Redbubble Store.

For those that do not know I have a redbubble shop, where you can buy stuff with my art on it! =D  

such as…

this guy.


this gumpy fella.

No? how about:

this cocky asshole? 

Plus MORE! 

The majority of the stuff is available in stickers, prints, phone cases and mugs. But if you wanted a particular design on say… a t-shirt or a scarf, I am will more than likely make that happen for you =) (provided you let me know)

So… Won’t you please go buy my merchandise?

pretty please? 

anonymous asked:

Draco, what was your childhood like?

Draco: *fidgeting slightly* I don’t know? It was okay. Comfortable. 

Harry: …And?

Draco: And, that’s it. 

Harry: *suddenly chortling* Oh my god, love, do you believe I’d burst into tears or something? I mean, nearly everyone I know had a better childhood than I did. It’s fine!

Draco: It’s not fine! 

Harry: Okay, but I wouldn’t feel bad if you told them about your childhood. You barely even tell me!

Draco: Why would I want to go around telling everyone about how incredibly pampered I was as a child while my own husband spent his childhood living in a cupboard?! *miserable*

Harry: *pulling him closer with a sigh* It’s been years, okay? I try never to think about that time, and you shouldn’t dwell on it either. Now tell me how old you were when you got your first broom?

Draco: *subdued* Seven.

Harry: Mhm, and was it brilliant?

Draco: …It was okay. I’d mostly use it to trouble the peacocks - I’d chase them.

Harry: *laughing* Didn’t you fly around indoors and terrify all the house elves?

Draco: I did once but Mother threatened to lock my broom away so…

Harry: Didn’t you used to have a Crup?

Draco: Yes, Gumpy. He died when I was seven, actually… *stricken* I think that’s why Father bought me the broom, because I was distraught. 

Harry: …You named your Crup ‘Gumpy’?

Draco: I named him when I was four and couldn’t say ‘grumpy’ properly! He was a grouchy old thing!

Harry: …I want to squash you and never let go.


This is hyacinth :) she wants to tell Gumpy and the Stickies that they are her favorite tumblr. She is molting *and* brooding right now, so she’s very itchy and is making a beautiful bed out of scrap paper. She sends the stickies all the birb kisses and nibbles.

Hello Hyacinth! 😊🐸😊

What a lovely name for a lovely bird! Gumby thinks your jacket is very beautiful (even if you are still working on it!), she especially likes your pretty blue bottom feathers! 😀

Gumby also says congratulations on your magnificent paper-nest! 😊🐸 

Bumblebees have antlers, right?

“What do you think?” Lily asked, holding up Harry for James to see.

James scrunched his nose up, “Why does he look like that?”

Rolling her eyes, Lily answered, “It’s his costume.”

“For what?” James asked incredulously.

“For Halloween, dummy.”

Frowning, James argued, “Lils, he’s 15 months old. Even if we weren’t on house arrest, he couldn’t go trick-or-treating, and he’s never going to remember this.”

“So?” she challenged, bringing Harry back to her chest and making cooing noises as she flopped down onto the couch in the empty space next to James.


“James,” she answered back in the same tone he had used.

Sighing in defeat, he said, “Alright, fine, show me his costume.”

Lily smiled brightly, pleased to have her way and propped up Harry in her lap so he was sitting facing his dad.

“Daddy daddy,” Harry said, holding out his little chubby arms trying to reach for James.

James smiled, immediately reaching out and picking up his son to put in his lap, “So, let’s see what this is all about.”

James looked and his son up and down, getting a good look at how he was dressed.

“What’s he supposed to be?” he asked.

“A bumblebee,” Lily answered with a huff, standing up and patting some imaginary dust off of her lap.

“A bumble – Why on earth would you think a bumblebee is a good idea?”

“It’s cute!” Lily said with a scowl.

“Coot!” Harry yelled in between them.

“Aw, c’mon, did you have to teach him to say cute?”

“I didn’t teach him to say anything,” Lily huffed, pulling Harry out of James’ arms and back into her own, “He mimics everything. You know that. And you,” she turned her attention onto Harry, “you don’t listen to your grumpy daddy. You look perfect.”

“Gumpy Daddy,” Harry mimicked.

“Yes, that’s right! Daddy is pretty grumpy today, isn’t he?”

“Okay, okay,” James said holding his hands up in a defensive position, “I get it, I’m not getting into the Holiday spirit as I should.”

He jumped up off of the couch and wrapped his arms around his wife with Harry in between them, kissing the side of her neck and whispering in her ear, “From now on, I’ll be completely on board with anything you want to do.”

Lily hummed as James began to sway with her in his arms to music that didn’t exist. She breathed into the embrace, grateful to just have a moment when she heard James mutter something under her breath,

Suspicious, she pulled back and asked, “What did you just –.”

She stopped mid-sentence when she looked down at Harry. He was still in his bee costume with the black and yellow stripes and the wings sticking out of the back. However, instead of the antennas that were sticking out on the top of his head, he now had a pair of antlers.

“James,” she growled out warningly.

“It looks so much better now,” James tried to argue.

“Change it back,” she ordered him.

“I mean, stags are way better than bees anyway.”

“James, now.”

“If you’re dressing up as an animal, a stag is the way to go.”

James,” Lily emphasized his name, glaring in his direction for messing up her son’s costume.

“You can change it back yourself,” he suggested, “You have a wand.”

“I’m not as good at Transfiguration as you are,” she huffed, fighting a squirmy Harry who was desperately trying to get down.

She put him down on the ground and he waddled over to James who was waiting for him.

“What do you think, Harry?” James asked as Harry ran barreling into him, “Do you like the new addition to your costume. Do you think it’s cool?”

“Yeah! Cool!” Harry said, laughing when James blew a raspberry on his cheek.

“You heard the man!” he announced to Lily, “The antlers stay!”

Lily rolled her eyes again, trying to fight a smile from seeing the man she loved playing with their son, “I can see when I’ve been beat. The antlers stay. For now.”

James saluted his wife with a cheeky smile and crouched down again where Harry was pulling on the bottom of his robes.

“What’s up, kid?” James asked his son.

“Pway, daddy,” Harry demanded.

“You want me to play with you?” he confirmed, glancing up at Lily who nodded that he’d translated his son’s English correctly.

“Yeah!” Harry shouted out, clapping his hands together.

“Alright then, what should we so?” James hummed to himself, “we could play a game, or fly on your broom, or read a book.”

“Magic!” Harry insisted, tugging on his dad’s clothes.

“You want to see your dad so some magic?” James clarified.


“Well then, what are we waiting for?” James asked excitedly, scooping up his giggling son into his arms and racing back into the living room with the couch.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Lily muttered under her breath, before shouting out, “Be careful!”

“I’m always careful!” James yelled back confidently before a loud THUD was heard followed by a, “Bloody Heyy Harry!”

Hearing Harry’s laughter and figuring they were okay, Lily left the hallway towards the kitchen to bake a fall treat for them to have before Harry was put down for bed that night.

And next year, she vowed that Harry would have the chance to go out on Halloween – war or not.

The signs as Gavin Free insults

Aries - Mungy Smegpot
Taurus - Absolute Sausage
Gemini - Muggy Little Git
Cancer - Douchey Prick
Leo - Bloody Idiot
Virgo - Pissy Little Knob
Libra - Buggy Anus
Scorpio - Toppy Little Spap
Sagittarius - Wallar Mugget
Capricorn - Jammy Bitch
Aquarius - Gumpy Little Geck
Pisces - Biffy Minge

Imagine your OCs

your most serious/gumpy OC (probably with a horrible backstory) edition

-getting scared by the toaster

-turning a song up REALLY LOUD because everyone hates it including them but they must piss everyone off

-falling flat on their face

-showing the face of pure condensed hatred and rage every time someone takes a picture of them

-being forced to wear something cutesy

-OTP BONUS- pretending to be embarrassed by person B showing affection but is secretly really happy

-grumpy/serious OC gets miniaturized, and sits in other OC’s pocket/shoulder all day making salty/sarcastic comments and swearing loudly whenever the person they are riding makes a sudden movement

-crying. (that’s it. just crying)

-grumpy/serious OC freaking out because they are really high up/surrounded by bugs/facing a stupid fear

-OTP BONUS- (or platonic) Person A looks 1000% done as they are being dragged around by Person B through a store/comic con/something exciting for them when actually they feel all warm inside because person B is so happy

-having an adorable sneeze

-OTP BONUS- stubbing their toe and person B looks absolutely horrified at grumpy OC as they swear like a sailor at the top of their lungs

-Being really picky/OCD and having to have everything be perfectly clean and in order and losing their mind because another OC moved something of theirs

-whispering “I hate you” all in public and making another OC laugh

-being turned into a cat

-OTP BONUS- Person B comes in to their room/house/apartment and finds them looking really sad and it scares them so much because they’ve never seen person A willingly show emotions before and person A just stands up, and without looking at them in the eye holds their arms open wide for a hug

-giving another OC the murderer look while being in a ball pit

-OTP BONUS- being sick and person B must take care of grumpy OC, who is muttering swear words under their breath, and shoving away all medicine/soup/blanket/affection. Person B simply smiles, pats their head lovingly and continues to care for them

-OTP BONUS- Grumpy OC (who hates physical contact) suddenly gets really cuddly/affectionate/needy when sick. Grumpy OC is still in the friend zone/beginning phase of their relationship with person B, and yet person B is the only one who is around to care for them

-having to go to the bathroom really really badly

-OTP BONUS- (or platonic) Person B is shopping and taking forever. Grumpy OC is standing absolutely still, staring at a shelf of products, and fuming silently. Person B, after a long while of looking at two products, asks “should i get the X one or the Y one?” and Grumpy OC just grabs the top shelf, and dragging all the products down with them yells “III DOOON”TT CAAAREEE”

-being caught singing in the shower

phantastic-times  asked:

Do you have any ice skating Enorace headcanons? 💖


-Horace is a fucking goddess on ice 

-while Enoch.. not so much

-Enoch barely even set foot on the ice and he managed to fall a total of 4 times 

-so he stood hugging the wall like a wet gumpy puppy until Horace stopped showing off with all his twirls and twists and whatnot

-Horace found it hilarious while of course Enoch did not

-’cheer up, love!’ ‘ i will not.’ 

-Horace finally skid over and grabbed Enoch by his frozen hand and held him tight, for Enoch was very wobbly on his two left feet.

-After a while of Horace leading Enoch around, he became more comfortable on the ice and they were skating in a perfect little rhythm.  

-Horace tried to help Enoch skate on his own, ‘hold your hands out like so.’ he stuck his arms out to the side, ‘to keep your balance.’

-Enoch stuck his arms out and then proceeded to fall flat on his face. 

-So for the remainder of the night Enoch clung to Horace’s arm as they skated together, giving the occasional shy smile in Horace’s direction.

The most romantic thing I’ve ever read is still the scene in @wordswehavesaidworld‘s Partners, with the microwave. 

I can’t describe it. The way the whole thing is set up. In an earlier chapter, after a small tiff between Barry and Oliver, Barry and Diggle buy Oliver some Big Belly Burger while he’s vigilante-ing, and when he comes back, it’s cold. Barry suggests that they should get a microwave for the foundry, an idea that Oliver doesn’t seem that into.

Fast forward many chapters later - Barry has been drugged by The Big Bad and falls asleep in the Foundry after asking for some food (Big Belly Burger, duh). When he wakes up, he makes a comment about how it’s probably cold, and OLIVER. GOD. OLIVER TAKES THE FOOD AND IS LIKE “NO PROBLEM” AND THEN WALKS UP TO THE MICROWAVE HE’S GOTTEN FOR BARRY.


I’ve read many a novel with dying for each other and killing for each other and death-ing for each other, but a gumpy man getting someone a microwave was the one act that brought me to tears.

Derek- Mistletoe

Request- I love your writing and I was wondering if you would write Derek Hale x female human reader where she is the same age as him with #14 and #4 please?

A/N- Thanks hun! Here you go. Next up is a Scott imagine.

You let out a huff as you darted around a pair of drunk girls practically falling all over each other as they passed you. They had almost walked right into you, not even caring that they were about to mow you over. You gritted your teeth as you backed away, thinking that maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to help Lydia with her Christmas party. Music thumped throughout the house as you examined a few pictures of Lydia and her mom on the wall.
You rolled your eyes when you saw that a few of them even included Prada, Lydia’s dog, but you weren’t surprised. You knew how much she loved Prada, as tiny and annoying as she was. You were a lot older than Lydia, far from high school age, but she might have been your best friend.
All the supernatural hell had brought you closer with Scott and the rest his pack, not to mention a certain sourwolf. Being the only person in the pack that was Derek’s age meant you were bound to be friends, but you had actually bonded over so many other things. You wished he was there as you stared out at the flow of the party, getting a little sick of all the drunk high schoolers.
Speaking of drunk high schoolers, it appeared that leaning against the wall did nothing to stop you from being bumped into. You had been examining the pictures Lydia had hanging on the wall when someone slammed into you, causing the drink in your hand to fall and splash all over the carpet.
You let out an annoyed noise and looked up to see Stiles looking over at you with a goofy smile on his face.
“Y/n!” he cried. “I didn’t know you’d be here!”
“Surprise,” you said aloofly.
“Aw, you’re gumpy, aren’t you?” Stiles asked as he made a pouting face.
You rolled your eyes. “No.”
“Yes, you are,” he singsonged. “Is it cause Derek isn’t here? You’re always grumpy when you’re not around him, and he’s always grumpy when he’s not around you. So, weird, right?”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, weird.”
“You don’t have to be grumpy,” Stiles said. “You really don’t. You should just tell him that you care. ‘Cause not lots of people do, y'know?”
You bristled, wondering how Stiles of all people had picked up on your feelings, especially since he was drunk off his ass at the moment. You figured he would be going to find Lydia or Malia, but yet here he was, trying to strike up a conversation about your love life.
“How much have you had to drink, Stiles?” you asked him pointedly.
“Two,” he answered instantly.
“Two cups?” you asked, nodding to your own drink on the floor.
“Bottles,” he said with a laugh that sounded an awful lot like a hiccup.
“Christ,” you muttered. “Where the hell does Lydia get all this alcohol?”
Stiles gave you a goofy shrug, and stumbled forward to bring you into a tight hug. You froze for a moment, but then you simply rolled your eyes and patted him on the back.
“I’ll go find Lydia, okay, Stiles?” you told him. “Stay right here.”
“Pssh, she’s probably with Parrish,” he mumbled.
“Parrish?” you asked with wide eyes. “The cops are here?
"Came here for a noise complaint,” he informed you. “Like an hour ago.”
“And they’re still here?” you asked.
Stiles nodded, and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Leave it to Lydia to charm a cop into not busting a party where underage drinking was painfully obvious in every room. You sighed, knowing Stiles was probably right. If Lydia was with Parrish, you wouldn’t be able to find her anytime soon.
“Alright,” you told him. “I’ll just go find Scott then. I’m pretty sure he won’t be drunk…or charming the pants off of a deputy.”
You looked back at Stiles, telling him to stay there one last time before heading towards the living room. You walked down the hall, peering at the different groups of sweaty, drunk kids and wishing it wasn’t so warm in Lydia’s house. You tugged lightly at your shirt and rounded the corner, just in time to be slammed into by a group of drunk lacrosse players.
You fell back, wondering why no one at this party was watching where they were going when a strong arm suddenly wrapped around your waist to steady you. You looked up to find Derek staring down at you, one eyebrow raised in concern.
He had been leaning against the door frame and trying to ignore the drunk idiots to his left when he suddenly spotted you. His breath had immediately caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you, dressed in the sleek dress you had picked out for this party. He had been just about to call out to you when one of the teenagers bumped into you, causing you to almost fall on your ass.
“You alright?”
You nodded. “Just some stupid kids. Have you seen Scott?”
“No,” he told you. “I was kind of looking for you, actually.”
“Oh,” you said. “Good, because I need to talk to someone over the age of seventeen.”
“That’s a philosophy you could always live by if you wanted to,” he informed you.
“And be a hermit like you?” you asked playfully. “Living all alone in abandoned buildings?”
“I live in a loft now, thank you very much.”
Derek smiled, and you were just admiring the rare sight when an interesting thought crossed through your mind. “Wait, why are you here? Not that I’m complaining, it’s just that I didn’t think you would accept Lydia’s invitation.”
“Well I wouldn’t have,” he said evenly. “But she might have told me you would be here.”
You tilted your head, all too aware of the fact that his arm was still wrapped around you. You hated the way your heart fluttered at his words, knowing he probably didn’t mean them the way you were hoping he did. You brushed it off, shyly looking anywhere but his beautiful green eyes.
You ended up focusing above you, and what you saw made your breath catch in your throat. Derek definitely noticed, and his eyes followed yours to the green object hanging above the doorway.
“Mistletoe,” he remarked, looking back down at you.
“Yeah,” you said nervously. “You know that means we have to-”
“I know what it means,” he cut you off. “I haven’t been totally cut off from society all these years. Besides, we don’t actually have to do it.”
“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. “Yeah, you’re r-”
Derek suddenly leaned forward, closing the little distance between you with his lips. The arm that had been casually resting around your waist tugged you closer, pulling you up against him as your fingers moved up to grab the fabric of his jacket. All the noise from the party seemed to be fading out, and it felt like the thumping music and laughing guests were worlds away.
Derek’s lips moved against yours, and it was like you were completely cut off from everything else. Not that you were complaining, because this had been something you had been waiting years for. You and Derek had practically been thrown together, but over the years you had grown to love him. You had never been able to tell whether he felt the same but there, right then, you finally knew.
He pulled away reluctantly, as if he was regretting having to come up for air. He smiled down at you softly and you felt your heart give an involuntary flutter.
“I said we didn’t have to, not that I didn’t want to,” he murmured.
You smiled, opening your mouth to respond when you heard a slow clap ring out from behind you. Stiles was standing there, a goofy smile plastered across his face as he stared at you and Derek. You raised your eyebrows at him.
“I thought I told you to stay where you were,” you reminded him.
Stiles shrugged. “I got bored. But I was so right. You and Derek are making out. I don’t know why you aren’t dating…are you dating?”
You didn’t exactly know what to say, so you were silent, but Stiles decided to take that as a yes. He leaned forward, pulling you right out of Derek’s arms and into his. “M'so happy for you dudes. You should just come out and say you’re dating. S'not a secret anymore.”
“Uh, Stiles, I didn’t say-”
“Yes, we’re dating,” Derek snarled, shoving Stiles off of you and pulling you back into his arms. “Now go find Scott before I rip your throat out.”
Drunk Stiles was apparently fearless, because he just let out a bubbly laugh and punched Derek in the shoulder. Derek glared at the seemingly oblivious boy as he walked off, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he disappeared into the hall.
“Dating?” you questioned as you turned back to Derek.
Your eyes widened as Derek blushed, something you had seen him do only once or twice before.
“Sorry,” he apologized as he looked at the floor. “I didn’t mean to tell him-”
“Hey,” you said softly, placing your fingers on his cheek and tilting it towards you. “I didn’t say I didn’t want you to.”
Derek’s eyes got brighter all of a sudden, and he looked at you with a smile on his face. He reached for you again, pulling your lips back onto his as the party carried on around you. At this point you honestly couldn’t remember why you had agreed to come to Lydia’s party, but you certainly didn’t regret it anymore. Maybe you had been pushed and shoved by a few drunk teenagers and ditched by Lydia for a hot cop, but you figured that was a small price to pay for finally being with Derek.