Pairing: Grayson Dolan X Reader Requested: Yes Warning: Fluff Word Count: 1,206 Prompts/Blurbs: 7, 17, 30, 35, 37, 41 A/N: Enjoy!
You were at the twin’s apartment for your annual “Friday movie night” which consisted of you, Ethan, Grayson; and joining you this week, Jack. The movie had ended and Grayson had just gone up to his room while you were getting ready to leave when it all of a sudden started to rain. Ethan, being the sweet boy he is, insisted that you stayed the night seeing as Jack was and that it was too dangerous for you to drive in the rain so late at night. You complied and thanked him, hugging him goodnight before settling yourself down on one of the couches in the living room.
It had been about an hour since you had laid down to go to sleep, but the rain had progressively gotten worse. Ever since you were young, you’d always been terrified of storms. A bright flash of lightning aluminated the living room of the apartment, followed by a deep rumble of thunder. You pulled the sheet over your head and squeezed your tear filled eyes shut in hopes to tune out the storm. You were not only shaking in terror, but from being cold as well. You watched as Jack slept soundly from his position on the couch across from you, silently cursing him for taking the only extra blanket.
You got up wiping your eyes, deciding you’ve had enough. You crept up the stairs and made your way towards Ethan’s room. You grasped the door handle, only to find it was locked, only meaning one thing.
“Wow, motherfucker was jerking off while having guest’s over. Classic Ethan.” You scoffed quietly and tiptoed down the hallway towards Grayson’s room. You hesitantly placed your hand on the door knob, rethinking whether you should enter or just go back downstairs. You’ve always had a crush on Grayson. Ever since you met him two years ago at the small diner you worked at, you’ve been head over heels for him. You and he had a very flirty friendship, and Ethan swears to the Bible that he liked you too, but you didn’t believe him and see it only as Grayson being his friendly self.
An uproar of thunder brought you out of your thoughts and you quickly squeezed yourself into Grayson’s room. You shut the door behind you and used the flashlight on your phone to guide you over to where Grayson laid, curled up in his comforter. You walked over to him and shook him gently multiple times, causing him to groan and open his eyes.
“Y/N? What are you doing?” He asked groggily, his muscular upper body now exposed as he sat up.
Your eyes widened at the sound of his deep, raspy voice and the view his built figure.
“Uhm, I can’t sleep. Can I stay here? I’ll sleep on the floor, it doesn’t matter. I just don’t feel safe down there…” You spoke quietly. You felt your cheeks heat up, thankfully your flashlight was pointed at Grayson and not you.
“Yeah, I don’t mind. And you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you sleep on the floor,” He chuckled, “Go grab one of my tee shirts to put on. I know for a fact you won’t be able to sleep in those jeans.”
“Thank you, for everything. I really appreciate it, Gray.” You gushed sweetly while scurrying over to his dresser. You opened up his middle drawer and grabbed the first tee shirt you saw which was a simple plain white one. You hurriedly took off your top and jeans and threw the shirt on being engulfed by his intoxicating smell, folding your clothes and putting them in a small pile on his floor.
“Not that I mind you sleeping in here, but why are you?” He asked as you walked towards the opposite side of the bed, turning off your phone and placing it on his nightstand.
Just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, a roll of thunder occurred causing you to jump in fright and tears to well up in your eyes once again. You watched as Grayson slyly smiled, shaking his head.
“I don’t even know why I asked. I forgot you were scared of storms.”
You got under the covers, trying to keep your whimpering to yourself. You let out a deep breath as you shut your eyes, rubbing your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up. You were beyond embarrassed that you were crying in his presence, especially because of something so silly.
“C’mere,I’ll keep you warm.I can literally feel you shivering.” You heard Grayson mumble from the other side of the bed.
You felt the bed shift beside you and Grayson’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. Your chest met his as he brought your head into the crook of his neck, entangling your legs together. Another flash of lightning appeared and the rumble of thunder sounded throughout the air, causing you to cry even harder.
“Shh, Don’t be afraid. I got you, Y/N.”
Your body immediately relaxed despite your continual sniffling. After a good five minutes of Grayson’s attempt to comfort you, you calmed down and snuggled farther into him, in which he tightened his grip on you and pulled you as close as possible.
“You make me feel safe, you know.” You whispered, pulling away from his chest so you could look at his face which was barely visible in the dark room.
He looked down and gave you a humble smile, “Do I really?”
You nodded your head in response as your eyes locked with his softly.
“Can I kiss you?” He blurted out, taking you by surprise and leaving you speechless.
You were at a loss for words, so the only thing you could do was smile and nod your head, to which Grayson leaned in, pressing his soft plump lips to yours.
He rolled you both over so that you were underneath him, his hand pressed against your jaw as he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip. You complied and parted your lips slightly, giving him the access he wanted. You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging gently making him groan. You basked in this moment, feeling more than content as your lips moved together.
Eventually, you both pulled away and he rested his forehead against yours. Your panting was the only thing to be heard in the room besides the patter of rain against the window.
You cleared your throat as you played with the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, “Well, that was unexpected.”
He smiled and leaned in, placing a kiss on your forehead before rolling off of you.
“I guess it was. I’ve been wanting to do that for so long, you have no idea.”
You giggled, hiding your face in his chest, “Oh trust me, I do. If anything, I’ve probably been wanting to do that a lot longer than you have.”
You felt him rest his head against yours, “So does that mean you won’t mind if I officially call you my girlfriend from now on?” He asked shyly, running his fingers through your hair.
“Not at all baby, not one bit.” You hummed contently while falling asleep in Grayson’s arms, no longer caring about the storm that was rumbling outside.
Overview: It’s junior year and Riley’s best friend develops a crush on her first love, Lucas. Not wanting to stand in between them she lies and says she’s okay with them being together. As it turns out, Lucas has an older trouble making brother that none of his friends knew about. One that just so happens to take an interest in Riley. Author’s Notes: In this AU, the triangle never happened and Farkle never outed Riley’s true feelings. [Italics indicate flashbacks.] Previous Chapters:1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 Chapter Seven: “Hustle.” Word Count: 2,612
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In the aftermath of Riley confronting Jackson he decides he has a lot to make up for. He was tired of letting the people he cares about down so he wanted to do right by her and because she wanted a taste of what life is like when you don’t play by the rules he had the perfect plan.
When the following Friday rolls around Riley waits for her parents to fall asleep before sneaking out her bay window and meeting up with him a block away from her apartment. She knew it was risky behavior considering her and her parents had just established an understanding with each other but she wasn’t done being careless.
On this day in music history: June 30, 1980 - “The Game”, the eighth studio album by Queen is released. Produced by Reinhold Mack and Queen, it is recorded at Musicland Studios in Munich, Germany from June - July 1979, February - May 1980. Having parted ways with longtime producer Roy Thomas Baker, Queen begin working with German producer and engineer Reinhold Mack (credited as “Mack”) on their next album. Also opting for a change of locale, the band record at Giorgio Moroder’s Musicland Studios in Munich, Germany, recording on and off for the next eleven months. Sporting a more streamlined, pop oriented sound than their previous album “Jazz”, it becomes the bands biggest selling album in the US. It spin off three singles including the chart toppers “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” and “Another One Bites The Dust”. Original vinyl LP pressings feature the album jacket printed with an aluminized “silver foil” finish that is discontinued on later copies of the album in order to save on manufacturing costs. The original UK EMI CD feature an alternate cover photo with drummer Roger Taylor and guitarist Brian May striking slightly different poses. As well as being a musical departure from their previous work, it also sees lead singer Freddie Mercury undergoing a dramatic image makeover during this period. Mercury cuts his once shoulder length hair (at times sporting a mustache) and eschewing his more flamboyant stage costumes for jeans, white T-shirts and tank tops. The album is most recently remastered and reissued on CD 2011, containing a second disc featuring live tracks, B-sides and a demo track. It is also reissued as a 180 gram vinyl LP in 2016. “The Game” spends five weeks at number one on the Billboard Top 200, and is certified 4x Platinum in the US by the RIAA.
She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see the mask, silvery at the edges in the light and too much like an expression. It would be so easy, she thought, easy to shoot him and take her revenge.
Instead she found herself stepping back, giving him enough room to stand. The respirator emitted its cool exhale, and she listened to its rise, its otherworldly ping.
Then the harsh, consistently ragged inhale. Leia heard the creak of leather, the rustle of polyester, the sound of aluminized coating folding and unfolding.
When she opened her eyes again, he towered over her. The mask was angled only partly down, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.
She lifted her chin, looking as straight into the eyes as she could. Shadow tinted them black, hiding the true sockets she had sometimes glimpsed as dark crescents beneath.
“Come on then,” she said.
He inclined his head to the side. She told herself he wasn’t bemused - as she most certainly wasn’t - by the lack of snap to her tone.
The mask lowered fully; she recognized the approximation of a nod. “Very well.”
Leia was glad for the return of feeling, of anger. “Don’t sound so pleased,” she said.
The blaster made its weight felt as she hoisted it with the barrel casually pointed towards his chest. She turned a grimace into a shield. “We’re behind schedule.”
He straightened - she hadn’t realized he was stooping for her benefit, someone needed to remove a good foot or so of his inches - and lifted the mask, removing all but edges and neck from her sight. A finger rose and pointed.
“There is no schedule.”
That wasn’t the point. Feeling her eyes narrow, she jerked her head in the direction of the blast doors. “Maybe we would’ve had more time if you hadn’t gotten us locked in here!”
“A minor inconvenience,” he said. The final syllable had coincided with an inhale. No amount of exposure would make that sound any less uncanny, especially when he shook a finger at her when it happened. “One that has served you well. It is only because of my distraction that you were able to throw me into a wall with the Force.”
(could’ve pulled the trigger why didn’t you)
“I thought there was a bomb,” she said, wishing she could see his mask. The key to a convincing lie was to make eye contact, and it threw her off to not have the opportunity. “Clearly I was mistaken. The important thing now is to get us out of here!”
She saw him stiffen at the same moment she realized her misstep. Her voice had come out just an edge too hysterical.
Suddenly he seemed even taller and more immovable, the air in the room thinner, the mask darkly incomprehensible.
“Your anger makes you strong,” he said.
If there was expression in his voice, Leia couldn’t hear it.
She didn’t have to. Obviously he was satisfied - his voice boomed with conviction. “Already your powers have increased.”
He stepped forward while raising his head even higher, forcing her to drop hers - there was no point in craning her neck back that far, and she needed to see how many steps he’d take into her space.
She found herself backtracking. Vader had always been mercurial, and the shift in his mood should not have been unexpected, but she’d thought they were past the intimidation tactics.
Worse, they still worked. She almost longed for those seconds before, when the atmosphere had been staticky with cautious hope. Next time she’d - just let him have it, she thought.
“This isn’t convincing me.”
The respirator seemed to respond, its mechanism silent. Then came the horrible, broken inhale, and he stepped forward once again - far too close, close enough she could smell the faint reek of decay. She looked at boots the size of her torso and down at herself and realized she was close to dropping her blaster, that her hands had broken out in a sweat. That they were shaking.
The pang of fear was what did it.
Vader halted before her with ease, as though this was precisely what he’d always intended. She couldn’t help but wonder if saying the word earlier would have been effective. Curiosity warred with outrage, and she found herself looking to the mask.
Though they stood but inches apart, he couldn’t seem more distant. The mask had yet to fall from its lofty angle, leaving her with nothing she could read.
(she knew he - felt things. toppling him expecting rage, she’d found him motionless and resigned.
a little pathetic, honestly.)
“Look,” she said without thinking, only to realize she’d followed a gut instinct to be truthful. “I thought about killing you. I didn’t. Okay? I could have and I didn’t. Now that’s all I’m going to say about it, and we have things to do here, so how about we just move along and focus on our plan. All right?”
That cool exhale, soft until it snapped like air trapped in her ears.
He was too still. It made her afraid.
How she hated that inhale.
Then she felt it - a kind of lessening of tension in her center. The mask fell at the same time, its surface slipping through light like some thin, writhing creature.
She met the eyes, now bright with the glare of reflection. Impossible as it was to tell, he seemed to gaze back.
“As you wish.”
Leia flinched; he’d laid a hand on her shoulder. The weight wasn’t what surprised her; on the contrary, it appeared she hadn’t expected corporeality. A being composed purely of shadows and spite should dissipate when touched.
“Daughter,” he added.
He said it like a threat and a promise. She took in a sharp breath and ground her back teeth. Rejecting him nowwas surely out of the question, certainly until he forgot about the - near attempt at murder. He was very good at forgetting, she told herself.
Still, it took effort not to duck away and stick her blaster to his controls. “You know how I feel about that word, Anakin.”
That had been inspired, she thought.
Even as the air between them soured, Leia could enjoy the giddy rush of scoring a hit. The mask seemed to retreat under the cover of the helmet, driving all but the protruding segments into darkness, and she felt her eyes narrow with satisfaction, her lips become rippled and hard.
His hand fell off her shoulder. Then he was sweeping past her to the door.
“Truly you are my child,” he said.
His voice reminded her of deathstick ash, of that exceptionally bitter smell. She turned and saw his lightsaber ignite. Against his hunched and massive form, the red of the plasma looked monstrous. But for once, she couldn’t fault his plan - it would get them out of here.
(not your daughter)
She watched him plunge the blade into the doors and begin cutting out a circle. There was something mesmerizing about seeing impenetrable durasteel start to glow and melt, and she found herself moving closer.
Vader appeared to have been waiting for her. She felt it in the air between them, even as his mask remained still, facing forward like acknowledging her involved more pain than it was worth -
A/N: This is a Spencer x Reader request where Spencer watches the reader’s makeup routine. @coveofmemories
Pretty much every day of the week started with you getting up slightly earlier than Spencer so you could apply your makeup for the day; it was fairly simple, just concealer under the eyes and on any blemishes you had, a light shade of lipstick, usually pink or nude in color, and a bit of corresponding eye shadow, but one day of the week, usually a weekend, you’d get more in depth. On Sunday mornings, you’d get up earlier than Spencer so he wouldn’t see the face mask you used - it was pretty intense and kind of gross-looking. You wanted to keep some kind of mystery in your relationship, so you thought it best to keep him from seeing that.
As your alarm rang under your pillow, you got up, turning it off before walking into the bathroom and showering. After you got out, you wrapped a towel around yourself and started applying the volcanic face mask you’d become addicted to. You swore by the Boscia aluminizing black mask from Sephora - with one application, your pores were minimized, oil was practically non-existent and your face had a brighter glow.
It was thick and made your face feel ten times its weight, but it worked amazingly well as long as you kept it on for 30 minutes or until it was completely dry - usually between 20 and 25 minutes for you.
You couldn’t do anything until the mask dried, so you pulled out the book you were reading and set a timer. It was nearly fifteen minutes later that you heard footsteps from down the hall. “Morning babe,” Spencer said, turning into the bathroom to see you covered in a mask. “Is that what you do every Sunday morning?”
“Uh-huh,” you replied, feeling the mask tighten as it worked its wonders. You attempted to turn away, not wanting him to see you like that.
“Are you embarrassed?” he asked surprised.
You admitted it. “A little. I know I shouldn’t be.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” he laughed. “I think you look beautiful no matter what you wear…or don’t,” he smirked. “Can I watch the morning routine?” He came into the bathroom to sit down on the bathtub wall.
“I guess,” you said, pulling out the makeup you were going to use for the FBI formal tonight, “if you want to.”
“I’d like to see how you go from being already beautiful to differently beautiful,” he said smiling.
You blushed, pulling out a red lipstick and eyeshadow for your patented smoky eye. “You don’t think I look better with makeup?”
“Not at all,” he said, not missing a beat, “Just different, but just as beautiful.”
You felt at the mask to feel that it was dry, so you started to peel it off gently from the top of your head down to your chin.
“That’s the you I think is beautiful,” he said softly, your face completely bare of any makeup. “You don’t need anything else.”
“Well,” you started, giving him a quick kiss, “Now you can see what goes into making me look like I do for a big party.” First, you picked up the concealer, dabbing it onto a small zit you had at the bottom of your chin. Thankfully, no other zits were to be found, so you wiped the concealer under your eyes. “This is to get rid of the bags under my eyes,” you laughed, using your finger to blend the light mixture into your skin. “I have permanent bags.”
“They’re a sign that you work your ass off,” he said, leaning over to look into the mirror with you, “so I find those beautiful too.” Then he sat down, but not before kissing the top of your head.
Gently, you smiled at him, wondering what you’d done to have the best boyfriend in the world. With the foundation done, you picked up the “Ruby Woo” color of MAC Shadescents that you’d found recently; it was the perfect shade of red for you. It was very matte, so it went well with the shinier eyeshadow you planned on doing. As Spencer looked on, genuinely curious as to how you did your makeup, you traced the outside of your lips with the tip of the lipstick, ensuring that none of it made its way onto the rest of your face. Then, with the outline done, you applied the rest, leaving you with a perfectly kissable set of lips. You puckered at Spencer, stealing a kiss before moving on to the blush.
“Very minimal on the blush for me,” you said, turning towards Spencer with the brush in hand. You wiped the nude colored hue on your cheeks with one motion, using a dry piece of makeup wipe to blend it in. “Otherwise I feel like a clown.”
“You’d be a very sexy clown,” he laughed, picking up the eyeshadow on the counter next and handing it to you. “This next?”
You shook your head, ready to apply the hardest part of your makeup - the smokey eye; it was so hard to get correctly. “Technically, but first I need primer.”
“Primer?” he asked confused. “For your eyes?”
“Yup,” you replied, chuckling at his shocked face. “It helps the eyeshadow set and stay better.” After applying a light coating of primer, you took the palette of eyeshadow, dipping the brush into the silver color and working it into the corners of your eyes. A slightly darker, less shiny shade of silver went in the middle and then an even darker shade of gray. In between each application, you used a fluffy blending brush to get things as smooth as possible.
“It takes this much work for something like this?” Spencer asked, looking at the clock in awe. You’d been sitting there for nearly 20 minutes after having taken the face mask off. “Being a woman sucks.”
You snorted, nearly messing up your eye makeup. “Yes it does. A lot is expected of us. But I only do this for special occasions, some women feel like they have to do it all the time.” Next up was a bit of an orange-brown color in the crease of your eyes that helped to transition the color.
“Will the orange be visible?” he asked. “I feel like orange doesn’t go with your outfit.”
“It doesn’t and it won’t be visible really, it just helps to transition the last shade.”
Getting towards the end of your eyeshadow, you blended in a near black color at the outer corner of your eye. With quick motions, you added a cream color below the eyebrow, a dark green underneath the eye on your eyelid and the dark nearly black color over it. You were going dramatic for tonight’s party. It went well with your plunging red halter dress. “Then I use this black eyeliner to make wings,” you said. That was the easiest part for you, you had steady hands - the rest was just tedious. “And finally,” you said, taking a deep breath, “some pencil on the water line to make my eyes pop.”
Once you’d finished everything, you turned towards Spencer, face finished and ready for the party in a few hours. “Complete it with a plunging red dress and you get to walk into this party with me,” you laughed.
Standing up from the bathtub, he grabbed your hand, asking if you wanted him to make you something to eat. “Absolutely, I’m starving,” you said, grabbing your stomach. The makeup had taken a bit longer than you thought. “How do I look?”
The PAGEOS (PAssive Geodetic Earth Orbiting Satellite) during a test inflation in a blimp hangar at Weeksville, NC, USA, 5 August 1965.
The satellite was a 30,5 m (100’)-diameter inflatable sphere made of 0.5-mil thick aluminized polyethylene terephthalate (PET) plastic. As a “balloon” it carried no instrumentation, and merely served as a reflective tracking and photographic target.
It was in a near-polar orbit with an altitude of about 2600 miles, much higher than the more familiar and similar ECHO satellites.
It was launched in 1966, and in 1975 it broke up into many small pieces (some of these are still in orbit, and useful for observing solar radiation pressure because of their extremely light weight).
Junkenstein is gonna have some seriously cool effects and details to him. All hail the power of science!!
This is Strontium Aluminate, by the way. It’s an ultraviolet powder that can glow after being exposed to direct light. You’ve probably seen those glowy stars that you can put all over your cieling? Those are made with resin combined with this cool ass powder.
I’m going to take the powder and put it in Junkenstein’s bottles and syringes so that it normal light it looks fine but in dark light it glows.
It was an windy night, the leaf’s blew along the side walk quietly as the street lights aluminated the puddles of water left over by the last rain shower. Some noise could be heard behind as you walked by your self, the thing was if you were really alone by yourself…
Warnings: Swearing (because having a stutter is freaking frustrating)
A/N: I dunno what the person who requested this had in mind, so I hope I did it justice. I wrote this off of my own personal experience with stuttering. I thought this would be fun to write while sick, so if there are any errors, blame it on that.
“Repeat after me: She sells sea shells by the sea shore.”
You narrowed your eyes at Dean. That one was harder, but you were going to try it anyway. “Sh-she… damn it, no!” you chided yourself. “She sells –she sells sea… Argh! Can we do a different one?”
Dean shook his head. He didn’t want to be mean to you, yet this was a necessary technique. If you were going to be a hunter, part of that entailed speaking with a professional tone. Professionals didn’t stutter.
This gif shows a slightly sped up version of a classic chemistry experiment. When aluminium is added to a strong sodium hydroxide solution, it creates sodium aluminate and hydrogen gas. In this gif, the experiment is contained within this 2L Pepsi bottle. This means that the Hydrogen gas being produced greatly increases the pressure inside the bottle very quickly, weakening the plastic and causing it to explode.
DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. Sodium hydroxide is very corrosive. If you were in the vicinity of an exploding bottle of it, it would be very VERY bad for you. Here’s a list of why:
Sharp shrapnel from an exploding plastic bottle, highly corrosive liquid being thrown through the air towards your skin, this reaction is exothermic (you can see the liquid in the bottle boiling) so the corrosive is HOT, highly flammable hydrogen gas produced. This blog exists so that you don’t HAVE to try this at home. Don’t endanger your life and that of others. This GIF is for scientific demonstration purposes only.
This is the first in a series of GIFS for this Wednesday titled “Sodium Hydroxide + Things”.