, and Victor is taken aback at the man offering it to him. Short black hair, brown eyes, clearly Asian features. His English sounds flawless. “I think you need it more than me,” he says.

“I can’t possibly-” Victor hesitates, of course. He’s more used to the infernal weather than this foreigner, surely. “That’s very kind of you, but…”

The pedestrian light signals to walk.

“I have a ride waiting around the corner, so I insist,” the man says. “Please, take it.” He drops it in Victor’s hands and walks past him onto the crosswalk.

Victor shivers again, hesitating still. He follows after him. “How will I give it back?”

“You can keep it.” Once they’re on the other side of the street, Victor watches, at a loss, as the man walks in a different direction from him now.

“At least give me your name?” Victor calls. He wants a name to put to this kind Samaritan.

He sees the man pause, a smile on his lips when he turns around. “Yuuri!” he replies. He looks immaculate for some reason, in that moment. The lightly falling snow contrasts with his dark hair and dark outfit, and the smile transforms him in a way that makes ‘He’s beautiful’ cross Victor’s mind.

He opens his mouth to give Yuuri his own name, but he is already gone.

Victor ends up donning the coat on the way home. It stops him from shivering, and smells the way that all clothes do when they’re freshly laundered. Comforting. He manages to show the doorman his ID to be let in and get the building manager to open his apartment for him.

Yuuri stays on his mind the whole time. Victor knows it’s foolish to think so much of a random encounter, but few people give away their coats so easily. Especially ones as nice as this one. He remembers the smile, the offer, the gentle way he’d spoken. The kind insistence that Victor take the coat.

What kind of person is Yuuri? Did he like dogs? Why was he in Sankt Petersburg? From Japan, or America, or where?

Deep down, Victor wants to meet him again. Return the coat, maybe ask him for a coffee and get to know him better.

He wants, and it’s silly, but he can’t help it.

The next day, Victor wears the coat on the way to the rink. If he looks around for Yuuri on the way there, well, only he knows that.

Yakov berates him for leaving his coat and everything at the rink last night — as well as Yuri for not noticing before he had left and locked up. Victor hardly notices, too light on his feet about Yuuri and his kindness.

It takes Mila shaking him while he’s tying up his skates for him to snap out of it. “Victor, you didn’t have your phone last night, right? Then you haven’t heard of what happened to Politician Duma.”

Victor frowns. He cares little for politics and politicians. “No, what happened?” he asks anyway.

“Someone blew up his residence!” Mila steals his phone and unlocks it, tapping in something before shoving the screen in Victor’s face. “Everyone’s talking about it though because it was some internationally wanted criminal, and no one knows the motive.”

The face that looks at Victor is blurry, likely from some low-res security camera shot, but a jolt of recognition goes up his spine. The person has slicked-back dark hair and pale skin, and the collar of a black shirt pokes up from their burgundy coat.

“He’s called Eros apparently. This is the best picture they’ve gotten of him, so it’s being televised everywhere.” Mila pauses. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” Victor says. “Nothing at all.”

The burgundy coat burns a hole in his awareness now. The pockets had been empty when he had checked, not a single sign of the owner’s identity. Had Yuuri even been a real name?

As Victor gets on the ice, he feels his hopeful fantasies crumble. Was it really kindness, or did he want to get rid of coat to throw authorities off his track? Was I just convenient? he wonders.

If his skating has a heartbroken tint to it that day, no one dares to comment.

(Send me happy things and I’ll turn them sad/murderous!)

anonymous asked:

hi i'm sorry, i didn't see an faq anywhere, but i was wondering if you had any tips for a beginner artist!

hello there! ^u^ it’s ok, I don’t have a faq, just an about page so don’t worry about that! I’m flattered you’d ask me for advice but honestly I still feel like I’ve got such a long way to go so I don’t know if I’m the right person to ask, haha OTL I guess I can give some very general advice, though, at least stuff that helped me!

  • first of all DON’T!!! COMPARE YOURSELF TO OTHER ARTISTS!! DON’T DO IT. unless you’re able to use it as motivation only, this is just a really bad idea. it’s the best way to crush your spirits, because you’ll always end up looking at other people and feeling dissatisfied that your own work isn’t at that level yet, and no matter how good you are there will always be someone out there who surpasses you in skill. that’s just life, don’t feel bad, remember that everyone’s progress is individual and anyone who’s great at art has worked hard for that for years!!
  • do not trace other artist’s works or imitate their styles to a T. it’s alright to take inspiration, of course, but rather than emulating someone’s style it’s far better to look at what you find appealing about their work and trying to incorporate that into your own style. look for inspiration in different places - if you take all your inspiration from one artist you’ll just end up copying them, which sucks both for the original artist and you! it’s no fun being labeled a copycat and it’ll also feel much better having something you can call your own. people go on about “you can’t copyright a style” and so on, but people WILL notice and it’ll only hinder your own progress
  • on the topic of style, don’t worry too much about it! it’ll come with time, and inconsistency is perfectly normal, especially when you’re just starting out. when you’re just beginning, it’s smart to focus more on basics, like anatomy and the technical aspects of drawing. try to look to real life references as much as possible rather than already stylized drawings - other people’s finished works should not be your go-to reference! also using references is not cheating, I encourage it and I should be lots better at using them myself lol…..
  • lastly, do your best to have fun with drawing! as much as I can understand wanting to be great right away and getting attention for your stuff, that will all come with time. it can be super hard to be patient but just remember that the more you draw, the more you will improve! it comes naturally with time, so try not to rush it, just take your time and enjoy drawing! art can be a real pain but ultimately there’s no point doing it if it’s not rewarding or fun, so don’t be too hard on yourself - even if you hate the things you make at first you WILL get better and it’ll feel so rewarding to look back on your older stuff and see how much you’ve improved! so try your best to just enjoy it and don’t hold yourself to some unreasonable standard - you’ll get better as long as you just keep drawing!!

i finish one, now gotta move onto the next <‘8 

Summary: Nico di Angelo is back from studying abroad in Italy. While Hazel is away with her fiance, Frank, he decides to finish up her lease for her in San Francisco. Which sucks because her apartment is a living death trap. Luckily, Mister Jason Grace of Graceful Repairs is on the job. 

Honestly, Nico couldn’t be bothered to change into something more…presentable. Shorts and a t-shirt were perfect for the weather in San Francisco. He loved it.


That attitude quickly escaped when he opened the door.

“Hey! You must be Nico.” Jason, of Graceful Repairs, was nothing else if not attractive.

Like, massively attractive.

If it wasn’t for the fact that the guy was here to fix Nico’s dishwasher, Nico would have felt compelled to put on pants. Formal pants; the pleated black ones with a pair of shiny loafers to boot.


Keep reading

kibummiek  asked:

also 35 and 50 for airport onho i feel very fluffish -<3

(35. Hold my hand, 50. Breaking the rules)

Minho reaches out and takes Jinki’s hand in his in a hurried, fretful instant. As soon as his fingers link around Jinki’s he knows the elder is going to tear into him when they arrive at their hotel.

“What are you doing?” Jinki hisses when they get close enough that no one else will be able to overhear him.

“No one can see under our coats.” If they both weren’t wearing long, thick sleeves he wouldn’t have dared.

“Fans see everything. They see people’s reflections in spoons.”

Minho pales, thinking about that, but he still doesn’t let go until he has too when a staff member comes up behind them.

“Hold my hand,” Jinki says later when Minho’s face is twisted with overwhelming pleasure, cheek turned against the hotel pillows and sweat winding down his stretched neck.

He opens his eyes to see Jinki holding one hand above him and looking down at him expectantly. Minho reaches up and grasps it and their locked grips wind up pressed against the bed and clenching tightly in the heat of things.

“Don’t be so foolish next time,” Jinki warns him when they’ve recovered, only the lightest sheet pulled over their flushed bodies.

Minho listens but doesn’t commit it to heart. Maybe one day that will be their end, but he doesn’t think about that right now. He wants Jinki–that’s what stays first and foremost in his mind and makes him disregard everything else.

However, he behaves when they travel again after Jinki was right, the fans did spot the goings-on, at least in public. In the van he tugs Jinki into the backseat and curls up against him and gets to feel not just the warmth of his palm but the curve of his body against his.