#drag queen Christmas

[sexynetra]

Not to obsess over Christmas tour Marcia but??? Oh my god she’s so fucking cute????

Like she’s killing me she’s genuinely killing me I cannot handle how fucking cute she is

[bisexualpixiebabe]

Just saying Drag Queen Christmas was so much fun and they are all even prettier in person which I did not think could be possible

[foolsfortune]

Heyyyyy hey cmon don’t cry

Whole new season of Brennan in his drag, okay?? Coiffed hair half elf adventurer Brennan okay????

Hey don’t cry don’t cry

[riaki]

a spritz of peppermint | megumi fushiguro x reader

pt.6 of christmas event! cw: petnames i think idk, not proofread, there’s probably other stuff i’m missing but wtv happy birthday the prettiest king pls come back the food is cold

today is a very special day.

megumi notices that you rise early— mostly because when he wakes up in the morning, rubbing his sleep-heavy eyes groggily with a groan, he notices you’re not there. he rolls over, and smacks his face into cold sheets, devoid of your heat.

it pisses him off. so he starts his special day out as a grouch.

when he eventually crawls out of bed and makes his way into the kitchen after pulling on some sweats, though— he stops just short of the threshold to that sweet smelling cozy haven you love to spend your time in. the scent of pine needles and fresh chocolate orange wafts across the space, warm and welcoming and awfully wintery. he’s impartial to the cold— but he likes seeing your nose get red, so he guesses that’s one point positive.

“megumi?” your soft voice drifts across the open space, and the frost around his grumpy heart melts just a little; a crack in the frozen surface of the lake.

he reluctantly emerges from the shadow of the hallway, past the bundle of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. the thought causes a memory to flash across his mind— your sweet smile and your prettier laugh; a distinct feeling of fuzzy warmth like a knitted sweater spreading across his cheeks when you pulled him close by the sleeve of his shirt and leaned in—

he shakes his head, trying to dash the stray thought. he’s supposed to be mad. it has no right to be there.

“why’d you get up so early?” he sighs heavily as he joins you at your side, scratching the back of his neck and running a hand through his unruly hair. you smiled sheepishly, turning to face him and you wrap your arms around his middle, squeezing lightly as a silent apology. he takes it with a grumble, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his face in your hair to bask in the scent of home before pulling away.

“it’s a secret.” you grinned, and he glares down at you, clicking his teeth in annoyance. you just laugh like the angel you are, leaving no room for guilt. you’re wearing one of his sweaters; you smell like him, and he supposes it makes up for the way you ditched him this morning.

“i expect compensation.” he grumbles, leaning against the counter as he watches you move about the kitchen, pale winter sunlight painting you like an ethereal dancer beneath the surface of misty lake water, crystal clear in your beauty. it’s mesmerizing.

you laughed, and his teeth dig into his bottom lip. “what, missed me? were you feeling lonely, gumi?” you smiled.

he just shoots you a piercing glare, the color of icicles in his eyes, but the warmth of your grin melts it away. you spend the next few moments in a comfortable silence, preparing a french toast topped with sweet berries and powdered sugar that looks so soft megumi could probably sink into it, until your lovely voice breaks the crisp morning silence.

“want black coffee?”

…

that’s weird. he never hesitates. and you know he takes his coffee black; of course you do. not because he wants to look cool, or look suave in another person’s eyes… well, except for you, of course. but not in the area of caffeine doses. and to be perfectly clear, all he needs is a dose of you to get him going.

he clears his throat. “can you make me hot chocolate?”

you pause, and he almost wants to bite his tongue off. why is he so embarrassed? but you just chuckle, like morning bird song across fresh dew on the grass.

“switching it up, huh? that’s cute.” you hum, and his face burns hot like embers in a brick fireplace. he coughs, throat scratchy like the pricks of a pinecone— but you make no note of it, simply going about your day.

he’s content to watch as you fish around in the rum-colored cabinets, pulling out a crinkly bag of cocoa powder. you put him on milk microwaving duty and he busies himself, lithe pale fingers unscrewing the carton of milk and pouring it into his favorite little painted dog mug. you were the one who’d made it; that silly little ceramics class you insisted on taking clearly didn’t help you too much in the way of smoothing down the bumps and blotches on the mug, but it holds your fingerprint, so he might as well memorize the shape of your hands when you’re not there.

megumi’s snapped back to reality when you grab a candy cane from the mini tree you decorated together sitting on the kitchen counter, smashing it up in the wrappings to mix the pepperminty dust with the cocoa powder. he eyes the pile of holiday drug warily as he brings the steaming mug over, placing it before you and leaning against the counter again to watch you work your mystery magic.

“that looks like brown cocai—”

“shh, megumi. keep your pretty mouth shut, please.”

he’s about to butt in again, lips parted before he presses them together irritatedly and resigns to sulk in silence.

you pour the hot chocolate mix into the milk, swishing it together as it forms a pretty spiral of cocoa; the color of dark chai and chocolate tart. he’s content to watch in silence, humming some christmas carol he’d overheard you listening to one gray afternoon— until he realizes you’re opening a bag of those sickeningly sweet and fluffy marshmallows he’d bought you on a whim. he only did it because his mentor told him they made the best gifts, but he’s beginning to realize it was the sweet tooth talking.

“hey— wait… are you going to put those in there, pretty?” he asks, putting a gentle hand on your wrist to stop you from vigorously emptying the bag into his poor victimized hot chocolate mug.

you glance up at him and flash a toothy grin, giving him one of those looks that makes his heart skip a beat. “trust me, gumi! you’re gonna love it.” you laughed, shrugging his hand off, and his lips curve downward. less because of the marshmallows that are toppling into his mug with a splash and more so because you freed yourself from his grasp.

obviously, you notice— your eyebrows knit together, a pinch of guilt weighing upon them like the snow on the streets outside. but it’s wiped away as quickly as it comes; before he knows it, you’re walking away with a bounce in your step, disappearing behind the counter before re-emerging with something behind your back.

“don’t look so sad, gumi. here,” you say, the cadence of your voice as soft and playful as he ever remembers it being when you pull a bunch of roses from behind your back. the bouquet is small and there’s dirt clinging to the stems— but his heart melts at the thought that you hand-picked them, prickly thorns and all, for him. “happy birthday,” you whispered, and his walls break.

“you’re not so different from them, you know.” you hummed, smiling as he takes them from you and gives you an inquisitive, quiet look. “you might be a little prickly on the outside, but you’re just as beautiful. you just have to look a little past the thorns.”

he feels his face flush; at this point, it’s probably as red as the stray candy cane shavings melting in his mug and the vibrant petals of the roses. he splutters and mumbles something annoyed under his breath, but he’s sure you can hear the undercurrent of fondness and affection weaves into each syllable like the beats of his heart, where you’re so close to. megumi thinks you might’ve just cut him open and made a home in his ribcage.

the bunch of handpicked roses for his special day sit on the marble counter dusted with cocoa powder and candy cane shavings, marshmallows bobbing at the surface of his hot chocolate like apples in a bucket as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in to press his lips insistently to yours, slow and tender like the way he always loves you. his hands curl around your sides, as if to ground you there; freeze the time in this bubble of warmth, forgetting the chill outside to warm his hands on your skin. you’re so little in his arms; he wants to hold you and never let you go, to keep you under his tree and have you make hot chocolate for him instead of black coffee every morning he wakes up, because it’s fine if you’re not there in bed— as long as you’re waiting for him with open arms elsewhere.

and when he kisses you, he realizes he might not need his hot cocoa to warm his stomach— your lips are as soft and pillowy sweet as the marshmallows melting in his mug, filled with steaming hot cocoa and all the love he could ever wrap his heart in this cozy winter; his christmas gift to you.

he’s grateful today is a special day, if only because of you and his sweet little painted dog mug filled with your heartwarming love.

stop this was so close to being late my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[saveugoodmadam]

If Santa did drag his persona would be called Sleigh Queen

[thechthonicherbalist]

Cute artsy Christmas gift

In the past months I've been going to flea- and handcraft-markets with my neighbour and getting in touch with a few from my father's customers who were concerned for him and reached out after he became unable to work in the beginning of this year and reconnected a bit to the local queer and art scene through an elderly lesbian inkeeper who hosts different monthly get-togethers for artists, disabled people and queers in her pub a bit. She's very sweet, sadly she said she will likely have to retire in a few years. 😭

But also, her pub doubles as a gallery and I got back in touch with some of the local artists from my former school and the town's tower gallery with them. :3 I shared some of my own art (most of which is ollldddd, at least the handmade stuff) and invited to display a few pieces for sale there. 🥰 I might actually do that. 😂 I also couldn't resist to buy some of the displayed art there as a little Christmas present to myself. 🥺

A sweet woman just a bit older than me, from the scene and I got to talk about these pretty handmade cosmetic bags that were displayed in the pub's window and she knew a lot about them. After 3 rounds of monopoly and many stories exchanged, it turned out, she's the one who made them, when I went to get a closer look and decided to buy two I really loved. 😂

A day later, back at home I realized who they remind me of. Drag-Queen Lestat and Nicki. 🙈 Oops. Tapped into the involuntary-fandom-merch trap again. 😂 I shall tell her about them the next time I meet her. 🥰 For now they hold my smol bun-bun travel hairbrush and hair-products... they've been lying around quite sadly lately in my attempts to practice hair preservation. I am on a medication for chemo that's not supposed to cause too much/complete hairloss like some do. Buuut it's been thinning a bit anyways. 💀 Nothing that won't grow back. (But still - just when I had it grown out past shoulder lenght for the first time in my life too. 😂)

I believe she said the front was acryl on canvas sewn together with other fabrics, that were coloured with ink and acryl. 🤔 I secretly went wild for the white colour stains on the back from her desk. She apologized for them and internally I went like 😭🥵 are you kidding me, that's like the dirty little dripping secret that reveals it's homemade goodness. 😂😂 Much too shy to say that out loud, but yk. 😂🙈

[porcelainlu]

The Jinkx & DeLa Holiday Show (2023) 🎄✨🎁

[marypickfords]

The Ash Tree (Lawrence Gordon Clark, 1975)

“I made, then, three trials, opening the Book and placing my Finger upon certain Words: which gave in the first these words, from Luke xiii. 7, Cut it down; in the second, Isaiah xiii. 20, It shall never be inhabited; and upon the third Experiment, Job xxxix. 30, Her young ones also suck up blood.” — MR James, The Ash-Tree, from Ghost Stories of an Antiquary (1904).

“Further physical abominations were on display in follow-up ‘The Ash Tree’ (1975), starring Edward Petherbridge (later to show up in Gordon Clark’s own version of James’ ‘Casting the Runes’ for ITV in 1979) as an aristocrat who is plagued by his ancestor’s execution of a local witch decades earlier. Adapted by renowned English playwright David Rudkin, who similarly explored Britain’s pagan past in the acclaimed Penda’s Fen the year previous, ‘The Ash Tree’ is the shortest of all the installments, but somehow seems the longest, and its protracted sequences in bright daylight fall aesthetically flat. But the film comes alive at night, as the deformed spiders birthed by the witch’s curse scurry about in the darkness, providing the protagonist—and the film—with a tangible sense of twitchy anxiety. While the main house and grounds were filmed elsewhere, ‘The Ash Tree’ of the title was actually filmed on Gordon Clark’s own property, and mysteriously died two years after filming.” — Kier-La Janisse, from Yuletide Terror: Christmas Horror on Film and Television (2017).

[sexynetra]

I literally gasped out loud, could Marcia look any cuter? (No, the answer is no. She cannot)

[ambitionectomy]

After a local bomb threat, I drew this for The Boston Globe’s Ideas section. With a little help from my friends.

[gr00vyvampiregrrrl]

Vogue Nights : Jingle Jangle Ball

[son-of-a-tenth-place]

[virtual-boy]

{🎀}{🎀}{🎀} {❄️}{❄️}{❄️} {🎄}{🎄}{🎄}

"It's time for some kind of holiday show!"

["It's time for some kind of holiday show!"]

the jinkx & dela holiday special stimboard with green and red christmas themes!

[not requested! happy holidays everyone!!!]

[amethysia]

Today was a ton of fun.

For my birthday and to celebrate our friendship, we dressed like Fraggles and saw the Muppets Christmas Carol drag brunch! We've been friends since like...2008 or 2009? So yeah xD

But the show was amazing! All of the queens were great and talented. Espressa Grande was host (Fozzie in the pic) and the other queens were Chris Mort, Franzia McKenzie, and Stella Prince (from left to right in the pic).

We also went walking around and shopping after the show, and I saw the super cute Bert and Ernie and also the Wembley plush.

Overall a wonderful day.