Rumpus-Dumpus

sketch dump (#rumpndump for art)

[rumpndump]

COMMISIONS OPEN! If have any questions or are interested, send me a message! 

I am friendly to many types of requests, including: 

Fantasy and DnD Characters

Furries and Fursonas

Original and Fan Characters 

Caricature Portraits

Icons and Personalized Buttons +

Please message me if you have the time and money to spare! Thank you! 

- Rum

[rumrumaway]

It’s my birthday, happy birthday me

[rumrumaway]

You may know me as Rum

But in the real life world, I am actually Piglet

Hello

[duckdean]

You have my heart you brave bag of courage -Rum

and you have mine❤️

[rumrumaway]

Well, now I feel warm inside, thank. 

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I did a thing with my hair a week ago

[rumrumaway]

I know I don't post much anymore.

I've been having a really rough time with life-related stuff, but! BUT! I'm alright.

Thank you for the messages and voicing your concerns, and I promise things are alright.

I plan on updating some fics and posting new stuff soon! So, thank you for being here and being patient. (:

- Rum

[rumrumaway]

You doing alright? If not hope your days get better. If you are I hope your happiness continues!

I’m doing just fine! (^ u ^ ; ) Thank you so much for asking! 

I’ve been working a lot and making a lot of monz, but I’ve also been working on a lot of my personal projects in my free-time. (: I may share them on a separate account for writing-based things. 

[rumrumaway]

Happy Halloween!

Im thottin it up!

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Snapchat has finally done the greatest thing ever. I can annoy my cat with my love and selfies, more than what I have done before.

[todbit]

some random flesh curtains rick scribbles bc i haven’t posted anything in a while :^))

[rumrumaway]

HHHHHHH

[rumrumaway]

Don’t Feed Morty

Something for @a-pickle-and-a-yellow-shirt, who gave me complete control over their Morty OC. Thank you so much for allowing me to freestyle this story, and give your character life! I really hope I did him justice for you!  

RATING: Mature  PROLOGUE

Yet again, he stood there, yellow shirt reduced to tattered rags of red stains, and vestigial smile planted gently on his lips as he stared up at Daycare Rick with remorse. And again... Rick simply stared with an all-too-familiar repentant, yet equally rudimentary flummox expression.

Once more, this Morty had been returned--alone. Having been in and out of this halfway-house since Ricks opened up the blasted daycare, it was never abnormal to be returned the same Morty more than once--but this one... this Morty seemed to have... bad luck with their Ricks.  Never once had he been formally returned by the adopting-Rick. Instead, it had always been by a team of Morty Catchers, and so often that Rick knew this Morty’s dimension by heart: B-173. And each time he, B-173, was returned, the report read something along the lines of: found wandering alone, Rick [Dimension-#] missing.  In layman’s terms, the adopting-Rick was never found.  While Rick would like to believe it was merely a string of bad luck, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew otherwise. It was that gut-twisting sensation that told him something was wrong. This Morty was wrong. 

Staring down at the young boy, who only gleamed back a soulless expression of woe, Rick couldn’t help but pocket the thought later for rumination. There was no sense in keeping the young boy bundled up like this, wrapped up in a trauma-blanket and waiting quietly for the usual habits. 

“No this one either, huh?” he asked, impartial to response. Morty simply shook his head and stepped closer to him, Rick sighing softly as he scratched the back of his head and watched the thin frame wander in.  “Well,” he grumbled, “don’t get your filthy-self on me, there’s no telling what the bastard and you got into before he bit the dust.” Though there isn’t much this Rick had yet to be exposed to. He’s seen just about everything: the good, the bad, the ugly--the unthinkable. Even so, he wouldn’t want to get too comfortable around this Morty. Although he acted like any other yellow-shirt brat would, something about him just felt... off. 

“Grandpa Rick?” Morty piped up. His voice was dry and airy, as though he were parched. Rick twitched at the words coming out of the boy’s mouth, “uh... I-I know you’re not really my grandpa, but-” 

“You’re right, I’m not--at least, not your grandpa. So, just- just call me Rick.”

“Right,” he hesitantly looked away before asking, “do you... do you think I’ll ever find my own Rick?” 

“...” a question for another time, he thought to himself. “Sure, buddy--y-yeah. But- but, they won’t want to find- find- urp, find you wearing those gross things,” Rick pointed down to the boys clothing (or, lack thereof). Morty frowned as he looked down at himself, not quite realizing just how much of a mess he was before Rick said something.   “Come on,” he said as he got up from his chair. Rick stretched out and yawned, feeling a strong wave of drear cross him. “Let’s, uh... let’s go get you cleaned up, before- urp, before the council sees you or something.” And, much like a lost puppy, Morty followed behind, quietly and shamefully carrying his head low. 

As Morty tailed behind the familiar Rick, he glanced out to yard of Mortys roaming around outside and playing. Most seemed carefree in their antics, ambitious and waiting for another Rick to take them home; others appeared anxious and unwilling, dreading for Ricks to pick them. This Morty, B-173, fell somewhere on the scale towards ambitious. Whoever his next Rick is, he’s sure will be the one. The Rick that keeps him forever--maybe they will be his Rick. 

Though the shack looked small, it was actually quite spacious. 

Just below the layout of the citadel, sectors of rooms were created specifically to care for the well-being of every Morty. No matter how much Ricks may not have cared for the counterpart-M’s, they were no use to them dead.  So, beneath the makeshift shack and electric fence, tunnels and segues connected nearly each individual business. This was done solely to keep the fun illusion of games just above entertaining and distracting. Just below the Daycare’s shack, rooms and bathrooms lined up like dormitories for the abundance of Mortys. Perhaps not too far off followed a cafeteria, and somewhere in the back, there may have been a curt walk to the doctor’s, but Rick never cared much for that old quack. 

As they came upon the first set of dorms, Rick glanced back to the frail Morty and said, “you know what to do. I’ll leave- leave you a change of clothes just across the hall--don’t take too long. You- urp, you know where to find me.” With that, he turned on his heels and left, waving his hand ‘bye’ as he b-lined straight for the stairs. There was likely a Rick waiting for him to return, who waited two-minutes too long to check out a new Morty. The thought made him groan as he began to leave Morty behind- 

“Grandpa Rick?” Morty called as Rick stopped midway down the hall. Rick felt a chill run up his spine at the sound of Morty’s voice. Something about it still felt ghostly and distant to him.  He looked behind himself to the Morty who stood in the center of the hall, unmoved and still. Morty looked back at him, eyes wide as he looked up to the taller man, thin frame shedding the blanket and leaving it to pool around his feet. Naught about him was intimidating, in fact he looked borderline-starved. Yet, the pull of his tired eyes and beady stare shocked Rick a certain way. The spacious stare of hungry eyes spied at him with curiosity, and his mouth fell open to let haunting words echo from his mouth. 

“I’m hungry.” 

[duckdean]

I love your art sooo much. I’m not even joking, i started doing art because of you. I just love it soo much, I loved to draw when I was little but I guess I got sidetracked by all the essays I have to write. But it would mean a lot to me if you draw Miami rick and flesh curtains rick holding hands. While Miami is blushing madly. Thank you so much! I hope you have a great summer!. :)

yooo thank you so much for this message!! I really hope you like this lil thing I did for ya, sorry if I took too long though haha. anyways, there’s a lot more of this pair coming since there’s a lot of asks requesting them!

[rumrumaway]

art of this exists now?! im in fucking love

[rumrumaway]

You’re Doofus Rick and Diane one is my favorite one shot (at least it’s a one shot so far) And my favorite series that’s going on is Miami and Flesh Also not a fic but you’re elf boys are amazing too

I plan to continue Doofus Rick/Diana, bUT THANK AND THANK ABOUT MIAMI/FLESH–I DON’T REALLY KNOW WHERE I’M GOING WITH IT BUT I’M GLAD YOU LIKE IT AND THANK YOU SO MUCH, I’VE BEEN PLANNING ON WRITING OUT THE ALPHA-9 SERIES SERIES TOO–BUT I’M SUCH A PERFECTIONIST SO I ALWAYS THINK I CAN WRITE IT BETTER WHEN I DO WRITE- 

JUST-

A;LSKDJAGA T H A N K  Y O U  B E A N ! ! ! 

[rumrumaway]

YOUR STORIES ARE AMAZING!!! AHHHH

I’M REALLY GLAD YOU THINK SO OMGOODNESS <3

[rumrumaway]

Can there be a part 4 of flesh and Miami? I really miss those boi’s. I want them to have a great time ❤️

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted anything, and for that I’ll write two follow ups to the story ; w ; Thank you for being so patient. 

This one is a little short and dreary, but I hope that’s okay!!

PAIRING: Flesh/MiamiRATING: Mature (No NSFW)Part One | Part Two | Part Three | [HERE]

Not much time had passed between their first encounter to now - perhaps two or three years at best; yet, here he found himself now, back at square-one all over again. The much deflated Rick, the one that tried to be different, drank himself away at the bar–grimacing as memories surfaced to the forefront of his mind. Against himself, a faint smirk touched his lips, even as he glared down at the familiar amber cup. Can he really say he was different after all? 

Fuck no.

He was just the same as the rest of them–a Rick who left after every argument; who resided at this damned citadel, all for the cliche routine of drinking alone. The only difference between then and now was one certainty on his mind: he wasn’t going home. Ever.But this thought only prompted him to chug a little more, a little quicker, a little longer. Maybe if he drank fast enough, the knot welding in his throat would be swallowed with the rest; the feelings wallowing within him would eventually ebb away.Yet, to any other Rick, he was simply doing was Ricks did best–escaping. 

To him, the only real difference between him and the rest of them, is that he still loved his Diane and Beth. Initially, he had never planned on leaving them behind by any means, but the more Diane pushed for Rick to step off the sci-fi antics, the more the impending reality set upon him that she would only hold him back. Or maybe… maybe that’s the excuse he settled with on, feeling how it unraveled the twist of his stomach. Before long, however, Rick found himself drowning well past his fourth glass, and raised an empty piece to the bartender–who only rolled his eyes in response. Of course he would, thought Rick, he was nothing more than a disgusting reflection of his alcoholism; another coward in the making. Life gets too hard, and what did he do? He ran. 

Rick’s eyes climbed the wall of booze decorating the bar, which seemed to then stop and linger on the flickering pink and blue lights of a sign which gleamed ‘Drink’ at him. His lingering gaze became a cold hard glare, feeling as though it taunted him; as though it was silently aware of his current state of turmoil.Without any thought, he laid his head down in the crook of his arm on the bar, growling under his breath as he tried to smother away the sensation of guilt nagging at him. In the black of his hiding, Rick felt the gentle draft of dreary sleep coax him forward, even as the cold brush of another drink was slid into his hand. When he pulled himself up, long enough to let golden eyes glare at the full glass, he heard a familiar echo of himself call out with some teasing glee. 

“Didn’t I tell you once before, R&R? I don’t like party-poopers.” 

The vibrant crack of a graveled voice scraped his ears, making him cringe–shoulders visibly tensing as he ducked his head down once again. Then, the claps of a warm hand grasped his shoulder and tugged him upwards from the face of the bar, which he didn’t fight. Though he was pulled up, his eyes remained low, tracing the edges of his fingers that wrapped so neatly around the curve of the glass.“Yeah,” he huffed a bit irritably. The other man stopped, raising a brow at him with interest, gentle smirk remaining lax on his expression. Rick watched the dribble of booze slide down the side of his glass, “it’s, i-it’s been a hot minute. How’d ya’ know?” 

“One sore Ri-urp, one sore Rick out of a sea of ricks isn’t hard to-, to,” he burped, “to pinpoint.” He pulled the dismal man off of his seat, tugging gingerly on the man’s shoulder and saying, “you should- should, urp, should come with me back to my- my, uh… back upstairs.” He then motioned with his thumb behind him, offering a sly of a smile and burnt out hiccup, “y-ya’ know, like old times.” 

It was then that Rick stopped, eyes finally dragging from the glass to the floor, and climb up the brightly colored Rick before him. Not much had changed, since their last meeting; albeit, the man was clearly drunk, buzzing off of the lost-numbered shot he had before coming here. But, he was still the same old fruit basket of a club owner he knew him to be–likely coked out and hiding it from behind those stupid shades of his.Even so, Rick couldn’t help his mind drift back to those ‘old times’ the other spoke of, recalling how hazy the memory was that night. He glared at him, uncertain but not unwilling.

As the other began making his way towards the familiar door out of the bar, Rick in tow, he couldn’t help but feel as though he slipped into a vat of déjà vu. His fingers clung tightly around the glass, refusing to let go of the cold brew–hopefully as reminder that he was still in present times. 

“Come on, Nirvana,” hiccuped the other, “we gotta- we got a lot to catch up on.” 

[rumrumaway]

Caption: Explaining My Hero Academia

Also, this is what it’s like being my friend: I give you live updates about shit I watch. Ask @alec-unshaded.

[rumrumaway]

Would you ship Flesh and zero? I’d like to hear your opinion about it

Would I ship it? It’s not entirely my cup of tea, but it can has potential. 

I’ve never really understood how the ship came about, but I’m not opposed to it. Some artists/writers make it work really well, and some if it’s just kind of a stretch. 

I could play around with an idea or two about the pair, though. :b