too drunk for good art right now

ironman-out-keele  asked:

do you ever imagine Harry's hair being too long and keeps getting in the way during potions or something and Hermione gets tired of his grumbling, grabs his head and pins the offending hair with a bobby pin or a hair clip?

Yeah and I also imagine how I suddenly become good at doodling because let’s face it, i’m terrible at it at the moment

vagarius  asked:

i want to write like ten million headcanons for your dark! defense club au but tbh the one thing running through my mind right now is atsushi cheerfully going "en-chan!" (assuming identities arent a problem/concern) as the world pretty much burns around them (the Good Guys and bystanders are decidedly both disturbed and mildly concerned)

when i saw this ask i said: I HAVE TO DRAW THIS. I HAVE TO but when odds decided to make me unsave my art before i could post it i fAILED. i was drunk too anyway lmao

Even Akoya’s pretty DONE with all the Dark!DC’s schemes and taking turns to fuck them up – he just raised his arms cOS HE’S DONE BUT MILDLY SCARED BECAUSE ATSUSHI’S PRETTY DARN SCARY ATM

While Yufuin is trying not be Mildy Concerned but HE’S TOTALLY IS (a re-design for Yufuin’s CA with a mini ponytail)

I’M PRETTY OPEN WITH ANY HEADCANONS OK so i wrote these things that i came up suddenly. this is quite long (minus Yufuin and Atsushi)

Keep reading

Undyne and Alphys - a WhoLe nEw WoRLD???
ShutUpAdachi [Drunk]
Undyne and Alphys - a WhoLe nEw WoRLD???

There’s so much to celebrate right now, oh my god.

Holy shit. I just. I am fucking over the moon thousands of times over. Thank you SO MUCH for your continued support.

UNDERTALE won the GF thing too!
That’s fucking neato.

And TerrariaTale is getting a bit of a following! 
Fucking amazing.

Anyway, to celebrate, here’s some delicious tunes.

I think you’ll REALLY like this you guys.


Ridiculous album art @kyleehenke

I Drew You

My first fic on here 😋 please be nice

@letsgiggletogether and @ourforgottenboleros are both incredible writers and their friendship/yelling/gifs are goals. They were the ones who inspired me to start writing again, so thank you to you both!

Words: 1166

Warning: like 3 swear words

People would politely smile and be surprised when you told them you were going to major in art, but you knew that they all doubted you. You could see in their eyes, that look of pity, of “you’re wasting your brains.” You couldn’t blame them - it was understandable. Straight A’s in all the highest classes throughout high school, 4.00 GPA. You could’ve had a high paying job as a doctor or secretary somewhere, but what was the point in making money when it made you miserable? So you ignored the looks and doubt, and packed your bags for NYU.

You met Lin at a bar. He was already drunk off his ass and murmuring to himself, making wild hand gestures before scribbling things down in a little notebook. At a bar. With the help of a bloody mary, you gathered the courage to talk to him.

“Hey. Sorry to bug you, but what in the world are you doing?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Writing a musical,” Lin casually said, not looking up from writing.

“Really? That’s fucking awesome. What’s it about?” you asked as he ordered another drink.

“Alexander Hamilton.”

You frowned. “The guy on the ten?”


You then slid a piece of spare paper from his stack and started sketching out the ten-dollar bill with a comical Hamilton yelling “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” and then slid it back towards him.

He glanced at it and then took a double take. “Damn, that’s, really good,” he laughed, and then lifted his face to finally look at you. His eyes widened.

“What?” you questioned uncertainly.

He shook his head, causing his hair to shake back and forth as well. “Nothing. It’s just, you sound drunk but you don’t look it. That’s impressive.”

I smirked. “I can drink twice as much as you have and look twice as good as you right now.”

He laughed. “You’re on, chica. Before we get too hammered, I’m Lin-Manuel Miranda.” He held his hand out to shake.

“Y/N,” you informed, taking his hand in yours. That night was the first of many drinking contests which then lead to late night conversations while stumbling around the city, drunkenly singing songs and waking every street cat slinking around.

A couple years, songs, and pieces of art later, you swung the door open to find Lin standing there, fidgeting with his hands. His long silky hair was up in his ponytail and it looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

You had been working on a charcoal piece through the night for a client and your arms and hands were coated in the stuff. “What d’you want?” you gruffly grumbled.

“Can I come in? I gotta ask you something,” he ran a hand through his hair.

Wordlessly, you moved aside to let him in, where he collapsed on your couch. You sat next to him, and he rested his head on your shoulder. You placed your own head on top of his.

He got up almost immediately and you felt cold without him near you. “I was hoping, could you design the cover of Hamilton?” he blurted out.

He and you stared at one another for a moment before you burst out laughing. “You came here just to ask that? Lin, I would’ve said yes under any circumstance, of course!” You ran up and hugged him, having to stand on your tippy toes to reach him.

His arms came around you. “You, thank you so much. Can we start now?” he questioned, the look in his eyes reminding you of a small child asking if they can have their ice cream right after eating dinner. Smiling, you nodded yes. You leaned back far enough to see his face and brushed a loose strand of hair from his face, forgetting all the charcoal dust and leaving a streak across his skin. You barked out a laugh.

Lin noticed and rolled his eyes. “What’re you working on?”

You padded off and lead him to a room in the apartment that you deemed your studio. The client had requested a realistic landscape done in all charcoal, which was an unusual demand, not to mention difficult.

Lin’s mouth was slightly open in awe at the piece. You had to admit, it was some of your best work, save for a chunk of a stream.

“I have to finish this, it’ll only be about a half hour, if you don’t mind waiting.”

Lin shook his head, “It’ll be my pleasure.” With that, he sat himself on the huge orange bean bag in the corner of your studio.

You only nodded and lost yourself within the art, in the darks and lights, in the softly blended and harshly separated. The stream was flowing, and you stepped back to see if it needed any touch ups.

“Lin, what do you think?” you asked. Silence. “Lin?”

You turned, only to be met by the sight of him fast asleep on the bean bag. Morning light shone in from the open-blinded windows, leaving streaks of gold resting in the room, one resting on Lin’s face. The calm of sleep melted away the stress lines he usually adorned. You felt that feeling inside you, the one begging you to capture how you saw the moment from your eyes. So you got to work.

It wasn’t until your alarm rang, reminding you to call your mom in the afternoon, that you realized how long it had been. The alarm, in addition to waking you from your stupor, also woke Lin before you could turn it off.

He shot up, rubbing his eyes. “Y/N? How long was I out?”

“A few hours,” you responded.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, you must’ve had stuff to do…” he made towards the door to leave.

“No no no, you were fine. I, um, busied myself.” You willed yourself not to fucking blush.

Lin opened his mouth as if to say something in response, but no sound came out as his focus shifted to something behind you. Following his gaze, you saw he was looking at the portrait you had all but completed, just your signature needed.


“You just looked so calm and peaceful, and I, I drew you,” you sheepishly explained, tugging your hands in your jeans.

He only stared at the drawing.

“D’you like it?” you walked up behind him, biting your lip.

Lin was still for a moment, and your heart sunk for a moment, before he turned around and his lips crashed into yours, softly giving you all the answers you needed.

“I love it. I love you,” he breathed after you two parted, beaming. You only wished you could’ve drawn your own wide smile as he went in to kiss you once more.