this took so long to find

Operation Henderson and Harrington Pt. 3 ~ Mini-Series

Summary: The kids take it upon themselves to test their matchmaking skills. With a little help, they form a plot to get you and Steve together by Halloween.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x (Henderson!You) Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Language! Mostly from Dustin.

A/N: Part Three is up!!! Enjoy!

Part One ~ Part Two ~ Part Three ~ Part Four (Coming Soon)

Tags: @vaultvixen @everythingilove-blog @petah-parkah-and-potahtas @holycoldcoffee @thechandlerbingdance @jinx-is-fire @jinx-is-fire @unapologetically-insane @moonlightbae14 @thatcrazyfangirlmaze @eylul222 @eadesa @richletozler @thegirlwhoisintoomanyfandoms @13reasonswhyimcrying @kyliegeatz @itskayleefam @goimaginethiss @tapetayloe @theoraeken9 @greatbarrierwreath @themidnight-train @stressedoutkylo @pugsandkisses14 @a-sinners-ink @captainstilinskis @iamzion-therealhabesha @turqois-e @agirlwholovesfandoms @alwaysoutoftheordinary @totheworldosanime

Phase Three of Operation Henderson and Harrington: Shopping.

You hummed as you made your way through the Halloween store that was located about a mile outside of Hawkins. Everyone knew this was the best place to go to for all costume and decorating needs. You already had found black attire at a regular clothing store, attire meaning black leggings and a black shirt to wear underneath the signature pink jacket, for yourself and the two girls but the pink jacket could only be purchased at a costume store.

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Shattered | Darkiplier

Request: @martheghost asked “OKAY BUT IS THERE A SEQUEL TO “Reflections of the Past” BECAUSE I REALLY NEED ONE THAT’S FILLED WITH FRUSTRATIONS AND ANGST AND AN EVENTUAL HAPPY ENDING I’m so sorry for yelling I HAVE EMOTIONS also if you don’t wanna write it don’t worry I just have feELinGs”

Synopsis: Sequel to “Reflections of the Past”, Dark tries to find a way to release you from the mirror and things get rather bloody and tearful.

Warnings: manipulation, anxiety, blood, death, one (1) slit throat, broken mirror, crying, denial, insanity

A/N: Sorry this took so long but I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS GOT DELETED.

You watched as Dark sat as his desk, his eyes scanning over his paperwork. You wondered what he could possibly be so invested in. Whatever it was, it was important.

Over the past few months you noticed that no one really ever visits Dark. You had your theories, of course, but if Dark is just Celine and Damien or if he’s just using them as pawns for whatever he has planned, Celine and Damien always enjoyed the company of other people.

“Hey, Dark?”

He didn’t look up. “Yes, Y/N?”

“Do you ever get lonely locked away in here?”

He paused for a moment. “Of course not. I have you, don’t I?”

“In case you didn’t notice, you avoided me like the plague for years.”

“I’m aware.” He finally looked up at you. “I prefer being uninterrupted in here much more than whatever…chaos goes on out there.”

“What about William?”

He sighed at that and went back to his work. “He is capable of handling himself. And it’s Wilford now.”

You crossed your arms. “What about that guy with no eyes–The Host, I believe?”

Dark didn’t respond at first. The cogs seemed to be turning in his mind. He stood suddenly and started walking towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Hopefully, towards answers.”

He abandoned the papers at his desk that, unbeknownst to you, all pertained to getting you out of that mirror.

The Host was writing when Dark arrived in the library. Despite his lack of eyes the words still flowed out of his pen in beautiful swooping calligraphy. He continued to mutter quiet narrations under his breath. Dark assumed he was just feeling reminiscent of his Author days. If he was aware of Dark’s presence he didn’t show it.

The entity stopped in front of his desk. “Host. I’m afraid I need your help with…an issue.”

His pen stilled as he looked…well, not looked up at Dark. “The Host inquires as to what Darkiplier’s issue may be.”

“I need to know how to get someone’s soul that’s trapped in another timeline a tangible body in this one.”

“The Host wonders why Darkiplier assumes that he can help in such a situation.”

“Because, if I recall correctly, I helped you once and in return, you swore to help me.”

That, of course, is a different, much more bloody story. The bandages around The Host’s eyes grew redder in agreement.

He got up and disappeared into the stacks, returning moments later with a thick, leather bound book. He placed it on the desk in front of Dark.

“Everything should be in here?” Dark questioned.

“The Host assures it.”


Dark picked up the book, turned on his heel, and left.

The Host sat back down at his desk and picked up his pen. As he began to write again the beautiful calligraphy morphed into harsh, furious scratches, his anxiety growing with every word. Drops of blood fell to the page, unnoticed.

You pressed your hands against your side of the mirror to try and get a better look at what Dark was holding as he walked back into the office.

“What’s that?”

He dropped the book unceremoniously onto his desk. “Answers.”

Then he sat down, opened the book, and started scanning pages.

“So are you unreasonably cryptic just for dramatic effect or…?”

You sighed when he didn’t answer. You looked around your side of the mirror, an exact replica of his office, and sat down in his desk chair. Picking up a letter opener to entertain yourself with, you kicked your feet up on the desk and prepared yourself for several hours of silence.

After a long period of not talking or moving or anything that normal people do, Dark stood again.

“What is it now?”

“I have to go kill someone.” He said bluntly before leaving the office and slamming the door behind him.

You sighed. Of course he did.

It wasn’t hard for Dark to find you in this timeline. It also wasn’t hard to convince you to come with him, it seemed that you in this timeline was much more easy to manipulate than the you that he knew.

He brought you from this timeline back to Ego Inc.

You gasped upon him entering the office with…well, you. “Is that me?”

“You from this timeline, yes.”

Present-Timeline-You raises a hand to cover their mouth in shock. “What the hell…” They whispered through their shaking fingers.

You got a feeling that this was the person Dark had to kill. “I’m sure this is all very alarming to you but I’m afraid you won’t be alive for much longer to process it.” Now you looked straight at Dark as you spoke to them. “I deeply apologize for whatever he’s about to do to you. After all, we can’t have more than one me walking around.”

Present-Timeline-You could barely stutter out a coherent sentence to verbalize their confusion. Before they could, Dark procured a knife out of thin air and slit their throat. They continued to stand for a moment, a look a bewilderment still etched on their features as blood gushed out from the wound. Then, like a marionette who’s strings had been cut, they collapsed in a heap.

“Well that wasn’t pleasant in the slightest.”

Dark did not respond. Instead, he dipped his fingers in present timeline you’s blood and started drawing sigils on the surface of the mirror while muttering under his breath in a long dead language.

You already began to feel the effects of it, like a pull of some sort, pulling your soul toward a more tangible host than a simple mirror. Your eyes widened when you saw Dark holding a very familiar cane. The one Damien used everyday. You were surprised that he still had it. You smiled and closed your eyes, relishing in the sweet sting of nostalgia as Dark swung the cane and shattered your mirror.

When you opened your eyes you were on the floor. You suddenly sat up, gasping in much needed oxygen. You caught a glimpse of yourself in one of the shards of mirror. Your throat was no longer cut thankfully. You began to feel along your arms and legs, remembering the times when you could touch and breathe then smiled because those were no longer distant memories. You looked up at Dark who watched you with fondness in his eyes.

You leaped up from the floor to embrace him tightly, tears pooling in your eyes. “Thank you, Dark. Thank you so, so much. I-I…thank you.”

You felt his arms slowly wrap around you. “You’re welcome.”

You didn’t release him for a long time. You stayed with your head rested on his shoulder, tears of happiness and relief wetting his suit jacket. When you did step away you wiped your eyes and immediately began thinking about what you would do with your newfound mobility.

Then you gasped. “William! Or Wilford- whatever. You have to take me to him. I need to see him.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Dark looked reluctant. “That might not be wise, Y/N. Wilford barely remembers that timeline. He has repressed so much of it. There’s a very good chance that he won’t remember who you are.”

“I don’t care. Even if he doesn’t have the slightest idea who I am, he was my friend, and I want to see him again.”

After several moments of contemplation, Dark exhaled sharply. “Very well.”

He opened the office door and gestured for you to exit. When you did he shut the door behind him and began to lead you through Ego Inc. You recognized people from the rare times that Dark spoke of them. The Googles, Dr. Iplier, Bim Trimmer. You made a mental note to introduce yourself to Bim later, he seemed nice.

Dark brought you to an empty sound stage. It appeared that someone had just finished using it, the set hadn’t been cleared away yet. He led you down a hallway that branched off of the sound stage and brought you to a door with a large, pastel pink star hung on it.

Dark knocked, more for your sake than his own because he obviously didn’t care for knocking.

“I’m working!” A voice that was not quite like the one you remember snapped from inside.

“Open the door, Warfstache!” Dark snapped back. He glanced at you. “You have a visitor.”

There was the sound of rustling from inside before the door swung open to reveal a pastel clad man with a grin plastered on his face.

“A visitor, you say?”

You were taken aback slightly by his appearance. Gone was the military style uniform, it was replaced with a white dress shirt, bubblegum pink suspenders, and a matching bow tie. In fact, bubblegum pink seemed to be his whole ‘aesthetic’, even his well groomed mustache was the unnaturally bright shade.

But you knew this was the Colonel. You knew. His eyes were the same eyes that he had that day. The day that he snapped. His eyes were full of amusement and laughter and madness. That was the Colonel you remember. Now he was a entertainer. A rather famous one apparently.

He grasped your hand to kiss your knuckles. “Lovely to meet you. Would you like an autograph?”

Your heart sank a little. Only a little. You didn’t really expect him to recognize you right away anyway. “Um, no…Wilford,” You said his new name slowly, still not quite used to it. “it’s me. It’s Y/N.” You spoke again when he didn’t answer right away. “Do you remember me?”

His grin seemed to falter for a split second, you almost didn’t notice. “N-No I don’t believe I…do.”

Dark seemed surprised that Wilford hesitated. He didn’t expect him to remember you at all.

You took his hands in yours. “Wilford. Do you remember me?” He had to remember. He had to. “Remember the party? And Mark? Please, you have to remember.”

He shook his head, muttering incoherently under his breath.

You started to sound more desperate but you didn’t seem to care. “Damien and Celine were there. Remember your friends, William. Remember me.”

The muttering got louder and combined with chuckling, “It was-it was a joke. It was all a joke.” He let go of your hands to cup your face. “It was all a joke! Y/N, it was all a joke! Ha! Oh, Y/N I finally found you.”

You didn’t bother to correct him. “Yeah, Wil, it was all a joke.” Tears started to roll down your cheeks again as he pulled you into a hug. You turned your head to look at Dark. “Thank you.” You mouthed silently.

He nodded then left, leaving you and Wilford to catch up.

Wilford released you then dragged you into his dressing room. “C’mon! I have so much to show you.”

You felt yourself smiling more than you ever had in years. You were reunited with your friends again and all was well. All was well.

Johnny dating a tall girl- NCT

Johnny Seo


a/n: I’m so sorry this took so long to get up and that it’s so shirt. I’m not a tall person at all so i have no clue where im gonna go with this 






-Johnny likes tall girls 

-he’s tall and he doesn’t want to go through the hassle of having to bend down several inches just for a kiss 

-so when he saw you he knew he was gonna like you 

-he looooooooves your legs 

-he helps you find jeans that aren’t too short even though it’s a job and a half 

-he likes that your head fits right in between his neck and shoulders 

-he likes it even more when you wear heels and you’re the same height as him or even taller 

-i feel like he really likes it when girls wear heels 

-he also likes that when you wear his clothes they don’t completely swallow you 

-they just fit you perfectly 

-he thinks you both complement each other perfectly 

-he could stare at you for hours 

-he likes it when you wear shorts and pants that show off your legs 

-honestly if you’re tall you have his heart 

queen-archeron  asked:

N E S S I A N :))

(Sorry this took so long. I didn’t expect to receive any asks and went to bed. I hope you like this!)

The world had come to an end. The old rusty car drove across the ash coloured roads, the radio breaking the deafening silence. The driver, a young woman with fire burning in her veins and a look that could kill, rolled her eyes as she watched the man next to her trying to find a decent radio station. Dirt and wounds covered their bodies and their clothes smelled. Sweat mixed with dirt had settled in the wounds and both were waiting for the signs of infections. The male, hair reach his shoulders with a bun that could fall apart any minute, turned the button again. Again he was greeted by the sound of static.

“You’re not going to find a decent station out here. Just leave it alone.” Nesta stated as she turned the radio off. Cassian leaned back in the passenger’s seat and looked at whatever was left of the planet they knew. Prythian had been reduced to ruins and burned down cars. Fae and humans a mere burned memory of their once glowing souls. Bodies had been scattered across the streets. All of them stuck in an expression of horror. That’s what happened when you stood up against the cruellest being ever to exist: Amarantha. The cruellest high fae to ever walk the earth.  
She had single-handedly turned the whole planet into a wasteland. A grey coloured wasteland with corpses. Those who survived escaped Prythian and turned to a life on the road. Weapons and food was the only thing they were certain of. Water was a different story.

Cassian looked at her, “You know that they survived. They had to. Feyre, Rhysand, Elaine. They’re all alive.” He reached out to touch her hand, that was resting on the gear lever. She waved his hand away as if it were a fly and squinted her eyes briefly. Cassian pulled his hand back and sighed “You can’t stay mad at me forever. I did what I had to do.” Nesta snorted and kept focusing on the road.
She knew very well what he did. She would never forget it, the eyes. The open mouth, shocked. Cassian kneeled next to the body, crying and his hands covered in blood. His blood. They had been thick as thieves. Like two peas in a pot and he had killed him. Nesta remembered how the shadows seemed to fade when the light faded from his eyes. She had heard Elaine scream and Feyre yell at Cassian. Rhysand hadn’t said a word. Cassian was crying, tears mixing with the drying blood on his hands and one of Amarantha’s spies had grinned. Nesta remembered how she wanted to rip his golden locks off his head and feed them to him, strangle him with them.

“Tell that to my sisters. Tell that to Mor. To Amren… Especially Amren.” Nesta said. Cassian swallowed hard, Amren. He had forgotten about her. Amren would kill him if she saw him. Feed his eyes to him and have his blood for dinner. Cassian shivered and stared back outside. How did this all happen?  How did Amarantha manage to become so strong? The Fae Council was fine, they were alive. Then Cassian realized it, like a splash of cold water had hit him. He had suspected something when they missed the exit towards Adarlan. Cassian inhaled sharply prayed to the Cauldron that he would survive and grabbed the steering wheel. Pulling at it and sending the rusty car into a spin. As the car rolled across the road, Cassian felt his whole life pass before eyes. As the car came to a stop, he was laying on the roof. Nesta was breathing heavily as she lay outside, her arm looked terrible. Cassian crawled out of the car before the gas tank exploded and tried to run away from Nesta. His legs hurt and he was probably going to have bruises and cuts all over them. Nesta ran towards him and swung her arm against his neck. Cassian stumbled and fell to the ground, rolling over onto his back. Nesta snapped her shoulder back in place and walked over to Cassian, cuts bleeding and her hair a tangled mess. Behind her, he saw the car burn.

“When did you realize?” Nesta asked. Cassian coughed and said, “When we missed the exit to Adarlan.” Nesta chuckled and grabbed the gun that had been stuck on her back, between her pants and underneath her shirt. She pointed the gun at him and stated, “Well, Amarantha is going to be pleased.” Cassian smirked, “Is she now? Ar you keeping her bed warm too?” The last remark resulted in a kick in the ribs. Cassian groaned and chuckled. Nesta, still pointing the gun at Cassian, smiled while saying: “Goodbye Cas. Maybe we are happily married in a next life.” Cassian grabbed a piece of the car and swung it towards Nesta. It pierced her side and Nesta screamed. Cassian kicked her to the ground for good measure and ran away.

Wow this turned out prett dark! Oops! ^^’

Sunlight Beams

Promise, no more spam today! This be the last one. I thought I had more builds, but this is the only one left worth anything. 

This home was originally used in a long dead legacy that never took off. It’s decidedly feminine in decor because it was designed for a decidedly feminine female…. you’ve been warned! No point in letting a cute build go to waste right? So you get to use it now! Hooray!

It’s a 2 level home with 2 bedrooms and 1 bathroom. It’s based off the single streamlet house in Willow Creek. Comes in two versions (Feminine-ish Furnished at 52.3k) and (Unfurnished at 19.5k) 

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anonymous asked:

Oh my god been off tumblr for a while and checked back in to find your New Rome piece and it's seriously brilliant. All the characters (esp annabeth) are so complex and so well written. How's part 5 coming?!

Thank you! I took a brief break to work on an original piece for NaNoWriMo this month, so I’m not very far long with Part Five at the moment. I’ll have an update in December.

Author: fiction-phan
Word Count:
Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Temporary Character Death

Dan Howell has been able to see ghosts his whole life. Things have gone from bad to worse now that his mother remarried and he finds himself sharing his new room with Phil, avery good looking guy. A guy, who happens to be dead. 


Author Notes: 

I’m not even sure what I’m going to say. I wrote the first few paragraphs of this story back in December 2016. I was going to post it for one of the days of the 25 days of christmas but I started getting so many ideas that I knew it would be too long for that. It took me months to get it completely done. I stressed, I panicked and I cried because I wasn’t sure I was going to finish it in time. Somehow, I did it. This story is like my little baby and I’m so, so proud of it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

(Btw, don’t let the title get to you. I promise the story is much better than the title I came up with in five minutes)

Big thank you goes to @findmeinthekingdm. She was the best beta I could have asked for. From rewording sentences that made no sense to pitching me new ideas, she was essential for this story to be posted today. Thank you for dealing with my procrastination. 

Thank you also to @gay-lizard-dads for the amazing art. You’ll get to see it soon, I promise. 

anonymous asked:

Stenbrough headcanons where bill is a huge fan of astronomy and he tries to impress stan with some astronomy facts and takes him sky watching and stan is very impressed and finds bill’s fascination for the sky very endearing. And bill suddenly blurs our: “S-Stan, you’re my brightest star”


  • It took a long time to find something that he was as passionate about as Stan is with birds
  • However, on the night of Stan and Bill’s first kiss they were stargazing and Bill has loved astronomy passionately ever since
  • “Hey Stan! that’s the bi-big dipper!”
  • “I know what the goddamn big dipper is”
  • “Okay, d-did you know that neu-neutron stars are the leftov-overs of ma-massive stars after supernova e-ex-explosions!”
  • “No, Bill I didn’t know that,”
  • They would be holding hands and just laying together on a roof watching the stars as Bill points out tons of constellations as he spots them
  • After Bill was silent for a bit Stan squeezed on his hand to make sure he was still awake because damn he ain’t gonna carry his boyfriend off a damn roof
  • “S-Stan?”
  • “Yeah Bill?”
  • “You’re my br-brightest star,”
  • “What?”
  • “You’re my brightest star,”
  • Stan would laugh a little bit before sitting up and kissing Bill’s forehead, “You’re such a nerd William, I love you,” and he’s gleaming with love at the comment
  • He won’t admit it but he was trying his best to think of an equally adorable comment but damn he was too busy thinking about Bill’s to come up with one
  • from that point on Bill would refer to Stan as “My star” or other things relating

Sebastian Stan In Every Decade
For @steverogersnotebook + the anon


the abc’s of bangtanf is for friendship/family

“Teamwork and friendship. The love and friendship between our members. Our bromance or brothership is strong. The fans probably like the way how we are attached to each other. This is our strength.” -BTS Secret to global popularity (cr)

space siblings


Magnus talking in different languages

(requested by @of-tea-and-books​)


“…but the mere fact that they were still there on either side of him, speaking bracing words of comfort, not shrinking from him as though he were contaminated or dangerous, was worth more than he could ever tell them.”