a lighter shade of gray

Help Me Get The Girl Part 6 (Grayson Mini-Series)

Description: Grayson seeks out your help to get your friend to fall for him.  In exchange for your help, Grayson promises to take care of your freshman brother when it comes to being bullied.  What you two didn’t know is that even though helping each other would ideally be beneficial, there would be a series of events that would make you two question whether this was a good deal or a disaster in the making.

Word Count: 2,897

Warnings: Language

A/N: Hello there!  I’m like 10x less sick so I finally got this written!  The two songs mentioned in this part are Tenerife Sea and One by Ed Sheeran.  TWO OF MY FAVORITE SONGS EVER!  I really hope you like this part because it’s a very special one that I have been thinking about for a long time. (not my gif)

Your POV:

My feet felt like they were filled with sand, weighed down to the ground so that I couldn’t move them.  My eyes traveled back and forth from Ethan to Grayson.  Their faces mirror each other, both holding an expression of disbelief. This had seemingly been an unexpected even for all three of us.

My hands reached up to brush lightly against my lips, still unsure if the kiss had actually happened.  Ethan took a small step toward us but quickly changed his mind, an uneasy sigh escaping his lips. This silence was unsettling, it was breathless, it was suffocating.  I wanted to break the ice.  I wanted to end whatever was happening right now.  But I didn’t know what to say, so I spoke the truth.  The brutal, honest truth that I didn’t want to utter.

“This is why I asked you not to touch me.” I forced out.  I blinked back tears as I pushed my way past Ethan without looking back.  My bottom lip was tucked in between my teeth, the pressure almost strong enough to draw blood.  I knew that if I left right now, it would be obvious that something had happened.  I knew that if I stayed it would be awkward for the three of us.  

I chose to stay and try to ignore that the situation even happened.  As I joined the rest of the group, I took my place next to Grace, noticing that my drink was right where Ethan promised it’d be. I reached down for it, my throat had started to feel extremely dry.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Grace was giving me a questioning look, but I ignored it, downing every last bit of the Dr. Pepper that had been poured for me.  For some reason, maybe due to tonight’s events flustering me, I thought it would be alcohol, but it wasn’t—it was a school night.  God, did I wish it was alcohol.

“Dude, are you good?” Grace’s voice brought me back to reality. “I’ve never seen anyone down a soda that fast.” She let out a small, yet uneasy chuckle.

Awkwardly, I set down my cup, plastering a fake smile on my face.  “Yeah, I’m just really thirsty.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Why are your eyes all red?  Were you crying?” her expression changed from humored to concerned in a snap.  “What’s wrong?”

“Oh!” I said much louder than I intended, “I rubbed my eyes and a speck of mascara flaked off my eyelashes and into my eyes.  I kept trying to get it out and by time I finally did my eyes were like waterfalls.  They’re so easily irritated.” I rambled off at a nearly unattainable speed.

Her mouth formed an ‘oh’ and she nodded her head.  “Girl I’ve had that happen.  It’s the worst!” and with that everything turned back to normal.  “Where are Gray and E?  I have something to ask of you guys.”

“We’re right here!” Ethan’s voice caught our attention.  Grayson was trailing behind him, avoiding all eye contact with me.  Ethan took a seat next to me, his hand resting on my thigh, giving me a reassuring squeeze.  I placed my hand on top of his, absentmindedly lacing our fingers together.  Grayson who had taken a seat next to Grace stared at our connected hands, his eyebrows pulled together, his jaw clenched as tight as it could be.

“So what did you need, Grace?” I asked, my eyes focusing back on my friend.

“Okay, so, as you all know, my father has his company’s annual charity ball coming up.” She eyed us with hope.  “And at this ball there is always a dance performed like you know back in the day, all those classical Victorian era moves and shit.”

“Yeah…” I trailed off, “And we all said no to attending already.” I reminded her, knowing exactly where this was going.

She held up her hand to stop me, “Just hear me out.  The performance company set to perform has dropped out due to an overscheduling issue.  We contacted a local dance studio who offered to fill in, but there are still a few spots that need to be filled.  My sister and her boyfriend offered to join which means we only need two more couples.”

“No.  No!” I stood up.  “No way in hell am I dancing in front of hundreds of people at the community’s biggest charity ball.  Our community’s ONLY charity ball!”

Ethan raised his hand, “I’m going to have to second this.  I’ve got two left feet.  You and Gray can do it.  He’s pretty good at picking up new things.”

Grayson shrugged, “I’m down for whatever.”

“There you go!” I gestured to Grayson without looking at him.  “You only have one more couple to find!  One step closer.”

Grace’s hand went to her forehead, massaging right above her eyes, “Y/n, please. It’s just one night.  We learn the dance tomorrow; the ball is this weekend! Please, as a friend, do this for me.” She gave me puppy eyes.  Of course she would pull the ‘as a friend’ card.  

“I don’t have a ball gown, Grace!  Ethan can’t dance for shit!  And tomorrow I have a family gathering in the evening, I can’t make the practice!  You’re going to have to find someone else.” Each word I spoke was the truth.  I’ve seen the way Ethan moves, he can’t keep with the beat very well.  He would need someone truly experienced to make it successful.

“We can get you a gown on Thursday or Friday.  I’ll dance with Ethan; I’ve done this plenty of times and you can dance with Grayson.  Grayson can come to practice and then teach you some other time!” For the first time since he’d been outside with us, I looked at Grayson who was equally as shocked as me.  “Right, Gray?” she batted her eyelashes.

In my mind I kept begging her to stop.  Stop batting your damn eyelashes.

“Y- yeah.” He stuttered.

“Then it’s settled!” she clapped her hands together and squealed.

My wide eyes settled on Ethan who shrugged, giving in all too easily.  I closed my eyes in frustration, accepting my fate.  As if things couldn’t get worse, I now have to attend a ball with Grayson Bailey Dolan as my dance partner.


“How about this one?” Grace held up a long, light pink dress.  It looked like something a 5-year-old would wear while playing dress up.  Grace and I had complete opposite taste in clothing.  She was all about purples, pinks, light yellows, etc. which is fine, but I was more of a darker colors person, not too many frilly things on it. I knew that by the end of the day we would have to find a happy medium.  Something that was a darker color, but still had a bit of lace or sparkle on it to make her happy.

“I’m not a child, Grace.  No thanks.” I snipped, turning back to the rack.

“You’re hard to please.” She complained, dramatically hanging it back up.

I rolled my eyes, “You think I’m hard to please because you’re pulling out dresses that you would wear, not me.”

“Fine!” she grunted, “If we’re fitting your style you can get this one!” she held up a dress that looked like it had been designed back in the late 50’s. It was a plum purple and looked like an outfit that an evil step mother would wear.  I waved it off, a small smile dancing on my lips as she laughed, shoving it back in with the rest of the dresses.

We continued to rummage through the dresses, finding nothing that I liked and I was starting to think that I should just settle, it was only going to be one night. The selection wasn’t huge because we were in the clearance section.  I couldn’t afford anything too expensive so we were in the dresses under $500 whereas Grace’s was probably over $10,000 I’m sure.

I ran my finders down the line of dresses, my eyes seeing Grace drift over to the more expensive dresses.  My pace started to pick up to stop her from falling in love with a dress that was out of my limits, but I was too late.  I heard her gasp as she approached a mannequin.

“It’s perfect for you.” She said in awe, her hands pulling the fabric out for examination.

I stopped next to her, realizing that she was right.  There was no way that I couldn’t fall in love with this dress. It was a darker shade of gray that almost looked black.  It had a weaved bodice which is what I’m sure attracted Grace to it.  The skirt area consisted of numerous layers of soft tulle material that ranged from a nearly black shade to a lighter gray.  

My hands grasped the price tag and immediately let go once I saw the price. “Grace, $9,000!  No way!  I can’t afford this!”

“Just try it on!” she begged.  “We NEED to know what it looks like on.”

I sighed, “Fine.”

“Ma’am!” Grace called the employee over, “My friend would like to try this on!”

           A couple minutes later, I was stood in front of a mirror, my heart racing faster than it ever had.  Not only because I was wearing something worth more than my car, but because I had never felt that beautiful before.

           “Oh, Y/n, you look beautiful!  I told you this was the dress!” she fluffed the skirt up.

           “It’s gorgeous.” I mumbled.  “I can’t afford it though.” I turned to get a view of what it looked like to the side.  My hand moved down the fabric on my abdomen.

           “You don’t have to pay for it.  While you were changing I asked my dad if we could get it for you.  Of course he said yes, he loves you!  After all you’ve done for me—this is nothing.” She paused for a beat, “I can’t ever repay you for all you’ve done for me.  So, please let us do this for you.”

           “I can’t let you.  It’s only one night.  It’s not worth spending $9,000 for one night.” But she didn’t listen to me.  Before I could stop her, she had pulled a credit card out of her purse, ripped the price tag off of the dress, and left the dressing room area.


It was Friday night, the last day before the ball.  I had to go to learn the dance with Grayson and I was dreading it. We hadn’t spoken since the kiss and we were both avoiding each other as much as possible.  I rang the doorbell which wasn’t like me, I was always one to just let myself into their place.  Grayson opened the door, moving to let me in.

My steps into the house were slow and hesitant.   I was slow enough that he shut the door and walked past me.  I followed behind, leaving a good amount of distance between the two of us.  He reached and grabbed a Bluetooth speaker off of the counter and went to the back door. Again, he opened the door for me and let me out first like the gentleman he was.  He shut the door and walked down the patio steps onto the grass.  He went to the center of the yard, placing the speaker down, gesturing for me to join him.

“Take your shoes off.” He instructed as he did so.

I slid my feet out of my sandals, my eyes still locked onto his.  I kicked them to the side to give us plenty of room. “Why did I need to take my sandals off?” I asked.

“It will be easier for our feet to move against the grass.” He explained, pulling his cell phone out from his pocket.  “So, luckily, Grace got her father to agree to a modern song rather than one sounding like it was set in the Victorian era.  We’re going to be dancing to Tenerife Sea by Ed Sheeran.”

“That’s my favorite song.” I said under my breath.

“Yeah, I know.” He flashed a small smile that disappeared all too soon.  “So first we’re going to go through the steps in bits, then we’re going to put them all together, then we’ll dance to the music. Sound good?”

“Do I really have a choice?” I chuckled.

“Nah.” He grinned back at me.  “Okay, stay there, I’m going to take a few steps back from you.” He strolled backwards till there were about 5 feet between us.  “First we are going to turn to the side, facing opposite directions and take 4 steps forward.  I’ll give us a tempo.” He started to snap his fingers.  “You’re going to step-pause.” I mimicked him for the 4 steps.  And from there it just got more complicated.

Grayson was a pretty good teacher and never went on without making sure that I had gotten the steps down.  We worked through the dance a few times, my mess ups lessening each time.  It was nice that he was encouraging the whole time, especially the parts where we were so close you could barely fit a credit card in-between the two of us.

“Are you ready to put it to music?” he asked, picking his phone up off the ground. I nodded my head, taking a deep breath. “Don’t worry, you’ll do great and don’t forget that we start right when the music begins.”  Again I nodded and got into my position.

He nodded to me before pressing play.  Instantly I froze and didn’t move.  He noticed right away and stopped the music.  “You can do it.  Don’t over think it, okay?” he encouraged me gently before we reset ourselves.  The music started again and I found myself moving to the beat of the intro successfully.  Grayson sent me a small smile before we switched directions to take four steps back to our original spots.

You look so wonderful in your dress
I love your hair like that
The way it falls on the side of your neck
Down your shoulders and back 

I followed the movements he had instructed me to do, our eyes remaining on each other’s.  We slowly moved closer to each other and with each step my breathing got deeper.

We are surrounded by all of these lies
And people who talk too much
You got the kind of look in your eyes
As if no one knows anything but us

Our hands raised, leaving about an inch between them as we started to turn in a circle.  We repeated this movement in the opposite direction before he took my hand into his, his other hand resting against my lower back, pulling me closer to him.

Should this be the last thing I see
I want you to know it’s enough for me
‘Cause all that you are is all that I’ll ever need

           We started to move in sync, him taking the lead, knowing that I was still nervous as hell.  I found myself squeezing his hand a little tighter.  His thumb was making small movements against my back to comfort me. Let me tell you… it was working.

I’m so in love, so in love
So in love, so in love

           Our pace started to pick up with the chorus.  We started to waltz as we moved in circles on the open space.  I could feel how easily we glided over the grass without our shoes on. As we continued to move Grayson’s grip on my hand loosened as he said “turn now” and I followed his instruction.  Our fingers danced together as my body twirled around to resume its position against his.

           We continued to dance, our eyes never leaving each other’s.  Each lyric made me realize just how much I loved being this close to him.  The words spoke to me in a way that they had never done before.  Because if this was the last moment I had in my life, it would completely be enough for me.

           As the song came to an end our bodies slowed to a pause and his hand lifted to my neck, his thumb brushing against my jawline.  His touch sent a fire through my skin, a pleasurable warmth that was so addictive.  He leaned forward and pressed his lips against my forehead, letting them linger longer than I had expected.  He pulled me closer to him again as his phone shuffled the songs on the album and started to play another Ed Sheeran song called One.

           And we swayed to the music, my hand in his again and my head resting against his chest.  A single tear rolled down my cheek, the patio lights the only thing lighting up my face in the now dark night.  So I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment that I would never get again.  The moment that made me feel like I was actually enough for someone.

All my senses come to life
While I’m stumbling home as drunk as I
Have ever been and I’ll never leave again
'Cause you are the only one
And all my friends have gone to find
Another place to let their hearts collide
Just promise me, you’ll always be a friend
'Cause you are the only one


This took a while I know and I’m super sorry.  I’m interested who you want the reader to be with after this part :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Heart Comps. 3: Darkness Fuels Jealousy

A/N: IT’S BAAACCCKKKK. Heart Complications 3 is here! Now I’m warning you more, this is going to get violent, dark, abusive. We’re gonna see how bad the Demon side of Finn is, and we’re gonna see that he’s got interesting powers in the next chapters. This? It’s just a prelude. There’s no smut in this one, just general freakish things. AND YES I know that Finn would never be this way, however, this is my fic and this is how I feel the Demon King would act.

Characters: Reader Inserted

Word Count: 2,590

Triggers: Stalking, Anxiety, Threats

Type: Non-smutty.

Tags: @neeadinghugs @deseraysmiththings @panic-angel3314 @ambrosegirlforever @queen-twerks-a-lot @baeckyshorsewomen @mishaandtears


What happens when Finn gets jealous? He loses control of who he is.


Originally posted by baleesi

Waking up in an empty hotel room used to be fine for you. You loved your independence. You thrived in your aloneness. After that night with Seth? Not so much. I guess it’s a good thing you’ve had a 6 day weekend in the beautiful city you reside in.

You remember waking up to a couple of passive aggressive texts from Finn from the last few days. He wasn’t happy that Seth was first, and that he didn’t understand why you didn’t come to him. You know he’s called the Demon King for a reason, you just didn’t know that the Demon would be slowly coming out in jealousy fits.

You wake up to the light hitting your face. Your eyes, barely holding open as you fully come to. That’s when it hits you. Sunday. Tomorrow is Raw. I haven’t packed. Plane leaves at 8pm.

You check your phone for the time, when you notice the text message light blinking. You’ve fully avoided your gang of misfits all six days, which apparently has worried them.

Because your phone has 25 text messages and almost 40 missed calls. You roll your eyes and begin to scroll through.

You click Romans box first, the text messages pull a smile on your face.

Rome: Are you alive?

Rome: We haven’t heard from you in days.

Rome: Come on call me back.

Rome: I’ll send the goddamn cops, woman.

Rome: I’ll Liam Neeson you.

You send back, “yeah, I’m alive, just needed a break”, before clicking Jeffs box next.

Jeffro: I get that you need space but you gotta check in man.

Jeffro: Finn has been asking us if we’ve heard from you.

Jeffro: I think he likes you.

Jeffro: I don’t blame him but for real answer your phone!

Jeffro: Just got off the phone with Finn, again. He’s worried about you. Call him.

You hit the reply box, “I’ll call him after I wake up a bit more, I needed a break”. You enter Dean’s texts.

Dean: If you’re not either dead or dying when I see you, I’ll make sure you’re one of those options.

Dean: Getting us all freaked out that you’re dead. Dick.

You laugh hard, “back at you, douche”, clicking reply. Next is Seth.

Seth: Did I do something wrong? I haven’t heard from you since that night. Call me back.

You text Seth, “no, nothing you did, I just needed to be alone, sorry to worry you. See you at RAW?”

And the dreaded 12 text messages from Finn. The lump in your throat forms, more scared than sad.

Finn: Are you okay? Call me back.

Finn: Look, you need to tell me if you’re alive. Answer.

Finn: I’m getting really, really upset that you’re avoiding me.

Finn: Do you hate me or something?

Finn: I can’t get ahold of Seth either. You two having fun?

Finn: I still don’t understand why you’re into him. It’s weird.

Finn: But clearly he’s won you over so I’ll just leave you be.

Finn: You know I hate it when you don’t talk to me.

Finn: (Y/N)..

You don’t even read the rest. You just start clicking away. “I’m alright. I’ve been AT MY HOUSE for the past six days. I wanted some alone time, because ever since I slept with Seth, you all have been fighting for my attention. YOU MORE THAN ANYONE. If I want to sleep with any of you, I’ll make sure to let you know”.

You hit send and get out of bed, not even comprehending why he’s so upset. It’s unlike Finn so much, so it scares you. You’re not dating, you can sleep with who you want. You mentally shrug and pull your hair into a ponytail before looking through your dresser for clothes to bring on the new States tour. You don’t even know where to start, but what you do know… is that you’re bringing a lot of lingerie.


You slowly make your way around the Talking Stick Resort Arena in Phoenix, AZ, catching Romans eye from down the hall. He stops his conversation mid sentence to charge at you. You brace yourself for floor impact, dropping your bags, but you’re lifted off the floor in a big spin hug.

“Rome, you’re crushing me”.

Ohp”, he says as he sets you down gently, “I forgot that you’re tiny”. You hit his bicep playfully as he grabs your bags. That’s when he looks at you almost sympathetically. You roll your eyes.

“What now, Rome”, you ask before gazing into his blue eyes. His mouth twists, like he’s contemplating even telling you, that’s when a deep sigh leaves his body.

“Finn… isn’t Finn right now”, he mumbles as you both begin walking to the locker rooms to get ready for the show, “you see, we’ve been around him long enough to tell the signs, but you..”, he pauses, “you’re new”.

A look of confusion plays on your face, trying to decipher his words.

“When Finn is mad.. or jealous.. or basically any type of negative emotion.. something else comes out.. someone else”.

“What do you mean by that? Why is it aimed towards me?”

“He’s got a thing for you, he has since he met you, and when you slept with Seth, his someone else started to begin to show through”, you both turn the corner, walking down a long, quiet hall, “and what you sent him today pushed him into dangerous territory, a place none of us have seen in quiet a while”.

Finn turns a corner, standing in front of the both of you, “speak of th’ devil, am I correct”? Your body detects the instant change of atmosphere as he stands in front of you, almost taller than usual. Roman keeps close to you, ready to jump at any given time.

Your lips let out a faint whisper, “hiya finn..”. The words from your lips make him lick his slowly, “she haven’t a clue, has she”?

As Roman and Finn stare each other down, Romans arm hovers in front of you protectively. You eye Finn up and down. He is taller. You begin looking harder at him, his silky white Irish skin you knew is almost as stark as fresh snow. The pitch black suit doesn’t help. Your eyes trail along his elongated body to his face. His lips that used to be a wet, pouty pink, have become dry, and three shades lighter. His normal bright blue eyes are an ashy gray, followed by a hint of smoldering red. You take a step back to assess this situation. His grin upon his face plays wider, taunting you to make any sort of statement, any sort of sudden move.

“I can hear your heart beating faster, ya should probably go”.

You begin to walk past both Roman and Finn. He grabs your arm tight.

“Don’t worry, little one”, his words like shards of glass against your face, he leans in close, “I don’t have a match tonight, even if you run, I’ll find you”. That’s when he whispers something into your ear, something you can’t decode, but the sound of it makes your ears ring louder than church bells. You pull away and notice the devilish grin form on his face, gulping down a swallow of air as you look into his shadowy eyes. He allows your arm its freedom as Roman follows you into the locker room. His face almost as white as the walls behind him.

“Sooo… yeah that whole Demon King Finn thing? Yeah, real.”

I can fucking see that, Rome”.

He starts laughing as you calm your breathing, but he slyly locks the door behind him. Roman saunters up to you, standing directly behind you.

“Sorry for protecting you”, he pulls you by the shoulder so you’re facing him, “I know you don’t need any but I felt.. dominant.. around you”. Your breathing stalls as your hand reaches up, placing it on his chest. You immediately know you want to feel this man inside you. You also immediately know who lurks out in the shadows.

“Rome, I want to, so fucking bad”, you pull your hand away from him, “but we’re gonna have to wait until this shit with the Demon King is over”. His assuring smile lets you know that’s alright.

“I just want to make it through this night unscathed, okay?”

He kisses the top of your head, letting his lips linger on your skin for a couple seconds longer, “I’m always going to keep you safe”. You breathe into his neck. Safe. It’s the one word you’ve needed to hear since you ended up in the warpath of a jealous demon. Your heart calms at the sentence, knowing you could be hurt as soon as you walk out the door.

“Rome”, your inquisitive voice protrudes with a nervous break, “you said Finn isn’t Finn, which is very understandable now, but if he’s not Finn, what do I call him”? You feel Roman take a nervous gulp.

“Bálor. He’s Bálor. Demon King from the depths of an unruly hell”, he steps away from you, “who is using Finns jealousy to bring himself out, which means”.. Roman stops himself and takes a step away from you, before placing his hands upon both your shoulders, “we’re gonna get out of this room, okay”?

“Roman, what? ‘Which means’ what”? You struggle to grab your bag but he throws it over his shoulder.

“Bad things. Follow”.

He takes your hand, peeking his head out from the door, making sure there’s nobody around. “I’m taking you to Seth and Jeff”, he mouths, just in case. He begins heading down the hallway, always looking to make sure you’re not in any danger.

“Why”, you mouth back.

“I have a match with Dean”, he replies, looking back at you, “they’ll be able to help if I’m not around”.

Roman finally bursts through the door with force, making both Seth and Jeff jump from their chairs around a smaller table. Seth throws his cards halfway across the room in shock as Roman locks the door.

“Rome, the fuck man”?

You step from behind him, the expression on your face confirming their worst fears. Seth drops his anger, pulling you into a tight embrace. Jeff lowers his head, “she has, hasn’t she”? Roman nods, stripping his clothes off, ducking behind some lockers to get changed.

“Yeuhp, she has, and that’s not even the worst part”, he buckles his wrestling gear up as Dean comes staggering through the bathroom, “if that ain’t the worst part, what the hell is”?

Roman steps back to everyone, pulling his top over his head, “he’s so beyond a jealous rage that he relinquished his entire being over”, he clips his vest. He motions for Dean to follow him out, “so keep an eye on (Y/N), she’s gonna need it, especially with Bálors jedi mind tricks”. They leave, the door clicking locked behind them.

You dig through your marked outfit box, hoping to find something colorful to pep you up out of your funk. Oooh, lime green. You pull your outfit out and Seth looks up, “need me to help”, his smile beaming with his question. You mess up his hair, “I think I can dress myself”. You turn and disappear into the bathroom, Jeff and Seth both watching until you’re out of view.

It’s not very big, it never is, but the showers have great water pressure and the steam helps you relax. The hot water runs over your tired, drained body, hoping to find any bit of energy to get through your match. You step out, a towel loosely wrapped around your body. The shower door is locked shut, but it feels chilly, even with all the hot steam. You seem drowsy, hoping you’re dreaming as your towel falls off your body. You bend pick it up, but it gets kicked away from your hand. The bathroom lights begin to flicker a little.

You shoot straight back up and look directly into the mirror. Bálor. You turn around, but he isn’t here. Jedi mind tricks. You slowly face the mirror again, and this time he’s closer, reaching up and tugging a clump of your hair hard. You instinctively throw a punch into the wall, and everything stops, except for a soft laugh. You’ve never dressed faster in your life.

You step back into the locker room, and the four boys are there. Roman and Dean sweaty from their match. You look confused.

“How long was I in there for”?

“Almost an hour and fifteen minutes, they got back an hour ago”, Jeff replies, “are you alright”? You nod, lacing up your boots for your upcoming match. Dean perks up, “I suggest we all follow her to gorilla, so she doesn’t run into DemonDick”.

“He’s not a dick”, you lace your boots tighter, “he’s just.. not himself”. You hate when they talk about him. Finn is still your friend. He’s just not Finn. You stand up, heading towards the door.

“I can take care of myself, just stay here”, you assure them as each one looks at you, almost pleading to not go out alone, “I got this”. You smile.

You head out down the hallway to gorilla as you run chest first into him. You most certainly don’t got this.

You push him a little, “move”, your tone harsh. He catches your wrist, “now, now, look at ya”, his smoldering dead gray gaze slowly looks you from top to bottom, “such wonderful colors for someone apparently dark enough to dare piss me off”, the tone in his voice is gritty, “I should teach ya not to do that right here”.

Bálor slams you against the wall, hard enough to prove a point, watching the breath escape your lungs, “but I’m not one for foreplay”, he breathes out from his nose, the playful evil look turns to rage again, “I’ll see you later”. He removes his grip, sauntering away as if it never happened.

Your match with Sasha Banks went smoothly, you pick up a win just before Wrestlemania, where you’re supposed to team with Finn. You just hope Finn is Finn by then. The boys meet you in the gorilla, your stuff with them.

“We’re headed to the hotel, Finn has a room with us, we booked you a different one on the other side of the hotel, where maybe he can’t find you”. You thank them as you all head down the street towards the hotel, draped in a long jacket, you in the middle of four overprotective men.

Roman helps you to your room, the tiredness sinking in as you can barely see straight as you get to the door.

“You going to be okay?”, he asks, the genuine concern is refreshing after the day you’ve had. You breathe out almost in a defeated tone, “yeah, I think I will be”.

You watch his face twist a little, almost regretting letting you be alone in your room. He kisses the top of your head before handing you your bag.

“I know you’re worried about Finn, but you don’t have to be. Get some sleep, okay? You deserve it.”

Your innocent smile plays up, “I will Rome”.

“Call if you need help”, he says as he heads down to the elevator. You shove the key card in the slot and push open the door, closing it slowly. An instant chill runs from your lower back to your spine.

“I told you I’d see you later”.

anonymous asked:

Just some constructive criticism!: sometimes mouths are placed too closely too the nose and it can make the face look off, maybe work on proportions too since legs can look too small on a character making it seem like their body is giant compared to the legs, also proportions in general, also maybe look up skintone charts since some of your lighter shades look oddly gray and dull, otherwise good luck with this blog hope to see more!

Yeaaa I’ve got a long ways to go still, I struggle a lot with either butting the mouth too far up or down. Thank you so much, I’ll work on all of these ^^

1: Coffee Shop

Simon had been working at Slats for a month now, and he was already bored out of his mind.

Don’t get him wrong, he thought the coffee shop itself was great—cozy and comfortable, yet not claustrophobic. The whole storefront was made of small panes of glass, some of them brightly colored. The ceiling was covered in a criss-crossed array of old wooden pallets (hence the name) and ivy looped across the walls with reckless abandon.

He enjoyed coming to work if only to see the different people that wandered in each day. There were a few regulars—the man with the bushy ginger beard who frequently dressed in a tweed suit (ordering a black coffee with one teaspoon of brown sugar), the woman with the red beret and irritable corgi that lurked under her table (she would order peach tea). Then there was the group of chavs that Simon became quite fascinated with (they would covertly order hibiscus lattes like it was somehow a threat to their masculinity, then punch each other enthusiastically as they left).

But despite this strange array of people that found their way into Slats, Simon was bored.

Simply put, it wasn’t very exciting making drinks all day. It was repetitive and dull and the coffee grinder gave him a headache. Occasionally someone would order something bizarre, and for a moment the boredom would cease ever so slightly, but then he would finish and the boredom would creep back like a persistent fungus.

He told himself he wasn’t going to work here forever, and to just suck it up and get on with the job. He was working here part time while he went to uni, to help pay for classes and rent.

But still…

Simon hated being bored.

It made him do things he would normally have enough sense to avoid.

Like talking to customers he had a feeling he should stay away from.


Two months passed, slowly and uneventfully.

Then, one day, everything changed.


It was a Tuesday. Simon had been working for about two hours and a dull headache had begun to bloom behind his left eyebrow (curse that damn coffee grinder). Outside, London had begun to grow dark, the sunlight being replaced by meandering fog and dusky twilight. He checked his watch.

7:46 pm.

A little over four more hours of his shift.

God, he wanted to kick something.

There weren’t many people in the shop. Only the woman with the corgi, sitting in a corner reading a newspaper.

Simon put his head between his hands, leaning over the counter.

The door chimed, signaling a newcomer.

At first, Simon didn’t bother to look up. He heard the click-clack of fancy shoes approaching slowly. A moment passed. Then, a gentle cough permeated the silence.

Simon raised his head.

“What do you want?” he said tiredly.

The man blinked, lifting a single dark eyebrow.

“Is that any way to talk to a customer?” he asked.

Simon stood, regarding the stranger. He looked like a fancy private-school student, wearing a perfectly-fitted overcoat and dress pants. His hair hung loose around his face, the color of freshly-spilled ink.

It was his eyes that gave him away. His eyes that told Simon that this wasn’t just any fancy private-school student.

He had eyes like storm clouds. And yes, Simon realized just after the thought crossed his mind that this was a fairly cliche thing to think, but it was true. They were a dark gray, threaded with lighter shades of silver.

They were mesmerizing.

…And currently filled with a look that Simon interpreted as cold amusement.

“Whatever,” said Simon, trying his hardest to sound unfazed. “What’ll it be?”

The man let his eyes drift across the menu lazily, running his fingers over the counter as he did. Simon noticed an ornate ring on his right hand—a bronze ring in the shape of a beetle.

“What would you recommend?” he asked, making eye contact with Simon.

Simon shivered involuntarily, hoping it wasn’t visible.

“To be honest, everything pretty much tastes the same,” said Simon, glancing back at the man’s fingers (they looked less threatening). “But the mint mocha’s are alright.”

“I’ve never heard an employee talk poorly of their own merchandise,” he said. Simon noted that his voice sounded like winter ice—cold, crisp and beautiful in a dangerous sort of way. The sort of voice perfect for lulling someone into a trap.

(Simon realized he didn’t much like this fellow).

“Yeah, well, I don’t much like the merchandise,” said Simon, chancing a look back into his face. There was a strange expression there.

“Hmpf,” he replied, reaching into his coat and fishing out a pristine leather wallet. “One mint mocha, then.”

Simon turned toward the preparation counter too quickly, knocking over a stack of paper cups. The fell to the ground in a cacophony of hollow sound. Simon felt his neck grow warm as he heard a slight chuckle from beyond the counter.

He threw together the drink haphazardly, just wanting to get it over with. He wanted this strange person to leave. He hated people like this—people that looked at him like he was worth less than they were.

“Here,” he said shortly, sliding the drink across the counter into the man’s waiting palm.

“Thank you…Simon,” he said leaning over slightly to look at the name tag pinned to Simon’s apron.

Simon turned away, pretending to busy himself with cleaning the coffee grinder.

The man sat down at a table close by. Out of the corner of his eye Simon watched as he gently pulled a glass box out of his backpack and set it down on the table.

Simon couldn’t help but stare full-on when he realized what it was. It was a beetle, large enough to fill someone’s hand.

“What, you’ve never seen a beetle before?” asked the man, addressing Simon without looking at him.

Simon swallowed hard and pushed a hand through his hair.

“Course I have. But not one like that.”

After a brief pause the other man said “Well, come have a look at it.”

Simon was tempted to refuse, but his curiosity got the better of him. He left the counter and sat in the chair opposite the stranger.

“I’m Baz, by the way,” he said, tucking a loose strand of glossy black hair behind his ear. “Figured you should know my name if you know mine.”

“I suppose,” said Simon, trying not to envy Baz’s politeness. It would be so much easier if he acted like a complete arse.

“This is Henry,” said Baz, leaning over the glass box. His gray eyes seemed to gleam in pride when he looked at the insect.“A specimen of mine. Rhinoceros beetle.”

“That explains the horns,” murmured Simon, leaning over as well to get a closer look. “Why do you have it?”

“I work for the Natural History Museum,” said Baz, his eyes still on the beetle. “I’m an entomologist—bug scientist,” he clarified, when guessing correctly that Simon had no idea what that was. “I’m in charge of taking care of insects, living and dead. This one’s moving to a new exhibit, so I need to take it back to my flat for a few days.”

“And you’re not…worried it’ll escape while you’re sleeping?” questioned Simon. While he couldn’t say that he was afraid of insects, he definitely wouldn’t feel at ease with a creature like that in his house.

“Of course not,” said Baz matter-of-factly. He sat back in his chair, his posture almost annoyingly perfect. “I’ve had plenty of insects stay over in my apartment. Doesn’t bother me.”

“Doesn’t it bother your…girlfriend?” asked Simon. The question hung in the air awkwardly.

Baz gave a low chuckle.

“Girlfriend? No, I don’t have one of those.”

Simon coughed in an attempt to break the heavy silence, but the attempt was futile.

“So…why entomology?” he asked instead.

Baz ran his tongue over his bottom lip quickly, almost too quickly for Simon to see it (he ignored the strange thoughts this stirred up).

“I’ve always been fascinated with them—how they’re so lovely, yet so generally feared and even despised,” he began. His eyes wandered somewhere over Simon’s shoulder, staring far away. “It saddens me that they’re disrespected the way they are.”

“Hm,” said Simon. He noted the tone of Baz’s voice, and guessed that entomology meant something far deeper to him, whether he knew it or not. “So you’re telling me, if you pulled back your shower curtain and saw a spider in there, you wouldn’t kill it?’

“Of course I’d kill it,” said Baz smoothly, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. “I don’t study arachnids.”

Simon laughed at the unexpectedness of this response, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle it. Baz cocked an eyebrow.

When the silence crept back in Baz took a sip of his coffee, grimacing slightly. “You’re right. This tastes like pond water.”

“I never said it tasted like pond water,” snapped Simon.

“It’s fine,” said Baz. He smiled this time, a real one. Simon liked the way it changed his face—turned him beautiful. “Now, I must be going. Got to get Henry home.”

Baz picked up the terrarium and tucked it beneath his arm. He held out his other hand to Simon to shake.

“Pleasure meeting you,” he said, back to business. “Stop by the museum sometime—I’ll show you something amazing.”

Simon took his hand and shook it, trying not to blush.

“I might just do that,” he said with a smile of his own.

Baz blinked and disappeared out into the London twilight.

As Simon turned back to the counter, he couldn’t help but think that perhaps this job wasn’t so boring after all.

This was what I came up with for the first day of the Carry On Countdown! I’m so excited to be one of the hosts for this event and can’t wait to see what everyone else comes up with. I hope you enjoyed it! I personally really liked the idea of Entomologist!Baz. Make sure to tag @carryon-countdown so we can see what you’ve made!


replied to your



malfunctioninghero replied to your post: i’ve been…

No problem!! I’m entranced by your use of color *o* very inspiring!

Thank you~!

My color choices are mostly done this way. Once I pick the base color, I slide the hue wheel slightly before picking the darker/lighter colors (black for the direction of the shades, gray for the highlights). The question marks signify areas where the direction depends on what mood I want; luckily for me, I don’t use those colors too often. Otherwise, varying the selector diagonally makes the choices more interesting in my opinion.

And there’s room for ‘filters’ too, of course. ^^


Genre: fluff (very)

Word Count: 4.4k (welp)

Warning/s: mild swearing

Summary: Dan and Phil meet in summer. They start painting each other’s world. Slowly, like a kiss.

A/N: *screams* SOULMATE AYS M8S ;D how are you guys?? long time no see!! hope you’re all fine. I began watching anime, just a heads up so idk

ao3 link

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okayjun  asked:

sorry if this is a lot of trouble or if you've already done something like this, but I was wondering if you could maybe do like a "products for dummies" type list of good makeup in general? cuz I live off of random drugstore products but have no clue where to start trying to Pull Myself Together..

Okay you’ve got it I’m going to teach you how to do an easy, full-faced makeup look using only drugstore products!

First, the face. Start by really scrubbing your face down with cleanser and then apply a sheer layer of moisturizer and let it dry. 

Then you follow this pattern, 1) concealer 2) foundation 3) concealer 4) powder.

1) Apply a concealer in your skin tone or a shade lighter to any red marks on your face (Except if you’re extremely fair, then pick a light color with a yellow tint to cover the redness). This will make it so you don’t have to apply a whole lot of foundation which clogs your skin after a while. A good option is Maybelline’s “Fit Me” concealer because it’s really the same formula as a lot of “luxury” brands. You can apply and blend this with clean fingers or a plain old cosmetic wedge sponge (it’s getting covered anyway).

2) Find a foundation that matches your skin type. For example, if you get oily, find a matte foundation (L’oreal’s pro-matte foundation) and if you’re very dry pick a dewy foundation (L’oreal’s pro-glow foundation). If you’re in between, then just pick the finish that you want. A really good starter foundation is L’oreal’s Lumi Cushion foundation, because it’s buildable, which means you won’t over-apply and can put as much on as you’d like PLUS it comes with a puff to apply it so it’s perfect if you don’t have a lot of tools yet. (This foundation doesn’t come in very light/fair shades though, and most shades are made for medium skin tones). It’s very important to swatch the foundation in-store before you buy because this is going to cover your ENTIRE face so if it doesn’t match the rest of you, it will look like you’re wearing a mask. Most stores have a tester to try it. To swatch it, blend a little bit on the inside of your arm bc this is closest to your face’s complexion. The goal is to watch it “disappear” almost, that should be your shade. Once you have your foundation, you can either apply it with a brush or a sponge. Wet n Wild has a FANTASTIC vegan brush range and every single brush costs somewhere from 99 cents to $3. Their flat-top foundation brush seamlessly blends the product into your skin. That being said, you can use trusty old cosmetic wedge sponge too. Just make sure you PAT it into the skin, don’t drag it across your face, this will give you maximum coverage. Don’t forget the sides of your face and your neck either. Very important! If you find that redness is still peeking through, just apply the foundation to THOSE spots, not the whole face.

3) Concealer again. Use your concealer under your eyes in a triangular formation (the top point of the triangle should be parallel to your nose). Pat that in just like you did with your foundation. This covers dark circles, but the triangle shape always makes your face look higher, brighter, and more awake!

4) Powder (my favorite honestly)! This sets your makeup and keeps it in place for the whole day. Now depending on your skin type, either pick a loose or pressed powder. Loose powder is best for dry skin whereas pressed is better for oily skin. That being said, loose powders are usually a translucent, universal shade which doesn’t have much coverage. If you still want to cover something like acne, pressed powder is the way to go because you buy it in your skin tone. For loose powder, apply it with a brush and sweep it over the face. Wet n Wild’s vegan powder brush is incredibly soft & perfect for this. Elf also has a great powder brush from $4 to $6. A good loose powder is from NYX and it’s their mineral powder. For a pressed powder, pat (don’t sweep) this in with a round applicator sponge. Rimmel’s “Stay Matte” powder is awesome and I’ve seen it ranging from $2-$5.

NEXT EYES: aka 1) shadow 2) eyeliner 3) mascara 4) brows

1) Shadow can be the most difficult part of makeup, it really can. But it’s also incredibly easy to fake a very profession look too. All you need is one shadow that’s a medium brown color that’s matte finished w/ no shimmer (NYX and L’oreal both have a lot of great options). The lighter your eye color, the shade of brown should be cooler (more gray in it) and the darker your eyes, the warmer brown to pick (more of a reddish tint). Use a brush that tapers at the end and is fluffy. I like using Elf’s flawless concealer bc it’s BIG and really saves time. Apply most of the color onto your lid and blend whatever is left on the brush into the crease of your eye. Next sweep this under bottom lashes with a shader or smudger brush. The more noticeable you want it, like if you’re going out at night as opposed to going to the office, the more you repeat this process over and over. Boom, done, smokey eye.

2) Liner. This takes practice, that’s the truth. Pick a kind of eyeliner that you’re comfortable using. Maybelline has pen-type options that are easy to hold and Revlon has a great gel liner that comes with a brush if you really want to be precise. Liquid liner is the hardest to use, but if that’s what you want to try, Elf’s liquid liner in great and it’s $1! (One dollar!!!) Basically keep the line as close to the lashes as possible and build up as you wish, trying to make the line even and smooth. (CHEAT: if the liner just won’t come out smooth, smoke it out with a gray or black eyeshadow, aka run a small shadow brush over the line over and over and it should look smooth and smokey). For a wing, lightly flick the liner up towards the end of your eyebrow, connect it to the line you have drawn on your eye already, and fill in the gap.

3) Mascara, one of my favorites. Basically, just use L'oreal Telescopic Carbon Black mascara. This is incredibly flattering, affordable, and can even make it look like you’re wearing false lashes. It combines the lengthening aspect of their telescopic mascara w/ the darkening and thickening of the carbon black mascara. Honestly better than any $30 mascara  I’ve ever used. Apply two coats to the top and bottom lashes and your eyes will pop!

4) Brows. Basically, just fill in any spots that are sparse in your brows to start. Use a light hand and make short, hairlike flicks going in the same direction as your hair. To shape, place your brow pencil against your nose and tilt it so it crosses over the middle of your iris. The end of the pencil should point to where the arch in your brow should be. Add more hairlike strokes there to arch & shape your brow. NYX’s microbrow pencil is great and very luxury-brand-like. Pick a shade that’s 1 shade lighter than your hair if you have dark brown to black hair and 1 shade darker if you have light hair. Start with a medium color if you’re not sure! Set this with a brow gel and honestly I’ve tried the scope of drugstore brow gels and they’re all more or less the same. If you have sparse brows pick a gel that’s the same color as your pencil, if you have dark, thick brows then a clear gel is fine.

Onto the cheeks! 1) Blush. (Yes, that’s it.)

1) For a beginner all you’re going to want to do is apply blush. Don’t worry about contouring and highlighting, just, don’t worry about it. Adding a flush to your face will heighten the cheeks and give your face a more shapely & radiant appearance. The color you pick is really up to you! A soft pink, a coral, a fuchsia, pick whichever you think will flatter you best. If you find that you’ve applied too much, just use your powder over it to lighten the color. Both NYX and Hard Candy have great blush options. 

Finishing step: Lips.

Honestly, drugstore lipstick is super super impressive! You can pick whichever you want to try and it should be pretty nice. If you want to apply that on-trend, matte liquid lipstick, try NYX’s soft matte lip creams. Personally my favorite shade is “san paulo” because it can be worn to class, to work, out on the town, to a concert–the shade is that versatile. Covergirl has really nice tinted lip balms if just like a very slight wash of color is for you (they’re identical to Fresh’s lip tint line and cost 3X less). Maybelline’s matte lip collection is great as well! Just try out different shades & have fun. Lipstick is the easiest product to take off so don’t be afraid to try new shades!

And you’re done yay!!!!!

A beauty only skin deep

You were once a summers day, a rose that grew in may. The colors within the gray, a lighter shade of gray.

The words to a poets rhymes, a muse of our time. A truth behind an unspoken crime, the gleam behind a fickle smile.


Now your lips are stained red with the lust of another’s flesh. A hollow shell of what you once were.

A shame you have brought to your own name, a price you must pay for your fame.

Your pride built on a beauty only skin deep, unaware of the ages true depth. Like a rose withering away in the summers heat, your beauty will bring you to your defeat.

We all fall to the calls of snowfall…

A Bin A


Colorless; SasuSaku
Rating: K

“…it’s red.”

His face wasn’t amused as Naruto continued to explain what the color red was like.

“Umm, well– tomatoes are red and you like them. So chances are, you’ll like the color red, teme!”

Sasuke finally exhaled a sigh, “You’re really bad at this, dobe.”

“Fine! I like to think that red goes hand in hand with something hot. Like your fire ball jutsu, that’s hot and red. Does that make sense?”

“Hn,” his best friend sucked at explaining what different colors looked like. He felt his face heat up, and he instantly knew from the feeling, that his face was red. Sasuke looked in the opposite direction of Naruto.

This was Sasuke Uchiha, born into the Uchiha clan and inherited the Sharigan; the bloodline of his clan. Yet, he wasn’t able to see colors. His life was that of different hues of blacks, grays, and whites– the three shades he knew all too well.

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What if Chat Noir can actually cleanse akumas?

No, it’s not that innocent.

Whenever he cleanses an akuma, or use cataclysm on something living, his suit becomes one shade of gray lighter. Whenever it gets lighter, his morality gets slightly more twisted and evil, until he’s a monster when it’s pure white.

This is why Plagg keeps this away from Adrien - he doesn’t want to be used as a weapon by a monster another time.

Irony: Chat Blanc? Sign me up please. This may or may not be one of my favorite Chat Blanc AU’s.

How To Draw Chibi Takano Masamune.

Step 1: draw a perfect circle if you can. Highly recommend a circle object or just sketch a circle like me.

Step 2: add some facial features. The eye is a bit incorrect here but just draw a simple half oval. The nose is a simple round triangular shape.

Step 3: I usually don’t draw the mouth till later steps because I feel the expression should be one of the last things, but I did so anyway. In later steps I fixed the mouth because Takano’s mouth seemed to be lower and more angled. Draw the ear and darken about half of the circle as shown. The eye is also incorrect and fixed later.

Step 4: fix the eye to a more half oval shape with a line in the top of it. Takano always has a serious demeanor so show it off. Now for the bangs. Similar to Ritsu’s, Takano has bangs in a choppy long kind of way. Hair also covers his eyes. Some hair goes deeper into the room than some that meets at the lines.

Step 5: draw a half circle a bit away from the original circle as if it were almost blanketing over it. The arrows show you exactly what I am talking about. Just make it as round as possible and draw light!

Step 6: I left the lines to show you exactly where to start. The back of the head shows the hair depart from the smooth roundness of the top to a more choppy end. Draw according to how it is drawn above.

Step 7: now the top is round but going to the right it begins to get more and more chopped but more smoothed than the rest as it goes into the bangs.

Step 8: add a eyebrow. However you want to do the eyebrow, I did a more angry demeanor for Takano in the tutorial. He is grumpy cause Ritsu is running away from him or something. Also add a bit more hair at the inside for detail. (I fixed the mouth in this step, notice it is lower and more frowned)

Step 9: make this part of the hair darker. Don’t press down your pencil so much it bleeds but make it dark as needed. I advise going along the bangs in a zigzag format.

Step 10: shade the top of the head a lighter gray and blend it into the rest of it. After so, erase some of the shade and blend it with your finger to show a light to Takano’s hair.

Finished! Good Job, I am so proud of you! ^u^

Thank you for your time and I do take requests for any Takano/Ritsu (Sekaiichi Hatsukoi/Junjou Romantica) related drawing. Don’t be shy to ask.

magikarp-diem-blog  asked:

sure, 16 for jeankasa then!! thank you so much

send me a ship and a number and i’ll write a mini fic

16. things you said with no space between us

It should bother him that her hands don’t shake. 

Right? People’s hands shake when something shitty happens. Jean’s had a lot of time to think about it, anyway, and that’s something he knows for certain; hands shake, voices tremble. They look unsteady and lost, shivering even in the dead of summer. The point is they’re affected. Things touch them.

But almost nothing touches Mikasa. He’s seen her cut through a horde of Titans with the same implacable expression on her face that she wears when she’s eating breakfast. If he hadn’t seen her lose her shit over Eren the first time he shifted, he might never have known she had the capacity for emotion at all. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he mutters when she brushes his cheek, whisper light. 

She blinks once before resuming her examination. “You’re bleeding.”

“Imagine that.” The sarcasm sounds especially loud in this space; shivering and close, hardly a breath between them. Why is she so fucking close? His skin burns under her fingers, and his heart galumphs weakly against his ribs before wedging itself somewhere in the roiling pit of his stomach. Abruptly he’s furious with himself for getting so stupid over the most meaningless touch; it’s not like she’s about to kiss him or anything, for fuck’s sake.  She’s just being pragmatic. She doesn’t want him to get blood all over his jacket. 

Carefully, she cleans the gash. She’s so close that he can’t avert his eyes, and he’s forced to look at her right back; to desperately drink in the odd symmetry of her features, the exact shade of her eyes. There are lighter gray flecks in that sea of dark; they narrow slightly as she works, illuminating her ironclad focus.  

“There will be a scar,” she tells him. 

“I don’t care.”

Silence. Is he imagining it, or does her gaze drift down to his lips before holding his stare? There’s a little color in her face – from effort, or emotion? He’s fooling himself. Her regard is strictly professional; they are comrades, after all. She’s just helping a comrade, that’s it. He’s shifting away from this horribly awkward, demoralizing realization when he watches her brows furrow; so slightly, crumpling with delicacy that shouldn’t be possible for a regular person. He’s filled with the sudden mad impulse to press the flat of his thumb to her brow  and gently smooth the furrow away. 

“You should be more careful,” she says finally. And he’s definitely not imagining the little catch in her voice. 


Clothes Make the Man

I have previously analyzed how the colors of both Elsa and Anna’s clothes represent parts of their personalities. But since making that, I have realized that the same can be said for the clothes of both Kristoff and Hans.

Throughout much of the movie, Kristoff wears his traditional Sami ice harvester clothes. While almost all of Anna’s clothes are brightly colored to reflect her cheery, vibrant personality, Kristoff’s clothes are darker in color: gray with some brown, and very faded. The darkness of them are primarily meant to reflect his cranky, grumpy, and closed off nature. But they have other meanings of his personality as well:

  • Gray is commonly interpreted as a neutral, detached, and depressing color, and it can also attribute to loneliness and isolation. These definitions are perfect to describe Kristoff, because he grew up in the mountains with relative isolation from and little contact with humans, and had only Sven and the trolls for company. He is a loner who has purposely chosen not to interact with humans, having the belief that he can’t trust them.
  • Brown is friendly, warm, and approachable. This does not seem to be what Kristoff is like at first, given that he doesn’t like people and acts very rude and unfriendly towards Anna when they meet. But then as he grows close to her, he slowly reveals himself to be a genuinely friendly person. It also displays him as being an honest, genuine, practical, and hardworking man.

Even when he is wearing the same clothes, Kristoff’s personality is also reflected in different scenes based on how much of his clothes cover his body. In this sense, he wears many (mental) layers/walls that are gradually removed when his true nature begins to show. He goes from putting on a mask of hostility and gruffness to becoming very kind, awkward, and shy. Such scenes that best describe this transition include the following:

  • When Kristoff and Sven are shown in Arendelle the day of the coronation, Kristoff is wearing a fairly dark blue shirt. Because he is alone with his best friend, Kristoff doesn’t hide his real, good (and somewhat silly) side. He plays along with Sven by pretending to talk for him before they share a carrot.
  • When he first meets Anna, Kristoff is almost completely covered in snow and frost, since he just returned from the mountains. He looks like a big scary snow monster and only his eyes are visible. Not interested in making small talk, he acts very gruff and rude to both Anna and Oaken.
  • While in the barn with Sven, Kristoff is not wearing his mittens or hat. This reflects the idea that part of his mask has come off. Again, he speaks for Sven, and is shown to be comfortable being himself when they are together. But then he returns to his hostile mode when Anna enters the barn.
  • As he races Anna back to Arendelle, Kristoff willingly puts his hat on her head. This represents him removing one of his layers and starting to reveal his real, caring self. He doesn’t care what happens to him; all that matters is that Anna gets safe and warm again. He knows his hat may not help very much, but he wants to at least try for her sake.
  • In the final scene, even while in Anna’s presence, Kristoff is being his true self, including showing his gratitude for the sled. He becomes awkward and shy when he expresses his desire to kiss her. But still, it’s part of who he really is. The shirt he is wearing is a softer blue than the one he previously wore, showing that Anna helped uncover his soft side.

On the other hand, Hans’s clothes are a completely different matter. In being a prince, of course, his clothes are much more formal with detailed designs and several different colors, though some are more prominent than others. When he is first introduced, Hans’s princely appearance is meant to deceive viewers into thinking that he is another heroic Disney prince. This is especially because, unlike many Disney villains, Hans does not come off as the villain at the beginning. Even though his clothes do have some dark colors, there is not an excessive amount of one single color to make him look like the villain, along with the fact that he does not have dark physical features (including his facial expressions or hair color).

  • Hans’s coronation suit is the outfit that best disguises his true colors. It primarily consists of a white (cream shade) blazer, pants, and stockings.
  1. White is known for being a color of perfection, as well as purity, innocence, and wholeness. (His blazer also has some gold on it, which represents the wealth and luxury he has in being a prince.) The joke here is that this suit’s color helps fool us into initially thinking that Hans possesses all of these traits, that he is a picture perfect prince. But because he is actually evil, and evil is traditionally represented by dark colors, it is very ironic for him to wear white.
  2. This suit also reflects Anna’s warmer-colored clothing; in other words, he wears a bright-colored outfit just like she does. It is part of his plan to reel her in by making her think that they are so alike, so it would mean they are perfect for each other.
  3. White is also the color of new beginnings, and this relates to the fact that Hans wears this outfit when he and Anna sing “Love Is An Open Door,” in which he discreetly sings his desire to take over Arendelle and become its new ruler.
  • The coloring book Journey to the Ice Palace says that Hans is a naval officer, and even his traditional formal attire, which prominently consists of navy blue trousers, black boots, and a light gray-and-black blazer with patterns, is reminiscent of a naval uniform (a reference to royal siblings of lower birth traditionally entering military service). During his first introduction with Anna, he wears it during the day, when there is light, symbolizing how it helps make him appear good. When Hans reveals his true nature, he is once again wearing his normal formal suit. As he reveals his entire plan, he puts out all the light sources, turning the room dark and giving his clothes a darker shade, symbolically reflecting his inner “dark” nature.
  • While he is in control of the kingdom, to protect himself from the harsh winter, Hans wears a dark gray cloak, which has wavy patterns and a purple interior. In his traditional attire, Hans’s blazer is also gray, but a much lighter shade. When gray grows closer to white, it becomes more lively and illuminating. This is illustrated of how Hans isn’t set up to be the villain when he first appears onscreen. However, when gray becomes darker, it grows closer to black and becomes more dramatic and mysterious. Hans wears the cloak while still continuing his charade, including after he reveals his real nature to Anna only. He wears it as he is about to kill Elsa, which makes it is the best moment to show how its dark shade reflects his true, evil nature.

As a side note, while Hans’s clothes, particularly his white coronation suit, initially give the impression that he is the hero of the film, at the same time, the Duke of Weselton’s clothes help give the impression that he is the main villain. This appears to be supported by his black coat and boots, because black is the traditional color of evil. However, the fact that the Duke is merely the red herring is symbolically (and literally) represented with the red sash that hangs from his left shoulder, the red shirt underneath his coat, and red cuffs at the end of his coat’s sleeves. Lastly, his gray pants symbolize the fact that he really is a neutral character, rather than an evil one.

Animorphs: a rough summation
  • Cassie: *vocally considers a morally lighter option out of the various shades of gray the Animorphs' options take*
  • The rest of the Animorphs: *groan* We don't WANT to do THAT
  • Me: ok....but you know she's right tho
  • *Cassie has an emotional breakdown between what's good and bad*
  • Rachel: ah fuck if Cassie doesn't know what to do then what am I doing???? What do???
  • The rest of the Animorphs: SHit
  • Me: I TOLD Y'ALL

This is based off the song and video for Robbers by The 1975.  This song is absolutely amazing.  I have to give a major shout out to freeyourheartandsoul for helping me with this story.  She was an absolute gem and she helped me get through writers block with this story and get it posted a lot sooner than I thought I would.  Thank you so much babe! I hope this story lives up to your expectations!


“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

She sat back in the uncomfortable metal chair and propped her boot clad feet up on the table in front of her.  She gazed at the video camera set up on the tripod that recorded her interrogation. She smirked before crossing her arms over her chest.  The once white tank top that covered her chest was now stained with dirt. Looking down at her legs she barely made out a spot of blood on the material of her black jeans.  Inwardly she cringed thinking about the past events.

“You and Stilinski have been hitting up stores across the coast. We have you on camera.”

“You have masked robbers on camera.  You have nothing to go on but blurry, shitty security camera footage.  Sorry, but it wasn’t us.  You’ll have to look somewhere else.”

The detective ran his hand over his bald head and let out a sigh.  Leaning back in his chair he stared at the young girl in front of him while chewing on a toothpick that took up shop in the corner of his mouth. There was sheen of sweat covering his brow, a result of the lack of air conditioning in the room; also the result of a California summer.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he began and placed his balled fists on the table in front of him, an action he hoped would show his authority.  “Where is Stiles?”


Have you ever stood outside and watched a storm roll in? You can see the line in the sky where the clear blue fades to dark gray, almost black. There’s a change in the air, the electricity shifts around you. The smell of the incoming storm meets you, warning you. Minutes pass and if you don’t retreat soon you’ll be left in the down pour.  As a child with his mother standing in the rain was a game, now he knew the danger, but he stayed regardless.

That was what she was like. She was a storm that he had seen coming but he chose to stick around for. It didn’t matter that she could bring destruction along with her, he wanted to know her. 

Her eyes were just a shade lighter than the gray stormy sky that he’d seen many times in his young life.  She was a storm. She was inconsistent; he could never guess what was coming next with her.  He never knew when she would be a gentle rain or a hurricane.  But he loved her all the more for that. While his love for Lydia Martin had been consistent all throughout middle and high school, there was always something about Y/N that he was drawn to.

He was just 10 when he first met her. She was sitting in the lobby of the Sherriff’s station; his father was still just a deputy at the time.  He’d come to spend time with his dad at work, hoping to squeeze as much time in with the busy man as he could.  He sat in one of the leather chairs in the lobby, his feet swinging inches above the ground.  He listened as she chatted along with one of the female deputies on duty.  The deputy asked her questions about her life at home, was her daddy always mean to her mommy? What happens when he drinks? Has he ever hurt you?

He didn’t know it at the time, he was too young to understand, but her family was so broken. Her father had lost his job, causing him to drink even more than usual.  When he drank he was mean.  He was mean to her and her mother had stepped in to protect her young daughter.  This incident would be one of many to come.  They would be regulars in this station.  But little did they know how bad things would get. Little did they know that after her graduation from high school there would be one hot, summer night where her father would drink just a little too much.  He would get a little too mad. He would beat on his wife a little too hard. She wouldn’t wake up.

Over the years Stiles had gone out of his way to look out for Y/N.  He befriended her at school at a young age and as they grew older they became inseparable. He was there to hold her and protect her on nights where her father flew off the handle. She had snuck into his room on more than one occasion and begged him to hold her and keep her safe. After the death of her mother he found her at the hospital, her back against the wall of the waiting room, knees pressed to her chest, tears streaming down her face.

“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked, between sobs.

He took her in his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.  “We’ll figure something out.”

She had told him she couldn’t stay; she needed to get out of this town and away from all the bad memories.  She had no family to go to; she had no one but Stiles now.  When he heard her say she was leaving it was a no brainer.  If she was leaving he was going with her.  Wherever she went he would be there. They had packed their bags in the dead of night and taken off in his jeep before the sun rose.

He left a note for his father, promising to keep him up to date on his whereabouts, telling him they just had to get out.  He texted Scott, telling him he wished he could have said goodbye.  Then they were gone. They traveled south, before landing just outside of San Diego. The town was less than desirable, definitely not the best part of town, but they would make do. They pooled together what money they had to buy them a room in a cheap motel.  It wasn’t much, but they had each other.

He got a job at mechanics shop and she as a waitress.  They didn’t make much, just enough to rent an apartment in a multi-story building just a few blocks away from the beach.   Each month they struggled to support themselves, just barely making their rent on time with enough money to get them through the rest of the month.  She would bring them leftover food from the diner, but they still struggled.

One night a storm rolled through town, the rain so strong that it knocked out the power of their building. Stiles stood at the fridge searching in the dark, through the small amount of food they had. He pulled out a can of beer and an apple.  He took a bite of the crisp fruit and popped the tab of the can before pressing it to his lips. The sound of the rain pounding against their glass patio door was the only sound in their tiny apartment.

He jumped slightly when he felt her hands slide up his back then around to his torso before she wrapped her arms around him from behind.  “You scared the shit out of me,” he said, his mouth full of apple. “I didn’t even hear you walk out here.”

She laughed before pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.  That was the funny thing about them. They kissed; they touched each other anytime they were together, like their skin was magnets. They slept in the same bed; they had been each other’s first time, each other’s only. They were drawn to each other, they were connected in every way they could be.  But they had never confessed their love for each other. Not once in the 12 years they’d known each other.

Stiles took another sip of the beer before placing it on the counter beside the fridge.  He turned around in her embrace and draped his arms around her shoulders and let the fingers of his right hand tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, “how was your day?”

“Long,” she replied and rested her head against his chest.  “I worked a double.  That new girl called in sick already so I covered for her.  But at least I got her tips and it’ll boost my paycheck.”

He nodded his head and soon his fingers began to trace patterns over the skin of her shoulders. Despite the rain the air was hot and there was a light layer of sweat covering her skin. The AC in the building was weak, but it was better than nothing.  “Hopefully the power comes on soon and we can get some air in here,” he mumbled.

She nodded her head before stepping away from him and walking out to their small living room.  Dropping down onto the couch she rested her head against the flat cushions and waited for him to join her.  When he did he picked up her legs and placed them in his lap. “I talked to my dad today,” he informed her.

“Yeah?” she asked with a smile. Every day she felt guilty for keeping him away from his father.  After the death of his mother when he was a child, Stiles became everything to that man.  There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t feel like she had taken him away from him. “How’s he doing?”

“Good,” Stiles replied, “busy, though.  I guess there’s been a string of robberies in convenience stores in and around Beacon Hills and they don’t know who’s doing it.  But I guess they’re making off with like, a shit ton of money.”

“Really?” she asked, thinking about what he’d just told her.  She didn’t know what was wrong with her, what sane person would hear something like that and let the idea that maybe they should give it a try, simmer in her mind. But maybe she wasn’t sane. Because the idea did sound… good.  Not that they could pull it off.

“What are you thinking about?” Stiles questioned.

“Uh,” she replied and shook her head.  “Nothing. Just about how we’re behind on rent this month.”

“Shit, again?” he asked and let out a frustrated sigh.  His hours had been cut back at work causing a decrease in his pay.  He hated that she was working extra hours trying to cover his slack.  He also hated that they were still behind on rent when it seemed like all they were doing was working.

The two of them sitting in their dark apartment thinking about the financial troubles was what had set the idea in motion.  After a few minutes passed she could see the concern etched into his features and that’s when she brought it up.  She was hesitant at first, scared of how he would look at her now.  She was, after all, suggesting they commit a crime to make up for their lack of funds.  But desperate times called for desperate measures; at least that’s how she hoped he would see it.

 At first he assumed she was joking, but it only took him a few minutes to realize she was serious. “It’s not like it’s something we have to keep doing forever,” she rationalized, “but wouldn’t it be nice to just put away enough money to maybe get us out of here? Maybe we can have an apartment where the water is warm and there aren’t bugs in the sink. Just enough to get us in a better spot.”

As she spoke he found himself staring at her, like he was memorizing all of her features.  Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, a few strands fell against her face and as she spoke she tried to push them back.  Her skin was clear of any make up, she never wasted her money on it. And she didn’t need it. Her face was beautiful; she looked like a girl you would see in a magazine. She was effortlessly pretty and she didn’t look like the type of girl who would be suggesting robbing convenience stores to get the money for their rent.

In the few silent moments that passed between them she watched him, trying to figure out what was going on in his mind.  She was seconds away from begging him to forget she’d said anything in the first place.  What if he left her because of this? What if he thought she was crazy and he left? She didn’t know what she would do without him.


“Do you really think we could pull of something like that?”

The way he said it told her that he was seriously considering it now. For the rest of the night they sat up talking, formulating a plan. Neither of them would have ever pictured their lives this way just a year before. But they weren’t the same people anymore.  They were desperate.



“Don’t bullshit me girly.  You think I don’t know that you’re covering for your boyfriend?”

Y/N looked up at the detective who was clearly trying to play bad cop.  She was past the point of caring, though.  He could yell at her all he wanted, he could try to make her feel bad, she’d felt worse in her life.  He could tell her what a horrible person he thought she was. She didn’t care.  All she cared about was Stiles.

“I don’t have to cover for anything,” she replied before sitting upright in her chair. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You’re lucky that those 5 other stores didn’t have working security cameras,” he informed her.  “But like I told you, we have you on camera.  Both of you.”

“I was at the store, yeah. I told the cops before that I was in buying a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes. I was sitting outside smoking when those two people walked in.  If you have camera footage then you have me leaving the store and them coming in after I left.  You don’t have anything on me.  Can I go now?”

It was true that she had gone into the store to buy the water and cigarettes.  She didn’t smoke, but she needed the cashier to see her face.  He needed to see her purchase something and leave. When she left she hurried out to where Stiles waited inside of Boyd’s van.  She changed out of the clothes she was wearing and into a pair of dark skinny jeans and a black hoodie. She had slipped on a plastic mask over her face before pulling the hood over her long hair.

“No. You can’t.”

“Are you harassing everyone who was in the store today or is it just me?”

“We’re talking to everyone who was still on the scene, like you.  We’re talking to people who were on camera. Like you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” she shouted and slammed her fists against the table. She knew she was beginning to lose her cool but she had better things to be doing right now.  She needed to get out of here.

“For some reason I just don’t believe you.” His voice was calmer, like now he was going to play the good cop.  But she wasn’t about to fall for it.  “I know that you care about him.  But you know that if he were in here he would tell us all about you.  So why are you letting him let you take the fall?”

She now felt irritated.  No body understood her relationship with Stiles.  Never under any circumstances would he abandon her, not even when it was the right thing to do.  He would have never turn on her.  She hated this man for implying that.  But she kept her mouth shut. 

“He wasn’t even there.”

“He didn’t show up for work today,” he told her.  “We talked to his boss and nobody’s heard from him.  But I’m guessing you have. You live together. We talked to your landlord.”

“Great,” she replied, her tone sarcastic.  “But I don’t know where he is.”


Stiles sat slouched on the red pleather booth seat absentmindedly spinning a knife on the dingy metal table.  His eyes stayed glued to her as she traveled about the diner.  Her hair was pulled into a neat bun on the top of her head and she was dressed in her vintage, light blue uniform. She smiled at the customers she served, she laid on the charm, making them laugh and smile along with her.  That was how she drew in the big tips.  But being charming wasn’t something she really needed to fake.  She was good at it anyway.

She dropped off another order before making her way over to the table he currently occupied.  Across from him sat Boyd, one of the few people they had let into their lives since running away from home.  He lived on the floor below them and got Stiles the job at the shop.  He was a nice guy with a bad habit.  He’d been hook on drugs and alcohol since he was 15.

Smiling as she stopped next to the table she took in Stiles appearance.  He was dressed in a dingy white t-shirt, covered in oil stains, and his navy blue cover-alls were tied off at the waist.  His black work boots were on his feet and he looked tired.  They were all tired. Boyd was dressed similarly with a black baseball hat backwards on his head. He sipped a beer while waiting for his order. 

“I’ll get your food out to you guys soon,” she informed them.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiled. “I just told your man here I think I can get my hands on a piece for you guys for the next hit.”

Y/N looked nervously around the diner, making sure no one had heard him. She ran her hand over the back of her neck before looking back at him.  “Great.  How much do we owe you for that?”

“Nothing,” he replied, “just promise when you guys get out of this shit hole there’s a spot for me in the back of that Jeep.”

Stiles smiled and nodded his head.  “Absolutely.”

Y/N turned her attention back to Stiles before placing her hand on the back of his neck and lightly scratching her nails along his skin. She could tell by the look on his face that he was exhausted and in desperate need of sleep.  This whole thing had been taking a big toll on him and she knew it.  Leaving Beacon Hills had changed him, protecting her had changed him, but under the exterior he put up she knew he was still the same boy who just wanted to do right.  But sometimes in life you can’t always do the right thing.

“You ok?” she asked, quietly.

“Tired,” he responded.  “Thinking about how nice that hotel bed will feel tonight.”

She smiled again.  After the first 2 stores they decided to put off some money, just enough to get them a nice room in a hotel in the city.  For one night they decided they would treat themselves.  The rest of the money would go to getting them the hell out of here.  But until then, they wanted just a taste of the finer things in life.  To some people spending a night in a nice hotel might not seem like a big deal, for them it was monumental.

Leaning towards her he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her body close to his side. From his seated position he looked up at her face and he could already tell she was thinking about the hotel.  She deserved a good night and he wanted to give it to her.  She broke out of her thoughts a few seconds later before placing a kiss on the top of his head.  “My shifts over in 30 minutes,” she told him, “then we can go.”

He nodded his head before shifting his attention to the other side of the diner.  A table full of college aged guys were staring at her and it didn’t sit well with Stiles.  When she had taken a step back from the table Stiles picked up the knife again, keeping his eyes on them.  He was always protective of her and there was a part of him that wanted those guys to know she was his. 

“Let me go check on your order,” she said, excusing herself from the table.

He kept an eye on her and Boyd spoke up. “You look like a stalker.”

Stiles laughed a little.  “Just keeping an eye on her.”

As she retreated from the kitchen with their plates of food Stiles heard one of the guys at the far table shout out to her that she had a great ass.  “Why don’t you let me take you out later and you and I can get better acquainted?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and continued across the restaurant, choosing to ignore his question.  She was used to guys hitting on her at work.  Didn’t mean it was ok, but it is what it is.  She placed the two plates of food in front of Stiles and Boyd before the guy’s voice rang out through the diner again.

“Look, Bitch.  When I talk to a woman I don’t like to get ignored.”

Instead of turning her attention to the asshole on the other side of the room her eyes shot straight to Stiles.  She watched the fire in his eyes burn brighter before he shot up from the booth.  She reached out for his arm, hoping to pull him back to her but it was too late.  He was already stalking towards their table.  When he reached them he grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt before pulling him out of his seat and throwing him to the floor.

“Stiles!” she yelled and ran over to him.  He was already a few punches in when she grabbed his arm.  “Stiles! Stop it, he’s not worth it!”

Everyone in the diner watched the scene play out in front of them, too dumbfounded to truly comprehend what was going on. She had wedged herself between Stiles and the man on the floor and she pushed at his chest.  “Go outside,” she commanded and after a few seconds Stiles angry eyes met hers. “Go.”

He let out an angry breath before turning towards the doors.  When he was gone Y/N looked over to where her manager stood, near the kitchen.  She mouthed an apology before hurrying towards the doors.  When she walked outside she saw him standing near the end of the sidewalk, gripping his hair in both hands.  “Stiles?”

He turned to face her before dropping his hands.  “You should have let me kick his ass.”

“Why?” she questioned.  “He’s not worth it, he’s not worth anything.  That’s why I was ignoring him.”

“He doesn’t get to talk to you like that,” he shook his head, “it’s not ok.”

She grabbed his hands and pulled his body close to hers.  “We can’t afford to get in any trouble right now.  You need to get out of here in case the cops show up.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be ok,” she replied with a smile.  “I’ll meet you back at the apartment soon and we can go.  We’ll have a great night together and you’ll forget about all of this.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed before wrapping his arms around her.  “I shouldn’t have lost it like that.”

She cupped his cheeks in her hands and pulled his face down to hers before placing her lips on his.  She felt his breathing steady before he kissed her back.  The way his lips moved over hers, she would swear that he was made to kiss her.  If she could kiss him for the rest of her life she would be a happy girl.  When they pulled away she looked him in the eye.  “It’s just you and me, Baby.”

“It’s always you and me,” he replied before pecking her lips again.  He gave her one last smile before taking off in the direction of his parked Jeep.  A few seconds later Boyd walked out of the diner and said his goodbyes before chasing after his friend.  She watched him drive off, thanking God that things inside hadn’t been worse. 


“That watch looks a little bit big on you.”

Y/N looked down at her wrist before placing her right hand over the time piece.  “I haven’t had time to get it sized.”

“Looks like a man’s watch to me.”

She rolled her eyes. There was no point in trying to convince this detective of anything, he never believed her anyway.  At this point she was happy to keep her mouth shut.  She had nothing to say to him.  He was hoping to get her to trip up and admit to something, but she was smarter than that.  She had one good reason to get out of here so she wasn’t going to fuck it up and say something to get herself, or God forbid, Stiles in trouble.

“Is that clasp broken?” he questioned, “looked like it wasn’t staying closed.”

“Is any of this relevant to anything or are you just trying to make small talk? Cuz I can make small talk if you want.  Wow. You have a great watch, too! What is it? A Rolex?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair again.  She was getting really tired of him.  She needed to get out of here. Stiles needed her.


“Don’t wait more than 5 minutes before you go back in,” Boyd said, sitting in the front seat of his truck.  Today he was going to be their getaway driver. “You have to make it look like Y/N’s long gone by the time you show up.  Make sure you make eye contact with the cashier, smile a lot, be real friendly.”

“Not too friendly,” Stiles spoke up. “Like, don’t be creepy or anything.”

Y/N laughed. “This isn’t the first time we’ve done this, ya know?”

They were parked in an alley just a few blocks from the store, once again going over the plan.  Like she had said, this wasn’t their first time.  But they did this each time.  Make sure you make eye contact.  Be friendly.  Do you know where the security cameras are? Make sure you’re seen when you go in.  Avoid looking at them when you back in.  Simple stuff.  They knew it all at this point.

“Here,” Boyd started before pulling out a 9 millimeter handgun.  He handed it to Stiles, “hopefully you won’t have to use it.  But it’s an actual weapon this time.  Better than pretending you have a gun when you don’t.”

That’s what they’d been doing so far.  It had been working, but Y/N was worried that one day they would go in and need something to protect themselves and they would be left empty handed.  But not anymore.  This was the last hit and she wanted them to be protected.  She couldn’t risk anything happening to Stiles.

Stiles fiddled with the clasp on his watch.  The damn thing was broken and he hadn’t had time to get it fixed.  He knew he should take it off, but somehow that seemed like bad luck.  The watch was a gift from his dad and he hated going anywhere without it. When he looked up again, Y/N was watching him with serious eyes. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Y/N stated before hopping out of the truck.  She turned around once more and smiled at Stiles before beginning her short walk towards the store.  Her heart wasn’t even pounding.  The first time they’d done it she was so nervous she thought she might throw up.  She just needed to keep reminding herself this was just a means to an end.

When she reached the store she grabbed the metal, door handle and walked into the air conditioned store.  The manager behind the counter barely acknowledged her presence.  She casually walked around the store, stopping at the rack of magazines.  Glancing up towards the ceiling she saw a camera in the far left corner near the door that faced directly where she stood.  She grabbed a magazine off the rack before walking back towards the freezers.

There were cameras on either end of the aisle that stared down at her. She pulled open one of the doors and grabbed a bottle of cold water before beginning her walk towards the counter.  She placed her items in front of her and cleared her throat.  “Can I also get a pack of Marlboros?”

He finally looked up at her and eye-balled her.  “You’re at least 18, right?”

She smiled, “definitely.”

He slid the pack over to her before ringing up the rest of her items.  She pushed cash across the counter towards him before thanking him.  “Have a good one,” she smiled before walking back towards the door.  She pushed it open before walking back out into the hot, California heat.  Unscrewing the bottle of water she took a long sip before closing it once more. 

She spotted the truck just across the street near an alley and she checked traffic before jogging towards it. Tossing her stuff into the back of the truck she hurried around to the other side before reaching for a small bag in the back. Pulling it open she pulled out a pair of black, skinny jeans.  Pushing down her denim shorts she haphazardly threw them into the back of the truck before pulling on the jeans.  She pulled on black hoodie as well before zipping it up. 

Stiles walked around the other side of the truck and stopped in front of her.  “Ready?”

“Just about.”

He was standing in front of her in a pair of dark jeans and a black hoodie, much like her.  He wore a navy blue baseball hat over his hair and she smiled when she watched him tie a bandana around his mouth.  His eyes were barely visible under the dark bill of the hat. He lifted up the hem of his sweatshirt revealing the gun in the waistband of his jeans.  This felt more real somehow.

Reaching into her bag she pulled out a plastic mask, it was the face of a doll.  She slipped it over her face before pulling up her hood.  “I’m ready when you are.”

“You guys better go,” Boyd called from the front of the truck. “I’ll be waiting.”

Stiles nodded his head before stepping towards her again.  He gripped the side of her mask before lifting it slightly, just enough to reveal her mouth.  He pressed a kiss to her lips through the material of his bandana.  “Let’s do it, Doll Face.”

They walked around the back of the truck and towards the street.  He reached his left hand out towards her before interlocking their fingers.  They jogged across the street to the front of the store.  When she pulled the door open again it only took a few seconds for the manager and the 5 other customers in the store to realize what was happening. 

“Get on the floor!” Stiles shouted at the customers and they watched as they obeyed him, quickly.  Y/N knew that he would never hurt anyone there, but he sure did a good job at acting like he might.  “Don’t anyone fucking move.”

Stiles pulled the gun out from his waistband and the startled gasp of the customers echoed in their ears.  Y/N walked up to the counter before demanding that the manager give them all of the cash from the register and safe.  With shaky hands he opened the register and pulled out the cash.  He pushed it towards her and she grabbed it before shoving it in the large pockets of her sweatshirt.  “Now the safe!” she yelled, her voice muffled by her mask.

She turned her head to look back at Stiles who still held the gun in his hand, making sure that no one tried anything.  When she looked back at the manager she saw him still standing in his original spot.  “Get the money out of the safe!” she yelled and stepped closer to the counter.  “Don’t make me tell you again.”

The shout of a child startled everyone out of their daze.  Y/N and Stiles both looked over at the door quickly to see a young girl who had wandered into the store.  She distracted them long enough for Stiles to drop his arm that held the gun.  But seconds later the sound of gunfire rang out through the store.

Y/N’s head shot back in the direction of the manager behind the counter.  He held a gun in his hand, the smoke was still billowing out.  In shock he dropped the gun to the ground and stared out at the scene in front of him.  She watched him for a few more seconds before something occurred to her.  Her heart stopped as she turned to see Stiles standing a few feet away with his hand pressing into the right side of his torso.  Blood covered his hand where he’d been shot.


She hurried over to him, the thoughts of the money completely gone. She draped his arm over her shoulder, helping to keep him on his feet.  People were screaming in fear and she reached for the gun that dangled from Stiles hand.  Taking it in her hand she pointed it at the man behind the counter.  She was seeing red.  She pulled back the safety and aimed it towards him, but her finger was shaky on the trigger. 

“Don’t do it,” Stiles whispered in her ear.

Her breathing was ragged as she stared at the man in front of her.  Finally she put the safety back on before dropping her hand.  “Fuck,” she mumbled.  “We need to get out of here.”

Without a second thought they hurried towards the door, as fast as they could.  In her ear she could hear Stiles stifling back the sounds of pain that were threatening to escape his mouth.  When they finally made it out to the parking lot she yelled for Boyd, hoping he could hear her from across the street.

He sped across the street and over the sidewalk until he neared them.  He threw open the door and Y/N helped Stiles into the passenger seat before stripping out of her sweatshirt. She pressed it into his wound.  “Keep pressure on it,” she told him.  “You need to stop the bleeding.”

“We need to get out of here,” Boyd told them.

“Wait,” Stiles mumbled, “my watch.”

“What?” Y/N asked. 

“I lost my watch,” he told her.  “I had it on when we went in.  It’s gone.”

“Forget about the fucking watch,” Boyd said.

“It has my name on it,” he told them. “It’s a gift from my dad.”

The sounds of sirens were heard in the distance and they began to get louder.  “Shit!” Y/N mumbled and gripped her hair before looking up at the two guys.  “Get him out of here.”

“Where are you going?” Boyd questioned.

“I have to get his watch.”

She turned around quickly but Stiles yelled out after her.  “Y/N, don’t!”

When she looked back at him she could tell he was pale from the loss of blood and he needed to get out of here and get help.  “Hey,” she yelled back.  “It’s me and you, remember?” He didn’t say anything and before running back towards the store she smiled.  “I love you, Stiles.”


The sounds of the tires on the asphalt echoed behind her as she ran back into the store.  It was total chaos and she slipped in without anyone really realizing that she hadn’t been there before.  Her eyes darted around the store, looking for his watch.  Police sirens were now blaring in her ears and she looked over her shoulder to see 3 patrol cars pull into the parking lot.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the pool of Stiles blood.  But near the bottom of one of the shelves just next to it, something shiny caught her eye. His watch.  Running over to it she dropped to her knees and grabbed it and tried to think of a way that she would get out of there.  When the cops came busting through the doors, she knew she was caught.


“You could have made it out when he did, but you came back.  Why?”

“I didn’t go back.  I was already there. We’ve been over this.”

He sighed and sat down in the chair across from her.  “You’re really willing to take all the blame for this when you know that you weren’t the only one there.  You weren’t even the one with the gun.  From what we understand you didn’t have weapons in the first 4 robberies.  You can make a deal.”

“I’m not sure if you’re stupid or if you’re just choosing to not hear me,” she began and leaned in closer to him.  “I was there to buy a few things and when I was in the parking lot that couple came in and robbed the store.  I just want it to see if everyone was ok after they left.”

The door to the interrogation room opened and another man walked in.  “We have to cut her loose.”

“What?” the detective asked.  “You’re shitting me.”

“We don’t have her face on camera during the robbery.  The footage is too blurry and the girls wearing a mask.  There’s not much we can do.  You’re free to go.”

She thought she was dreaming.  Before anymore could be said she pushed past the two men and ran out the door.  Looking down the hall she took off running.  She wasn’t sure what she was going to do when she got outside, she didn’t have a car or a phone.  There had to be something she could do to get ahold of Boyd.

When she finally made it outside it was dark out.  She had been at the station for hours.  She jogged down the steps before stopping on the sidewalk.  Looking left and right she tried to think of where she might go but the sound of a car horn caught her attention.  Looking across the street she saw a familiar blue Jeep.

Taking off again she hurried towards the vehicle and when she saw him she almost cried tears of joy. He opened the driver’s side door and she saw him dressed in a dark gray button up.  The buttons however, were undone and she could see the bandages around his waist from where he’d been shot.  He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into his arms, ignoring the pain from the contact to his wounds.  He didn’t care.  He just needed to hold her.

“You’re crazy,” he told her.  “You shouldn’t have gone back in for that fucking watch.”

She lifted her left arm and pulled off the oversized watch before handing it to him.  “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Are we getting out of here anytime soon?”

Y/N smiled when she saw Boyd sitting in the backseat.  “We have all of your shit already packed and he’ll be fine but we need to get the hell out of here.”

“And where are we going?” she questioned, looking back and forth between the both of them.

“We were thinking North.  Oregon or Washington.  We can start over and actually do things right this time.”

She ran her hands over her face.  “Stiles. I don’t want to keep dragging you down.  You should get out of here and go back to your life.  I don’t want to keep fucking things up for you.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Y/N, it’s you and me.  I’m all in. Now get in the car because we need to get out of here.”

She couldn’t help the smile that took over her lips.  Even when she wanted him to go, to get things right for himself she knew he wasn’t leaving her.  It had always been the two of them against the world and she knew it would always be that way.  No matter what life threw at her she would always have Stiles by her side.

She opened the door to the passenger side before climbing up into the Jeep.  Buckling her seatbelt she listened to the sound of the engine starting.  As he pulled out into the street, out in the direction of their new lives, he reached over and took her hand in his.  “Hey,” he started and she looked over at him.  He glanced at her with a small smile. “In case I’ve never said it.  I love you.”

So for some reason I’m really nervous about posting this.  Stiles is such an important character to me and I’m so worried about not doing him justice.  I don’t know… I’d love to hear some opinions on this.  

Imagine an au where Chat Noir can actually cleanse akumas.

No, it’s not that innocent.

Whenever he cleanses an akuma, or use cataclysm on something living, his suit becomes one shade of gray lighter. Whenever it gets lighter, his morality gets slightly more twisted and evil, until he’s a monster when it’s pure white.

Submitted by Anonymous

Creepypasta #712: She Was Always The Most Normal

Story length: Super long

I have a friend named Jen. She isn’t remarkably pretty, kind of short, and just on the side of obese. She has torn ligaments in both knees, and, as a result, walks slowly. She’s an enormous nerd, would rather spend her evenings playing video games or table top card games than going out on the town. She’s slow to anger, quick to smile, and all around, people like her. As my name is James, and we’re pretty close, she and I are often referred to by our friends as “J Squared.” I always say that you’re not really best friends unless everyone thinks your dating, and we’ve certainly got that part of our friendship covered.

I met Jen in my first year of college, in the student lounge. Her voice carries, high and a bit obnoxious on first listen, then comforting when you get to know her. You can almost always tell if Jen is in a place simply because you’ll here her first.

I should take the time now to mention her eyes; they’re a shifting hazel, sometimes blue, sometimes green, sometimes grey, depending both on her mood and what she is wearing. Darking colors will bring out the blue and the green, depending on the shade; lighter colors will bring out the gray. The only constant is the faint ring of gold around the iris.

It was late one Tuesday evening, some alcohol had been consumed, and there was about five of us, including Jen and myself, gathered casually to play games and talk shit, when the suggestion was made we all take a trip to that old abandoned house.

I won’t waste time on describing the house, other than to say it had two stories; every town has a house like it, one that had been abandoned for quite some time, there were rumors of death and ghosts and other such nonsense all around it, and it was something of a ritual for young adults and teens to break in and test their metal.

Everyone else, including myself, seemed to think this was a great idea, except Jen. She was the most verbal proponent, arguing that someone had died in that house just six months ago; it was true, it had been all over the news. Some kid had gone in alone as a test of bravery, and was supposed to be in there only an hour; when he didn’t emerge in the time allotted, the authorities had been called, and they found him dead, spine snapped like a twig. 

The official ruling had been that he’d fallen down the stairs somehow, but there were rumblings there was no evidence of that being the case; that he had been found far away from the stairs he could have fallen on.

But, as the majority overruled her, she had grudgingly come along, the whole ride trying to convince us all to go somewhere else; the cemetary, the old historic cemetary one town over, anywhere except that house.

But we didn’t listen to here, and soon enough, we all found ourselves at the house, flashlights and phones in hands as we crept along through the bottom of the house.

“Do NOT seperate,” Jen warned, and there was enough command in her voice, and we accepted her as leader enough to stick close, no more than a foot between any of us as we moved from room to room.

For ten minutes, nothing happened other than us giggling between each other, and Jen, at my side, seemed to relax a little.

Then the skittering started.

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Man i’ve seen a lot of analysis of why the Berserk 2016 anime is godawful, but I have yet to see one that talks about how dreadful the color palette and the lightings is, because I swear to god makes the 3d models look flatter than a cardboard cutout.

Allow me to elaborate.

In most of tha main characters the color palette used for the base colors is fine, like for example the pretty primary colors used for Serpico and Farnese look good, the light earth tones in Isidro fit, and the catholic red and white colors for Mozgus and the dark earth tones for the inquisistors are a given, but extrangely, the black tones in Guts outfit seem off in broad daylight or with a strong lighting in them, let’s try to explain that…

(Disclaimer, most of the things I talk about color is bacuse when I draw I honestly suck at it)

The Black Swordsman isn’t really that black.

The nickname of the Black Swordsman is the nickname given for Guts because he is clad in an all black armor, with all black clothes isn’t it…


I mean, in canon, yes it is, and in the black and white illustrations that’s the case, but Miura, and pretty much any other person that has worked with Berserk in color has given Guts a more variated palette, using, grays, dark blues, dark greens, or dark brown, making it easier to the eye and still giving the ilusion that he is wearing black. In this anime is mostly black, and gray for his undershirt, I guess, and metalized black, making an already awkard model look even more awkard.

On other part that I see lacking in the palette is in the backgrounds, making most of them really, really bland. I get it, most of this season took place in a refugee camp in a wasteland next to a pretty shoddy monastry, put c’mon, the way it is makes the characters look like they’re greenscreened there bacause tha lighting in niether of them fit.

Oh yes, I forgot to talk about the horrible use of lighting this series has most of the time. It’s flat, it’s pretty fucking flat. They will use the same lighting scheme no matter the time of the day, no matter the place, no matter the lighting source. There are no higlights, there are no stronger shadows, there are no lighter shadows, it’s either a brown shade or a gray shade, and the textured crosshatching doesn’t cover it in the slightest.

The first one is Guts in the middle of the night , in a cave with a fucking torch next to him, and he has the same tone for lighting used in the second image, wich is in broad daylight.

I dunno how to end this properly, so I’ll summerize the best that I can how I feel. Berserk 2016 is bad, a special kind of bad, the we did this half hearted kind of bad, beacuse that’s what I feel when I look at it, it feels half-assed to the death, from character models, to animation, to shot, to lighting, to scripting, it feels like they didn’t put real effort into this, so if they didn’t put effort into making it, why should I put effort into watching it. 

Also reminder that this was made with almost half a million dollars more than One Punch Man. Like HOW IN THE WORLD COULD YOU DO THIS WITH THAT BUDGET?