I see a few people still struggling with the whole ‘getting rid of the grey box’ process, so I’m going to try and make it really simple for those of you who are interested!
Once you’ve uploaded your GIF/or icon, you want to click on the <html> button on the top right hand corner and find the code to your GIF/icon which should look like this-
Now what you want to do is insert a 31. in front of the media, and an s after the http, like this -
((Thank you tumblr for making the site even more less user-friendly.))
You could feel each kiss he placed upon you—well, of course you could feel them, but it was a different kind of sensation. It was as if every time he pecked around your face, he placed something there would be left over and buzz in the small spot for a moment after. Was that just him though? Always leaving an impression on you physically and mentally in every way he could.
You really are squirming from under him, but it’s not because you want to be released—it’s the farthest thing from it. You just couldn’t keep yourself still, because of how hard your heart was racing. You may have thought that he made your heart beat so fast you’d die before? Well it turned out that was just a warm up for this. Every stroke his his hand made you wither again him—it broke you down further and further in becoming his more and more. You had your hands on his chest from under his shirt still, but you had a hard time moving them about to learn his figure like you had wanted to. It wasn’t fair that he’d know you and you couldn’t know him.
Maybe it just wasn’t you and your anxiety that was holding you from acting, but your arms were also being forced in a certain direction, away from him, as you realized he had managed to pull your shirt from you only from the sound of it hitting the floor. You were in such a sweat, that you didn’t even feel a chill from the air. “Wh—” you looked up at him with a bit of a wide gaze. You felt confused; maybe awe struck that he had just done that, because what did that mean? Was this … actually happening? Just … how many inches of your body did he want to claim with his lips? How would you be able to not go insane if he kept touching and kissing you in places other than your face!? So your heart was racing? Well now your mind was too with a million and one possible outcomes of this, all of them which didn’t spare your body from drawing an arousal.
At feeling this, you close your eyes tightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice, and curse under your breath, but the whisper is quickly dominated by a savory short wail when your brother’s teeth softly strike your skin. Hastily your throw one hand over your mouth in embarrassment, but that’s self-mutilation as your lips crave to be busy with him.
You force yourself to open your eyes as you know your cheeks are burning so bright, that it’s probably glowing in the dark. You take a quick breath as you grasp at the edges of his shirt, trying to remove it from him the same flawless way he had done to you, but your hands are shaking way too much, and well … you’re not a dumb jock who is good at every physical activity. You’re the angsty art-student in the corner with thoughts and things in your head that you can only paint—and hell, you sure did have a lot of thoughts and things in your head that you wanted to paint upon Kenneth Vantas. He’d be your perfect canvas. Now if only you could hold the brush still.
Your eyes scan him over like they are chasing over gold mines, your breath is uneven like you’re riding the after shock of standing between raindrops. There’s no one but you and him, right here and right now. You’re kissing him hard, like there’s nothing left to lose—and true enough, there isn’t. He’s the only fragment left in your life that you’re holding onto, sharing it’s glow and claiming it as your last source of life and power. Without it, you’re lost, hopeless, and nothing but a buggin’ shuck face without heart.
You refuse to let his hands take off your shirt, because you’re a mystery that won’t be easy for him to solve. You’ll get to know him, but he won’t get to know you. That’s a douchey move, but perhaps it’s the way you’re so unpredictable that he comes after you. So even as he breaks a gasp, and you can feel what he’s trying to hide, you’re still there—not because he’s unpredictable, but because he’s predictable. Purposely, you shift back, so you’re able to barely settle between his legs since he’s making it hard for you to keep your sit up by constantly pulling at your shirt. So now, with your elbows by his side you can lean down to cup his face however you liked. Dragging your teeth from the edge of his jaw, across the vampire bridge, and then nipping at his flesh where his collar bone is. Your teeth hit against his skin, biting making sure you’re marking him in some way.
It’s funny how both of you love eachother so much, but are always too afraid to say it. This possible started that day—when he blankly kept walking towards the deepest pit around, following Love’s dizzy finger. You spotted him, knew where he was going, and tried to stop him… only to be taken a hold of by him, and then the both of you took the free fall together.
Missing him was dark and grey, and you felt so alone with nothing but coldness forcing you to adapt it. Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you’ve never met, trying to comprehend feelings you’ve never noticed. Touching him is like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you. Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song that you would play on your guitar. Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there’s no right answer. Walking away from him was like losing a part of your organ, and feeling the emptiness swallow at you.
But loving him was electrifying—it was like driving Portia’s SUV down a dead end street, faster than the wind, smoother than the surface of your cheeks.
He’s burning, quite literally because even you can feel it. You slowly release his skin, and curiously poke your head to his side in wonderment. He looked intriguing even in this state… blinking, you crack a smile you hope he doesn’t see, and lean forward to peck his cheek while brushing away a few strands of his hair. You match the red on his face then as you feel his lower section press up against you more firmly, and even you, the arrogant Kenneth Vantas, can’t hide your shyness from that. There was an attempt to shift back and end what you were getting yourself into, but…
You pushed too deep, and got what you were asking for. You fell right into the desire. This love is insanity.
I wanted to draw clothes, so I drew my oc Rick with his younger sister Lea, since I am very fond of Rick’s clothing style and wanted to draw Lea for a while.
Rick tends to pick Lea up from the
elementaryschool, because their mother comes back home from work way too late. And yes, there are little butts in Lea’s class who are teasing her. rick wants really bad to kick their little butts but they are children>:C
edit: or wait. I am not sure..how does the education system works in your country? since she’s 11 I think she might be in a middle schooler at this point, right? I think I messed something up again
Porrim walked through the science department on her way to her own classroom, to-go cup of tea in hand. This was her only period of the day in which she didn’t have to deal with teenagers who thought they knew everything, and she was going to use her time wisely by downing as much caffeine as possible, especially after that freshman class she just had.
She had stopped at the school’s library upon her return in search of reference books for her students, and now wishes she hadn’t. Partially because she had only found six books which would actually fit with what she was teaching this semester, and partially because the librarian, who was old enough to be her mother and apparently thought that gave her authority over the new teacher, had insisted that the tattoos covering Porrim’s body were inappropriate for a school setting and nearly forced the younger woman to cover herself with her old, worn cardigan.
Said cardigan had almost immediately been shoved into Porrim’s oversized black bag. Not only did it ruin in her jade green blouse and black pencil skirt ensemble, but the new teacher didn’t appreciate being told what to do by someone she saw as her equal. A good portion of her students, at least the ones who delved into underground cultures, were just as pierced and tatted up as she was, and they weren’t told to take out their lip rings for the school day or cover every inch of their bodies lest a bit of ink be seen. Then again, Porrim was no longer a student, which was still taking some getting used to after nearly twenty years of schooling.
The teacher emerges from her thoughts just in time to notice the messy-haired teen leaning against the wall to her left. Raising an eyebrow free of piercings until the end of the day, she asks “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
How long was I flirting with that barista? I’m not going to last long here if I’m late for my own class.
He quickly fixated his gaze to the other side, a bit nervously because he was not entirely keen on revealing the devilish color of his eyes; startling blood red orbs due to the lack of pigment he suffers from. Ken also wasn’t interested in listening to teachers when they made insignificant comments about how messy his dirty blonde hair was—how they naturally were. Girls still chased after him, so that made up for it. His skin was fair, lips an odd shade of petal pink, and had his one single tattoo of the Cancerian symbol imprinted on his collar bone (compared to the the several different ink spots he noticed on the other person) that his open red and white letterman revealed. A golden V was imprinted on the side of his heart, he wore blue jeans, and was an overall neat-enough looking kid.
Briefly, he had been trapped in his own thoughts, almost praying to anything good and holy that the lady passing him wouldn’t give him a second glance and would just go about her business—but of course, she had to notice. She had to call out. Ken restrained himself from having his eyes do a 360 degree’s eye roll, but—one of the things he disliked most was when kids, or just people in general, disrespected someone older than them, someone wiser and more knowledgeable. If he dared say something impolite to the approaching figure, he’d only be a pathetic hypocrite. He stood quiet for a moment, as if contemplating his response, but then finally looked up and situated his glossy optics at the unknown woman, who he assumed was a teacher, after taking quick judgment of her clothes.
At first, he couldn’t decide what to feel about her. With the almost stern expression that she wore, the woman looked smart and classy, perhaps a bit bossy, but her tone represented irritated. He further deduced by knowledge and simple observation, that she was previously irritated, so pushing his luck here wouldn’t do him much good, as much as he would love to be smug with her. He was master in debate and politics—surely he’d get his way around.
“Uh—,” he spoke in a relaxed tone, trailed on absently, and then shifting uncomfortably. A small but teasing smirk grew on his lips then. “Shouldn’t you be in class too?”
[Each tentacle seemed to have a mind of its own. They slithered about, trying to embrace Kankri. It was like they wanted to completely cover him in their slime. They wanted to choke him and squeeze his bones, but it was clear that the troll wasn’t having any of this. You could only wince as you watch this, your stomach acting like an elevator as if it were going up and down. The scary part is you’re not sure what you feel more disturbed at, seeing your matesprit like this, being attacked, or the fact that he appeared like he was really starting to get into this somehow—sickly enjoying fighting this thing. He was pwning it like it was nothing. You had your own share of imp slaughter back in sgrub, where it became a point of you just rolling your eyes as you ran through a field of them with your sickles out, but it was due to that reason that you are not fond of engaging in battles anymore. Fighting could be a lot like getting drunk, really … it may feel good at first, and you may sometimes need it, and conquer the enemy, but do too much of it, get scratched up one too many times? Drink too much soda to the point where you’re puking all night, you never want to even cook with soda ever again. Kankri here? He just seemed to be a true alcoholic.]
[Even as it feels like the ground is cracking from under you in seeing the tentacle roll around his neck, he just seems to … take care of that so easily too!? Your voice was caught in your throat as you didn’t even get a chance to yell his name out again before he was back on his feet. Maybe you would be a lot more impressed with all these moves if you guys had been out in a training ground somewhere and he was doing his usual smug thing in showing off to you, but this felt different. He was … dangerous. You go slightly pale as you can’t help but to wonder what he would have done if his session did not end the way it did. You swallow hard. Why should this realization be making you shake so much? He was the Signless … as much as he would deny it, he would have still grown up to be him in another life.]
K-KANKRI—ARE YOU OK?
[You find yourself asking, even if you can see him clearly still standing. Would he even hear your voice over his guns’ fire? Your eyes slowly go from him to the thing that is now smoking and practically melting into a puddle of golden goo, guts, and who knows what else.]
[More curses emit from under your breath as you just want for this paralyze thing to wear off! Oh god, how you hoped you didn’t need some god damn magical item found of some far off Hello Kitty island in order to get it.]
KANKR, LETS GO!
[You make attempts at reaching for him, and to your dismay, your voice is almost a whine. You were going to have to have a long, serious talk with him after this.]
"You killed my guards."
[A voice said. God.Fucking.Damn.It. Seems you weren’t the only one that wanted to have a long serious talk …]
"That’s a little impressive." he said as he walked out of the smoke that was left over from both the gunfire and the beasts dissolving. It was … that same guy from before! The one who stole that damn DVD! He wasn’t holding the movie anymore though, but rather a sword with a blade that was one color on one side, and then a different one on the other side, "A little. I can’t say they were my best members. Still, I’m disappointed they won’t be with me anymore. I think I could feel better if I had you in pieces though.” his voice was eerily calm.
[You were in front of Karkat, irritated but you tried to keep your face straight and void of any aspect of emotion. This wasn’t over, you know it. Funny, how this was supposed to be just another day at the market with Karkat trying to buy decent stuff and you wailing in the background because you want to go home. If anything, you’re seriously anti-social. This is exactly why you hated going outside where there were living things like trolls and humans. Your past didn’t hold a pretty picture of that, you still felt noxious thinking about it. For now, you held your ground, and kept reminding yourself not to lose yourself.]
[Your scythe rests by your side, the slime that was on you now evaporating into steam, and it’s effects wearing off. You glance back at Karkat to see if he can move yet, but your attention is soon robbed again by the familiar voice of your instigator here—that sandy haired monkey. About time he showed up.]
[You don’t speak a word, but just scan your sight over his weapon again before reconnecting with his optics into a hard stare. It’s taking a lot to keep your anger at pay, but perhaps patience is one of your virtues—assuming you have virtues. You weren’t here to impress him, but rather get at him for pushing your matesprit and stealing the DVD he held, and let’s not get started on the fact that this douche took a move on Karkat. Just the thought of it pops a vein under your flesh. Over all, he caused mayhem to the streets, and despite you not liking people, you still couldn’t tolerate the fact that his monsters probably injured many. It’s a tad bit hard to crawl into his head, even being a Seer, but you never let your guard down. You stood straight, momentarily giving a light nod, but keeping your voice just calm.]
And I am highly c9nvinced that y9u weren’t their fav9rite pers9n t9 6e ar9und. Either way, I highly suggest y9u either hire 6etter c9mrades, 9r take 9ut the guide699k t9 6eing a 6etter leader. N9t that y9u’re qualified t9 6eing a respected 9ne, 6ut it w9n’t hurt s9 much t9 give it a try.
Just give 6ack what y9u t99k.
[You often yelled at Kankri about how he was so nosy when it came to you. You’d point at him and say how he’d have to know every little thing you were doing—when, what, and who … okay, well maybe not ‘who’, because he was the only one you had the horns for. And yet, right now, here you were, trying to tilt your head to the side so you could see what he was looking up on his communicator. You’re just as bad as he is. The two of your are so fucking obsessed with each other, it’s terrible—and that’s why you have been together for so long, hasn’t it? However~ at seeing just *what* he was looking at, you are suddenly not so subtle about attempting to have a peek.]
YOU’RE ACTUALLY LOOKING UP THAT SHIT!? STOP IT!!
[You want to go to try and snatch the device away from him, but he has perfect timing as usual, and he ends up sitting up before you could even take that step forward to attempt to yank his communicator away. It’s also because you’re standing there grinding your teeth with each word that comes from his devil lips. You grumble something under your breath as you rip the bag open and take out the container of sweet and sour sauce and cluckbeast that was for it.]
[You’re silent as you sit down, about four inches between the two of you. Shouldn’t you be snapping at him still? Shouldn’t you be yelling at him and calling him out about what an asshat he is? Of course you should! That’s just the thing though, he knows you too well. He said it himself. You’re usually in a state of embarrassment because of him.]
[You cough once as you look to the side and then casually drop the container of sauce on his lap so it will spill all over him.]
[Another boost of smugness because the way he looks right now is the kind of look that tells you that he doesn’t know what to say, which automatically, according to you, means that you won the match. Satisfied, you lean back on the couch and toss your communicator to the side. It was naturally very amusing to watch him flip out on that, and you had purposely picked up the web to irritate him more.]
[However, as you’re tilting your gaze to the side to fetch him a napkin just for the sake of being friendly again and letting him enjoy his food, you feel a burning sensation on your lap. Of course, it doesn’t come nearly making you shout, but you only wince. Then your attention swings towards what he’s done, and a look of disapproval and vexation crosses your face.]
—-!!! Wh… Thanks, I feel even m9re like a h9t sh9t n9w—and that’s y9ur waste 9f m9ney. Gah, hey! What’d y9u d9 this f9r?!
[Kid’s got spunk, but seriously? He just dumped his food on you, and that obviously means no cupcakes till you’re not pissed off anymore. Carelessly, you dip your hand in the sauce and then just plant your palm against his face, smearing it all over, and then pushing his head back. Then you perk up a forced smirk.]
'Flaimin' h9t', huh. Enjoy eating plain rice, 6rat.
[Then you’re staggering to get to his room for a change of clothes!]
[THAT FUCKER!!! He did it again! He set you up! Sort of … Well, he made it out to sound like he really was concerned for your helth, and that he was giving you an idea, an option, but really? You see now what this is. You knew his love actually did look out for you, but it was slapped in your face that this was not a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer here as to if you wanted to start working out with him or not. Your face becomes flustered both with anger and embarrassment at the things he says. Could he never /not/ stop humiliating you for one god damn second of the day? Or night? Or whenever.]
YEAH … NOW I’M *REALLY* WISHING YOU GOT THOSE DAMN CHIPS SO I CAN RIP THE BAG OPEN AND SHOVE ALL OF THEM DOWN YOUR THROAT AT ONCE IF YOU’RE SO INSISTENT ON BEING A ‘HOT SHOT’, MIGHT AS WELL HAVE SOME ACTUAL HEAT, RIGHT? AND PLEASE, YOU KNOW THAT—
[The door bell chimes, but it’s not that which cuts off your words, it’s the way you had been ever so inadvertently forced to bring yourself to your feet by the way that he decided he wanted to take over the whole couch for himself. What made it even worse was that you had thought he was going to be the one to get up to answer the door, but it turned out that his drift there was just so he could lay down more.]
OH SHUT THE FUCK UP!
[You grab one of the couches pillows and throw it at his face—hard.]
I’LL FUCKING DUMP THAT BOWL ON YOUR HEAD—
[You mumble and rudely swipe at the food from the delivery person, throwing the money at him—not giving. The usual. The door slams then as you kick it close and then go back over to him, dropping the bag down on the little table in front of the couch.]
SO YOU GOING TO SIT THE FUCK UP, OR ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME SIT ON YOU AND EAT?
[Ah, nothing like hearing Karkat get cut off when he’s in between a large wall of capital words, bashing you about how you’re the biggest dickhead in the world. Well, you aren’t objecting to that. The smile on your face only provokes his anger more as he stumbles to his feet. You’re an awful person, always thriving on his negative emotions towards you and tickling them with your finger tips. Gotta’ love your hobbies. You couldn’t help but laugh at his retort on your statement of being a hot shot, though.]
[You go back to meddling with your communicator and turning over so you’re on your stomach while he cusses at you, but you don’t give a care. Your elbows help you sit what little you could—or wanted to, for that matter— and you’re looking up rhinestone bowls on Google +. Good that.]
9h, 9h, make me. Karkat Vantas, h9w many times d9 y9u get y9ur ta6les turned 6y me in a day? I wasn’t j9king when I said I am full 9f surprises! D9n’t feel 6ad, y9u’re usually in a state 9f em6arassment 6ecause 9f me.
[Then he stomps off, and you snicker upon hearing the delivery guy yelp like he just got his balls kicked. You’re humming very contently as he marches back, and by that time, you’ve rolled back on the couch and your eyes are still attracted to the screen.]
Sit 9n me? Y9u w9uld l9ve that, w9uldn’t y9u.
[So, were you joking when you said you exercise by pushing your luck…]
Pfft, y9u d9n’t have en9ugh strentgh t9 push my 6ack, s9 try y9ur luck s9me time else.
[And it’s really perfect how you can totally behave this way towards him too, because after all, you’ve got him in all four quadrants. Top notch, aren’t you. Scoffing at him, you sit up and scoot to the side to allow him space, but victory decorates your face brilliantly. You love teasing him.]
[Your body language is pouting as you are now slumped back with your arms crossed over your chest, and you try not to look at him. The corner of you’re eye gives a twitch as you hear how he says that he’s always keeping track of your health. This really is questionable as to if you’re like a pet or something, or if you’re just on his mind every second of the day to the point where he wants to make sure that you’re okay. Honestly, knowing Kankri, it’s probably a combination of both. He had this strange sort of ownership and dominance over you, and that was because you not only allowed it—but enjoyed it too.]
[Slowly you glance back to him, but your eyelids are narrow slits. So he made sure not to give you too much … okay, maybe it was your fault you were getting a bit out of shape, but still! That’s … that’s not the point. It had to be the stuff he was treating you with, not anything you were were choosing to eat, right! Uhg!]
START PUSHING MY LUCK WITH YOU? AS IF RUNNING A TRILLION MILES A DAY WILL CHANGE THE WAY YOU WAVE A FINGER AT ME. BUT FINE—
[You close your eyes, brow forward.]
I’LL FUCKING JOG WITH YOU. BUT ONLY FOR A LITTLE WHILE, GOT THAT! AND I DON’T WANT YOU ACTING LIKE YOU’RE HOT SHIT AND EVERYTHING, JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN GO FASTER THAN ME WHILE WE’RE OUT.
[You remained quiet after that, thinking to yourself, but you were sure to extend an arm out so when your matesprit leaned back, you’d have it around him. The two of you just lay there silently, enjoying eachother’s presence even though you were poking eachother with sticks while blowing small kisses at eachother with batting eyelashes. At first, you really did love what he said—you have so much control on him. Even with just a wave of a finger. Your turn your head towards his direction and plant a kiss on his cheek.]
Hm, yes. 6ut it’s n9t like I d9 anything y9u d9n’t like in bed—
[Ho ho, are we really going there? You hum calmly, but nod at his agreement.]
A little while? Never asked f9r y9u t9 decide, 6ecause that’s up to me t9 tell y9u. After all, we’re d9ing it t9gether, s9 might as well listen t9 the h9t sh9t here, am I right?
[You have egoistic problems. The door bell rings and your expression contorts into a curious one, then you every so casually push him off the couch and take up the space for yourself, tossing a leg over the other and meddling with your communicator. Snort and grin, naturally.]
6etter practice 6ef9re we get y9u a rhinest9ne 69wl 9r s9mething, yeah? G9 kitty, get y9ur f99d. Heh.