“Those leather pants of Aaliyah’s from “More Than A Woman” were custom made. I designed them myself and sewn by a tailor I always used for Aaliyah, Joe LaGrand. Since it was an all dance video, I wanted a vibe similar to what Aaliyah wore in “Try Again”, hence the leather pant. So I went to a leather sex shop in Los Angeles for inspiration & came out with that design in my head. I have those pants, along with most of Aaliyah’s other wardrobe, in storage. Most likely never to be worn again.” - Derek Lee (Aaliyah’s Stylist) / @dleestyle 💕 | The OG trendsetter(s). Aaliyah & Derek did this in 2001. Let that sink in #InnovatorsOverImitators 💅🏻
Sorry this took so long to actually get on here…I’d been typing…too much…hahaha…right so, HIGHLIGHTS! Just a reminder that what I saw was the first PREVIEW and I already know they’ve made some script changes, so until opening night on April 4th things will still be changing! Anyway here are my highlights (Re: Lauren trying not to just type out the entire musical.)
Summary: With the reasoning of wanting to be part of the British Men of Letters you were invited to a training to show off your abilities. Only didn’t they know that you truly had something else on your mind.
Pairing: Arthur Ketch x Reader x Mick Davies (No M/M)
Warnings: Smut, threesome, oral sex, unprotected sex
A/N: An anon asked me whether I could ever think of writing this pairing and ever since then I had this idea on my mind and just had to write it… So enjoy being part of a British Sandwich. Feedback is appreciated!
When you requested to be part of the British Men of Letters you didn’t expect them to actually invite you for a session of training so you could show what you were capable of.
Even better was that both Mister Arthur Ketch and Mick Davies were going to watch to make a decision. Jackpot!
You’ve had the hots for them the moment you saw them. The way they had looked at you sent arousal right through your body and left you sexually frustrated till you finally arrived at home and could release your strong need.
So now it was not only your mission to get accepted by them but also hopefully get them both into your pants. Even if it was just one of them for now. You hoped that what you had planned would even turn them on in the slightest.
Reader has complications during what’s supposed to be a normal childbirth and has to fight for her life.
Warnings: Angst, Hella Sadness, Death (???)
Words: 2k and some change.
You can take a quick listen here (highly recommend that you listen if you want to cry😂)
It’s not supposed to happen
like this, Tom thought as tears streamed down his face. He sat in the private waiting
room with both of your families. He let out a loud sob and his mother rested
his head on her shoulder. “She’s going to make it.” She kept repeating that to
her son whose mind explored what he could’ve done better as a husband as you
fought for you and your unborn baby girl’s life.
“Are you nervous?” You
joked as he drove to the hospital. “Me, I’m not the one giving birth.” He said.
“Well by the way your gripping that steering wheel I would say you were.” You
laughed and then winced once you felt a contraction. He jerked his head to look
at you, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just the
contractions.” You rubbed your stomach and smiled, “I can’t wait for her.” He
nodded, “She’s going to be perfect.” He said loosening his grip from the
steering wheel and took your hand. He pulled up to the hospital and ran to
alert the staff.
You were wheeled to your
room and made comfortable, “everyone’s on the way.” Tom said looking up from
his phone. “Calm down baby.” You laughed taking in his anxious demeanor. “I-I’m
fine.” He shrugged, taking a seat beside the bed. Six hours had passed and all
of your family had been in the room to see you. “You two are going to be great
parents.” Mrs. Holland gushed grabbing your hand. After a chatting for a while,
you felt a fire shoot through your lower body. You let out an agonizing scream
and Tom jumped up, “Are you okay love?”
“The contractions are
getting closer.” You breathed. “I’ll go get the doctor.” His parents walked out
of the room t o get your OB/GYN. The doctor came in and smiled, “So how are we
“They’re closer.” Tom
answered. She put on her gloves and checked you, “You’re not dilated yet so we’ll
give you the epidural and then let the magic happen.”
Name: Jealous Rated: M for smut and slight pet play Pairing(s): Yoonseok, implied Jikook, Namjin and past Yoonmin Summary: Yoongi needed someone to alleviate his desires after Jimin simply refused to indulge him. Having no other choice he hangs with Hoseok and the younger demon finally snaps and pounces, tired of seeing Yoongi going to others instead of him. Yoongi needs to be taught that he doesn’t need anyone, but himto give him what he needs.
Warnings: smut, anal sex, dry humping (is that a warning?)
Word Count: 2100ish
A/N: My use of the movie wasn’t my most creative idea ever, but I still love writing these too dorks having all the sweet sex. Feedback much appreciated!
“What are we watching?” Dean relaxes just asking the question. These movie nights with Cas are his favorite nights, when everything is quiet except for the small laptop on his bed, and the whole world outside of his bedroom doesn’t exist.
They were his favorite nights even before he and Cas became…whatever they are- they haven’t really talked about it or labeled it, but Cas does stay in Dean’s bedroom every night now, and they definitely do more than sleep. But now, now that Dean’s allowed to snuggle into Cas’ side, or fall asleep tangled up in him afterward, or distract himself with sex if the movie is boring, now these nights are the absolute best nights Dean has.
A conversation had come up regarding a genderbent Mustard cookie this morning. I forgot exactly how it happened but one detail led to another and a few hours later I decided to put a pencil to paper and draw him.
A short oneshot written for @lucife56 ! Thorin rediscovers the meaning of winter with the help of Fili and Kili.
He was meant to lift axes, not hammers.
He was meant to sweat from training, not the forge. He was meant to rule in decadence, not labor for meager coins. He was not meant to be bothered by the approach of winter.
And yet, there he stood, a hammer tied to his belt, the back of his shirt soaked with sweat, his limbs frozen, his fist clutching his pay. Thorin looked up to the sky and glowered, challenging the gray clouds scowling back. Winter has come to pound on his weather-weary door and smother the fields with his coat of snow. Must be an elf, the bastard.
Thorin sighed, donned his coat – already threadbare by now – and pushed himself to climb back home. Home. Laughable concept. The semi-precious metal in his hand bit into his skin as he tightened his grip. This should be enough for… something. Market prices still baffled him, so he let Dis manage the household.
A few men nodded his way. Thorin nodded back. He continued his climb, thanking Mahal for strong, dwarven made boots. Once, he liked the cold season. Another laughable concept, that. People traveled less in the winter, fought less, spent less – no horseshoes for him to fix, pots to make, swords to forge. And everything was in short supply and expensive. And it was bloody cold. Thorin scoffed at the wind that weaved beads of snow into his hair and beard. Let her try. He sold all his finery long ago.
Mother would sing songs, comes the winter, and the cooks would bake deep fried sweets coated with honey and jam – stop it, his mind hissed.