this dress and those shoes!

Golden Dress [Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader]

Summary: Reader is Lin’s date for a pre-Oscars party and decides there’s no better way to celebrate than with a little teasing. 

Word Count: 5,286

Warnings: smut, papi kink,a slow burn??? - it’s long u guys.

Authors’ Notes: 

Mickeyi’m bad at this but ren is good at it & i will love and support her always (also the word vajajaja has been removed 4 more sexy reasons)

Ren: So as you can see I had a little help! This is my first smut you guys so take it easy on us, okay? I really loved writing this fic and Oscar season just got us really inspired! Hope y’all like it <3 

mickey’s masterlist | ren’s materlist | askbox

When Lin hired a whole crew to assist you getting ready for one of the many Oscar’s press parties, you were sure that was too much.

That didn’t stop you from making the best of it, though. A silky blowout, beautiful makeup were done, a gorgeous golden dress with a seductive thigh-high slit was waiting for you on a hanger near your vanity: you were almost red-carpet ready.

“I don’t know how you do it; you’ve got the seduction of Marilyn Monroe with the elegance of Audrey Hepburn!” The compliments from the hired makeup artist made you blush under the contour you didn’t necessarily need, but made you feel like a million bucks.

“Lin messaged me to tell you that he’ll be downstairs in the limo in 15, okay?” You nodded at Lin’s assistant, Sarah, who’d joined you while taking care of the press calls.

“All that’s left is the dress and the shoes, [Y/N]. Slip those on and you’re Oscar-ready!” your stylist beamed.

“Of course, just slip them on quickly.”

“Right, of course - and thanks for the dress, Marc,” you smiled sheepishly, watching him gaze at the gown on the hanger. You were still mind-blown by how amazing the team made you look. Only three people did the job you thought an entire army wouldn’t be able to; you were mesmerized by your reflection in the mirror, to say the least. “You think Lin will like it?”

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anonymous asked:

Mate/soulmate pretty please

AU/AH. So. Much. Fluff.

The funny thing about being a person, or the sad thing depending on your perspective, is that one was confined to their own vision of the world. No, really, this isn’t a matter of theoretical thinking only. This is also literal. It’s why one can never realize that they had weak eyesight till they tried on glasses. Or how one doesn’t realize that their hearing is impaired until they are given a hearing aid. The list goes on and on, really. And no shocking discovery to limited vision of the world was like Caroline’s.

It started ever since she was as young as four years old. Her mother, Caroline began to notice, had awful taste. She had no sense whatsoever of color coordination. Their house was an absolute mess of colors. Pinks were put with unflattering reds and oranges. The bedsheets were a combination of loud yellows and greens. The living room was dull greys and whites with a stark red couch. It looked like someone just put random things together. And her mother’s outfits? Do not even get her started on that. It’s like her mother had no sense whatsoever of color coordination. Caroline had no qualms over pointing that out to her mom, repeatedly.

“Why do you dress like that, mom?”

“No, mom, I’m not wearing those shoes with this dress, they don’t match!”

Her mother didn’t seem to give much thought into her daughter’s antiques, dismissing her as a stubborn child. She went along with whatever her daughter said but never really and truly thought of what it might mean. And, perhaps if she had, then Caroline wouldn’t have found herself shell-shocked at fifteen while shopping with her friends.

Bonnie was holding up navy blue high heels to a green dress, asking her what she thought.

“Bon, you need black shoes. Those are navy blue.” Caroline said dismissively, grabbing the same pair that Bonnie liked but in the right color. She turned around to hand it to her friend only to find her looking at her with eyes wide, mouth hanging opened.

“Care…” Bonnie said slowly, “when did you start seeing colors?”

Caroline blinked. “Umm… what?”

“Caroline,” Bonnie put down her items onto a nearby seat and coming closer to her friend with a grin plastered across her face. “Did you meet your soulmate?”

“Bonnie, what on Earth are you talking about?” Caroline, confused and slightly afraid, looked at her friend as if she was growing a second head.

Bonnie’s smile began to slowly disappear. “Did your mom not have a talk with you? Have you always seen in color?”

“What talk? What do you mean have I always seen in color? Bonnie, you’re sounding like a crazy person right now.”

Except, it turned out, Bonnie was not the crazy person. Caroline was. To an extent at least. It turned out, she wasn’t supposed to see in color until she met her soulmate. It turned out, no one saw in color until they met their soulmate. Parents, those who had time for their children and have actually found their soulmates, had talks with their children as early as when they turned fourteen years old, telling them how the world is actually in color. And when they see color, they’ll know they met their soulmate. And the first color that they see will be that of their soulmate’s eyes. But no one flaunted their ability to see color.  It was considered rude to do so, especially at such a young age. Finding one’s soulmate during their teenage years was rare. And there was no need to enflame jealousy. Eventually the secret would come out in any case, since those with soulmates stuck together instead of dating sporadically. The keeping it as a secret, though, did not apply to friends. Friends tell.

None of that concerned Caroline, though. What concerned was: first, how in heavens name did she manage to completely evade this information for so long; and, second, how could she see color already? She had never seen the world in black and white, not once. The world had been in colors for as long as she remembered.

With that in mind, Bonnie took Caroline to her grams.

“It’s one of two things, dear,” grams said, “you have either met your soulmate as an infant or a child already. Or you are a strange anomaly and you don’t have a soulmate.”

“That’s not helpful,” Caroline muttered. “How do I find out which one it is? What do I do if I don’t have a soulmate?”

“If you have indeed met your soulmate already, then you’ll find out when you see them again. Your heart will tell you. And if you have no soulmate, then you’ll fall in love and be just as happy. It’s no bother, Caroline.” Grams smiled much to Caroline’s frustration. How could she act as if this was of no big consequences?

“What do I do now?” she demanded.

“Nothing. Just be patient.”

Patience wasn’t her strong suit. But she hadn’t much of a choice.

Seven years later, in her first semester as a grad student, an infuriating Klaus Mikaelson walked into her class. At first glance, he was handsome. At a second glance, he was an arrogant asshole who had no sense whatsoever of the word “no”. At third he was still frustratingly attractive. But the kind of attractive that warranted nothing more than a romp in the bed. And he didn’t seem to mind that one bit.

After many, many, many arguments over critical feminist theory, Caroline found him in her bed. For a long time, that’s the only way they associated with one another. Stress-relievers. Friends with benefits with too much benefits and not enough friendship. Call it what you will. Except, time after time there was more soft touching, more passionate whispering, more intense kissing. Until she caught him one time looking up at her with the gentlest look she’s ever seen anyone wear. His face was nuzzled in her stomach, leaving gentle, burning kisses, and his eyes were tracing every twitch on her face. So fixated his gaze was, so intent that she felt a nakedness beyond her physical one.

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

He didn’t answer her, just continued his climb from her stomach, over her breasts, her shoulders, her neck, leaving a trail of fire behind him before capturing her lips in a slow kiss. He kissed her as if he was in no hurry at all. He kissed her like they had all the time in the world. He kissed her like his entire universe had just shrunk into her mouth and he was searching for his purpose in her.

After they collapsed together, finding a bliss that made her heart beat in a way that frightened her, he held her close. His eyes didn’t let up their search. His index finger traced her cheek, then her lower lip.

“Klaus…” she breathed, not knowing what exactly she wanted to say. She cannot possibly tell him that her heart is about to burst.

“Go out with me, love.”

She averted her gaze from his stormy blue ones to the tattoo spread on his shoulder. She reached out to him, tracing the ink gently with her fingers.

“Tell me first,” she began, realizing her nerves for the first time, “do you see colors?”

He chuckled. “I’m an artist, Caroline, of course I see color.”

She gave him a look, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” he said. “I have always seen color.”

“Me, too.” She breathed.

“And I don’t believe in soulmates. Never have.”

“Then why are you asking me out?” she teased, unable to explain the relief that came over her.

“Because I believe that I’m falling in love with you.”

She blinked, then caught his lips in a bruising kiss. Suffice to say, saying “no” did not even occur to her.


“It is a pity that we have to leave this town.” Esther said, taking another sip of her tea. “But Mikael cannot refuse this offer.”

“The town will not be the same without you.” Liz said, smiling sadly at her friend. “I was hoping that Caroline would get to play with Nik and Rebekah.” She grinned at three-years-old Klaus with Caroline bundled on his lap. He was looking at the infant, wide-eyed with fascination. She reached out to touch his face. He responded by making faces at her which she laughed at.

“Indeed.” Esther chuckled. “It would appear Caroline had already charmed Niklaus.”

An hour later, as Niklaus walked beside his mother towards her car, he noticed for the first time that the car was a loud red.


OOTD from yesterday! We went to the city to see an awesome play called Battlefield, a four-actor adaptation of part of the Mahabharata, and then wandered around in Britex. I didn’t buy anything because I made a vow not to buy fabric I don’t already have a project set up for, but it was a close call.

The dress is from Hot Topic (would you believe? It’s technically merch for the Burton Alice movie, but the pattern isn’t too specifically his versions of the characters so I love it anyway) and everything else is second-hand or a gift.

One time, Bruce was violently awakened at stupid-early o’clock (7.30am) by his cell-phone, and he was bleary and cranky and he answered it; “Ngnnghmf? Tim?”
And Tim said, “…how casual?“
Bruce, resisting the urge to smother himself with his own pillow and/or toss his phone against the wall, managed a (reasonably) coherent, “What.”
“It’s business casual Friday, Bruce! Seriously, how casual is too casual?”

Tiny || Conor Maynard

Originally posted by iheartmyyoutubers

Requests are currently [ CLOSED ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 1k+

Summary: In which (Y/N) is short compared to the boys (as a lot of us are), and she accumulates quite a few nicknames, and finds herself in some sticky situations due to it. 

Dedicated to: The anon who requested this, I hope you enjoy lovely!!xo

It was a long running joke between the boys that even compared to Joe and Conor, the shortest two in their group, that you were absolutely tiny.

It wasn’t that you’d ever been considered short, in fact you’d prided yourself on your more than average height for so many years that suddenly being the smallest in the group by a significant amount made you feel a little strange.

You didn’t mind the teasing, in fact you encouraged it, and even once wore the highest heels you owned under a floor length summer dress to see how they’d react. Needless to say those shoes ended up in a bin on the side of a road in Dubai and you spent the evening being carried around by Caspar.

You and Conor had always had a special kind of chemistry which couldn’t exactly be explained. It’d been instant, since the day you first met even up until now, you knew eachother inside out and it proved to be the perfect basis to start a relationship upon.

When he’d first asked you out on a date, you were sure that it was some kind of prank. But when you agreed, in a bid to amuse the boys, the fact that you ended up on the top of the shard at a table with one of the most beautiful views of London, the possibility of the date being a prank diminished largely.

It was ironic, really; because after nine months of dating Conor finally revealed the thesis behind the first date idea. He wanted to take you to one of the tallest buildings in London, because he was sure that you were one of the shortest most of the time. You’d glared at him when he told you that, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little at the idea.

When it came to filming videos together, they always made a point of the fact that to even fit in the frame you had to boost yourself up with pillows. It was true though, you’d once filmed an entire video with them only to find out that only your forehead had been in shot. It was a devastating, yet hilarious turn of events.

Then, after months and months of teasing, the nickname aroused. It was something Conor had thrown around a few times playfully, and you were so used to just responding to the name that when the boys picked up on it: it wasn’t so much of an adjustment.

Josh decided that he didn’t want to be like the others, and so instead he used an alternate of the word and insisted on screaming it in public places to humiliate you.

Being called “small” wasn’t exactly an insult, and defiantly wasn’t too embarrassing when they all called you by that name in public, but Josh just insisted on taking it one step further and regularly screamed “tiny, where’d you go?!” whenever you were at busy attractions and happened to stray away from the boys.

Today, you and the boys were on holiday in LA. It wasn’t your first time, and you knew that it certainly wouldn’t be your last: but this time the boys wanted to do things, like visiting theme parks and go site seeing. Usually you’d just lounge in the pool outside your villa and then go out in the evenings, but of course, the boys had different plans.

Your shoe choice for the day hadn’t been the best, as it turned out. A theme park and slanted shoes did not equal happiness, and so after walking in pain for a good few hours, she finally caved and let the boys know how much pain she was in.

They weren’t mad, obviously, and Caspar seemed more than happy to carry you on his back for the rest of the day, pinching your cheeks and squealing, calling you his little backpack and ultimately making you blush.

Conor would’ve carried you, but you knew for a fact that he didn’t really enjoy it when he did, and so he was completely fine with Caspar carrying you around - anything to know Ethan you were no longer in any pain kept him content.

You did hop off and slide back into your shoes when they all wanted to go on a ride that you couldn’t, due to a health condition, and so you look after all of their valuables that they didn’t want to get wet or drop whilst you waited on one of the benches, scrolling through your twitter feed and reblogging a few pictures that fans had taken with you throughout the day so far.

You’d had to walk quite a distance from the ride to find an available seat, and so when the boys got off the ride and didn’t find you waiting for them, they immediately grew worried. Conor pulled out his phone and cursed under his breath when he remembered that he hadn’t yet changed the setting on your phone to work on American telephone signals yet and had only addressed the internet portion.

They all share a look of mutual worry and all split up, but within moments they all hear Josh’s booming voice, and they were sure that the rest of the park had too. “Tiny, where are you?!”

You look up from your phone and your eyes widen an inch, your cheeks glowing red as everyone around you looked around in confusion, wondering where the loud voice was coming from. You gather up all of your things and jog in the direction of the ride, glaring at the group of boys and looking around sheepishly. “Gods, Josh, could you shout any louder?”

Conor sighs in relief and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you quickly on the mouth and then once on the forehead as Josh rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Oh please, I could be so much louder than that if I needed to be. That’ll teach you not to tell us where you’re going.”

“I’m not six!” You exclaim, throwing your head back and laughing a little, especially when Oli makes a point out of waving his arms in the air and shouting ‘you may not be six, but you look it!’

These boys were nuisances, but they were your nuisances.

Do What’s Best

Originally posted by supernatural-jackles

This is for @riversong-sam​​ Sam’s 700 Follower Celebration. I chose the song, ‘Why Don’t We Just Dance-Josh Turner’, the quote, ‘You’re joking, right?’, and the gif that is included in the fic. The song is sorta woven into the fic and the gif is meant to be Sam and Amelia. Even tho it doesn’t look like them, just accept it.

Characters: Y/n, Dean, Sam, Amelia


Warnings: Angst, argument, injury to reader, strained relationship, Dean being a dumbass, angst at the end

Word count: 1806

Summary: An argument strains Y/n and Dean’s relationship, but will Dean say what he needs to in order to fix it?

A/N: Ok, so…angst? It’s basically all angst, but the ending isn’t too definite…sorta!!! Iunno…it’s all angst. Also, it’s an AU. Nothing specific. Just a non-hunting AU, cos…that’s how it happened. And sorry to the peeps who don’t like Amelia with Sam, I hated Ruby 2.0 and Jess wasn’t even a character except for like a single ep, so Amelia was the one I had to go for. Hope u like it!!

Tagged peeps: @waywardsons-imagines​ @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname​ @sallyp-53​ @vixenwinchesters​ @helvonasche​ @notnaturalanahi​ @wayward-mirage​ @riversong-sam​ @nerdflash​ @miss-miep​ @impala-dreamer​ @unknown-chronicles​ @chelsea072498​ @deals-with-demons​ @plaidstiel-wormstache​ @impalaimagining​ @deathtonormalcy56​ @the-latina-trickster​ @aingealcethlenn​ @squirrels-angels-and-moose @meganwinchester1999​ @cubs2019-blog​ @lucifer-in-leather​ @p–trick​ @straightestgay-voice​ @professsionalsinner​ @deantheotherkingofkinks​ @50shadesofyes​ @lucis-unicorn @whispersandwhiskerburn​ @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell​ @colespriverdale​ @daddysxlittlexsunshine @atc74​ @wonderange @mogaruke​ @aiaranradnay


Dean watched as you stared at the TV, barely giving him a glance.

Things had been strained between the two of you.

Ever since Sam had moved out, finally getting a place with his fiancée, Dean had been more on edge.

It wasn’t anything to do with you. But Sam was his kid brother.

Ever since their mom died in a break-in gone wrong, Dean had promised to protect his little brother.

Once John died, Sam stayed close to Dean, knowing he was the only one his brother had left in his life.

But once y/n and Dean had finally gotten serious, Sam decided he’d spend more time with his friends than his brother.

And Dean didn’t mind that either.

Being with you was a breath of fresh air.

Dean had never had time for relationships. Not really.

There were a few people, but nothing that ever stuck. Not until you came along.

So when Sam began sending less time at home and more time with his girlfriend, Dean didn’t mind, because he had you.

And the two years you spent together was amazing.

Dean was never the type who fell in love.

He’d had maybe three girlfriends in his entire life and a couple of one night stands. But you took his heart and filled it with love and happiness.

Love that he never knew he needed.

But that all came crashing down when Sammy left.

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oh damn 🙍😓 it’s nothing 🚫🙅 it’s stupid 😜😂 you know those black shoes❓ 👞 i told you it was stupid 😂😩 i bought this black dress ⚫️👗to go with those black shoes 👞 which i forgot to pack 😱👜 i have 6️⃣ other pair of shoes 👟👠👞👡👢👟 2️⃣  of which are running shoes 👟👟 in case you’re up for a little game later 🎾🏀🏁 and now i’m doubly screwed 🔩🔩 because i have 2️⃣ black dresses ⚫️👗👗 and no black shoes 👞🚫😓 i know what you’re thinking 👵💭 “who cares what color shoes she’s wearing❓”👠👢👟 but believe me 🙋 women 👧👩👸 notice 👀
Cuckoo’s Flight 2/6

Last time, Belle escaped from the asylum with the help of Dr Hopper, and met Storybrooke’s notorious landlord in the bar of the Rabbit Hole.  Here’s what happened next

AO3 link

Mr Gold gestured to a table away from the bar, and Belle shrugged and picked up her wine and the plate of nachos.  She was surprised when he pulled out a chair for her, but took a seat, and he sat across from her with one hand folded over the handle of his cane.  Fingers drummed slowly on the side of his whisky glass as he watched her, and Belle wasn’t sure if he was making her uncomfortable or not.  She sensed that he was dangerous, but there was something else there, something that told her that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Well,” he said quietly.  “Perhaps we should start with the basics.  What’s your name?”

She thought quickly.  Her name was known at the hospital, and until she was sure that Dr Hopper would vouch for her, and for his decision in releasing her, she didn’t want to make the job of taking her back any easier.  So she needed a name.

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