#this costume is so comfy its just jeans and a button up and i love it

[ambrwolf]

My Father Paul cosplay at galaxycon columbus! The person i bought the print from (@raphae11e / raphdoods on insta) was the only one who recognized the character lol

[pink-whiskey-woman]

Happy Haunts Materialize

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receivng), fingering, creampies, heavy kissing, flirtations Dieter, no use of y/n for reader, Disney kink

A lazy hazy sunshine filtered in through the open window of the bedroom, a cool fall breeze blowing in leaving goosebumps on your naked shoulders. Arms wrapped around your west broad chest pushed smack against you, a firm dick notched against your ass leaving you with more goosebumps as a patch beard tracks kisses down your neck, shoulders and spine. Shuffling onto your side you see Dieter and his childlike smile and warm brown eyes looking back at you studying your eyes, your lips and your body, licking his lips and kissing you sweetly. “If we’re gonna get there for rope drop we need to start getting ready” you softly whisper to Dieter. “I know, I know my love just hard to get up so early but for you I’ll do anything” You both yawn and stretch and amble out of bed for breakfast. Scarfing down some toast and coffee you both get upstairs, grab your costumes for the day and jump in the shower together. Soaping each other up while hot water courses over you both wakes you up and makes you incredibly horny, Dieter’s hands massaging your ample breasts pinching and rolling your nipples as his cock grows hard pressed up against the curve of your lower back and you press yourself into him as he moves his hands lower down your hips and ghosts his fingers over your clit lightly drawing circles and whispering in your ear “If you love Disney so much just wait till we get back home you have VIP access to the best ride ever” You turn to push your fingers into solid, tan chest and soft belly behind you wrapping a hand around his semi hard cock and teasing a little yourself. “ I can’t wait, gonna ride it more than once, baby” You both chuckle and turn the cooling water off and step out of the glass doored shower to towel off. Dieter goes to get ready in his guest room and you get ready in the bedroom the outfit purposefully picked to e a perfect mix of sweet and sexy the baby pink dress and satin petticoat hitting at just the right length on your leg a snug fitting bodice and delicate gauzy straps finish the dress while white thigh highs with a pink bow and pink converse on your feet. Underneath a silk pink crotchless thong and bustier set makes you feel like the perfect coquettish princess and hopefully this outfit will do its magic throughout the day. Hair in perfect ringlets, a soft sweet makeup and a dab of your favorite perfume Gucci Guilty and you make your way downstairs and your jaw drops, Dieter who loves nothing more than his comfy clothes and crocs is in black converse high tops, black almost painted on jeans so tight you can see the curve of his sweet little ass, white button down henley sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his sexy forearms, and gray vest. Black leather fingerless gloves on his hands, his usual rings and a few chunky chains complete his look. His hair is spiky and messy and his glasses are thick black rims but look hot as hell on his face and you almost trip on the last stair. 

His hand grabs you, the massive size of it alone swallows your wrist and you regain composure. You smooth out your dress and have Dieter put your necklace on that he bought you a pink opal the size of a bottle cap. Gingerly he places the chain around your neck and kisses the nape after he secures it. His cell rings alerting him that the limo is 15 minutes away to take you two to the park. You share a quick joint, slap some gum in your mouth, grab your sleeping beauty loungefly and out the door you go for Dapper Dan day and for a special VIP tour of the park and rides that Dieter secured for you as a birthday present. He may not understand the logistics of it but he knows how special Disney is to you so if it puts a smile on your face he lives for it. You and your magic self saved him from a shitty life and career so to him you're his Cinderella, Belle and every other princess he can name. The limo arrives and whisks you two away to the happiest place on earth for some much needed fun and alone time. You pass lush trees and neatly manicured houses on your way to the park. 20 minutes pass and you are pulling into the VIP lot.

The park is abuzz for how early in the morning it is with people dressed as every era and style of Disney they can muster. A soft sun hits and the sky is nothing but blue clouds. You go to the vip entrance and meet your guide for the day Sophia, a college program trainee who is sweet-faced and bubbly. She is so happy she gets to be your guide and show you all the tricks of the park. The rope drop ceremony starts Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, Pluto, Donald and Daisy make their way out to greet everyone and cut the rope and confetti streamers pop as the mad dash to get on rides, shop and run in is happening all around you. Sophia takes you both for some coffee and she starts her tour. A few hours have passed and it's gotten warmer but pleasant and you two have had breakfast, shopped and went on Mad Tea Cups, Snow White, the carousel, for sweet pictures of course, Pirates of the Caribbean, Jungle Cruise, gotten dole whips, took castle pictures, gotten pixie dusted which Dieter enjoyed more than you somehow the glitter falling on his hair like snow shining in the sunlight and a few landing on his lips which you kissed off of him. Lunch was approaching and he took you to Be Our Guest for a private tour and pictures with Belle and The Beast in the library room. Sophia left to grab lunch with another vip guide so it gave you a little alone time to rest and take in the sights and sounds of one of your favorite movies come to life. After the main course was through DIeter whispered something to the waiter and off he went. Just the two of you alone the stained glass casting rainbow shadows on your faces he moved closer to you and rested his hand precariously high on your thigh drawing figure eights with his thumbs. “Are you having fun so far” he asked hoping that you were and that he did a good job with his gift choice. “Amazing, this has been the best day of my life so far, you are so thoughtful and sweet and you look so sexy” You put your hands on his chest and glided them down over the buttons on his vest, down his stomach and his belt and placed them square on either side of the bulge in his pants only lightly tapping your fingers on the outline of his cock when the waiter came waltzing back in the room with two glasses of champagne in fancy gold flutes. Dieter stared into your eyes black pupils that looked hungrily at you, down to your lips and back to your eyes again and he grabbed your hands in his and kissed them with the tiniest smirk forming on his lips. You turned to the waiter and each grabbed a flute and thanked him. He went away again to presumably settle the bill so you could be back on your way. You turned back to Dieter who still held both your hands in his massive one and swiped your thumb on his bottom lip which he grabbed and sucked on for only a second the pupils still blown black with lust. He took a sip of champagne and moved your chair close enough to his and guided you to his lap. He went to kiss you and the taste was sweet and buzzy the champagne and cookie mousse dessert intermingling with Dieter’s weed from earlier gave an interesting taste to his kiss bit you couldn’t care less. He let go of your hand and wound his hands in your curls savoring every kiss like it was his last, the headiness and the champagne made you feel like floating but you were grounded as if his lips and hands would never let go of you. When you finally took enough of a break for air you finished your champagne and his hand playfully grabbed your ass as you got up to join Sophia for the remainder of your tour. You rode more rides saw a parade, got a balloon and ended your tour at your hands down favorite ride Haunted Mansion.

You squealed with delight as you walked through the VIP line and noticed no one else was coming with you, “Why isn’t anyone else going on the ride” “One last surprise for you, I rented the ride out for our last hour of the tour so we have it all you ourselves” Dieter exclaimed You threw your arms around him face nuzzled into his neck and kissed him there “This is the craziest surprise ever, thank you love” You two walked hand and hand to the entrance where you bid Sophia goodbye and thanked her for being an amazing tour guide. The entrance was closed off and you began the pre show queue laughing to yourselves on how silly it was after all these years. You went down and entered your doom buggy,  a large black vehicle and began your journey on the ride. After the third or fourth trip around you were quoting stuff to each other finding little details and sitting on top of one another practically. On the 5th time around you were making your way up the hill to enter the beginning of the ride when it lurched to a stop. Wondering of there was a malfunction you waited about 5 minutes when a voice came over the speakers ``Don't worry there's a small glitch in the track programming but we’ll get you going again shortly” Sitting in almost complete darkness except for the blue, purple and silver ride lights you peered down to watch the ballroom scene partners dancing their ghostly forms captivating you. You enjoyed the fact that the ac was working and that you were cool. Lost in your thoughts and watching the forms dance  you felt large hands and long,strong arms wrap around you and pull you close. Lips found yours and the kissing began again, the pool of desire blossoming in your lacy panties, your hands finding their way through messy hair fingertips scratching the nape of his curls spurring him to kiss you harder and hold you tighter. The leather fingerless gloves making their way to cup you under your dress starting to pull off the petticoat underneath. You shift yourself enough to get the petticoat off and thrown to the side of the ride track. His fingers continue to creep upwards and you can see a surprised look when Dieter realizes he's touching bare skin, the wet fold of your sex already dripping.

He moves you onto his lap and you bookend his crotch and fingers with your thighs. One large finger at first teases you and his thumb makes steady pressure on your clit, another massive digit enters while his other arm holds you firmly in place. You rock back and forth unbuttoning his vest and throwing to the side of your vehicle and slowly unbutton the white henley more lips kissing down his neck and his collarbone and what you can reach of his chest, strong and golden and warmed by the sun earlier and your body heat now. He puts a third finger inside you and you buck your hips, moan and roll your eyes to the back of your head. Illuminated only by shadows and very little lighting you see that little smirk from earlier has grown into a full shit eating grin now as if it was the Cheshire Cat you were facing. His fingers deftly work inside you, scissoring and moving with deliberate urge as he stretches you and gets you wetter by the minute. In a brazen move he puts his last finger inside you and you mewl fisting his shirt and you buck and ride his fingers with ferocity. “ That my good girl, my dirty princess, taking all my fingers inside you all the way up to the leather knuckles of his glove, his cock twitching and growing harder underneath you as you are soaking his jeans with your slick. You hold his shirt in your fists and kiss him passionately working hard to move your dress up enough to undo his belt and button on his jeans, unzipping and moving just enough so he can slide them down and you notice he's commando. You take your fingers and slide it under your dress collecting some of your wetness and wrap your hand around his thick massive shaft and start pumping and making sure he's as hard as he can be. You scoot to the side so you can bend down and take his head in your mouth, rolling the foreskin back and licking it as you do as well as scooping up the salty drips of silver precum leaking out of the slit. You tongue his head and hear him moan and push his fingers in your deeper as you continue to blow your boyfriend on a Disney ride like it was an everyday occurrence. After a few more licks and pumps Dieter can’t take it anymore and gets you in position on top of him. “This pussy is mine, get ready for the ride of your life baby” voice dropping to that low octave bedroom voice he does on the tv show he’s on. 

You situate yourself and slide down his length slowly letting each inch by massive inch fill and stretch you, the slight sting making you even hornier as it drives you wild knowing he's all yours and this massive thick cock comes for you and you alone. Once you're fully engorged by him you start rocking your hips and he meets your rhythm at a steady pace of thrusts and each one feels deeper than the last, he fills and hits spots that make you see little stars each and every time. Without missing a beat he flips you onto the seat of the ride and stands behind you cock never leaving your entrance and pushes you down holding you to the seat bench with one hand the other alternates between pulling your hair to arch you even more open for him and smacking you on the ass with his hand or his belt making you scream and squirm and ask him for more. Dieter, always willing to oblige such requests, gives you exactly what you want unzipping your dress to mark you up your spine and your neck with his mouth little red marks you feel forming his hands undoubtedly will leave bruises in the same spot on your hips they always do, the slight pain becoming a badge of honor. He takes his belt and ties your wrists behind your back all while fucking into you at a hedonistic pace the thrusts making a sloppy wet sound that echoes in your buggy, his balls slapping against your ass along with his hand every once in a while just because he likes and knows what limits he can bring you too. His thrusts become harder and you know any moment now you are gonna explode the music from the ballroom dance scene below you coming to its crescendo as are you and as drums and violins hit their high notes you are exploding onto his dick fireworks are going off internally as he grabs you up by his belt and fucking gives you one of the most mind blowing knee buckling orgasms of your life and as you are trying to regain composure you feel a hot mouth near your ear face buried in your hair ready to explode as his breathing gets ragged and wth a few more deep cervix kissing thrusts your insides are being painted in white hot ropes of his cum his moans in your ear make your clit throb and he steadies himself by enveloping your breasts in his massive hands massaging them as he floats off his high and slumps onto the seat bench next to you. He takes his belt off your wrists and kisses them as you wiggle and stretch them, smoothing out your dress and hair. Lights begin to flicker back on as he’s pulling on his jeans and buttoning them and quickly grabbing the petticoat off the tracks. “ So so so sorry about that inconvenience we got the track working again so we will extend the private ride time for you. You giggle to each other as the ride starts up again and you leave your dancing ghost friends behind for the time being. You sit next to Dieter for the next 30 minutes or so coming off both your highs, fixing yourselves before the last ride loop and sweetly kiss each other the whole last go around.  Steadying yourself Dieter exits the ride first and helps you off and onto the moving walkway. You throw the petticoat in the garbage and walk out of the ride into the perfect golden hour, perfect time for a Mickey pretzel and the perfect photos. As you walk to explore more of the park you think which ride you want to conquer next and think of something slow and easy, maybe like small world…

As always thank you to my magical sluts.... love yall @sparklefarts38 @exquisiteserotonin @legendary-pink-dot @magpiepills @imalrightllama @redhotkitchen @youandmeand5bucks @arcanefox207

[star2fishmeg]

hi! would you maybe be able to do a w2s x reader where she’s friends with freezy and harry sometimes sees her but she’s only ever in just comfy wear, but then one time he sees her when she’s actually made some effort and he’s utterly smitten? if not that’s fine, love your writing!

Smitten

Pairing: Wroetoshaw x reader

Genre: borderline smut but not really but saucy?

Request: above

Warnings: swearing, hints of sex

(Thank you for requesting!! It makes me happy that you like my writing!! Apologies for the wait, college has been a pain!)

(I tried to make it a "read more" but its not working for some reason, apologies for that)

×××

The drive to Cal's wasn't that far, but too far too walk and she'd never take public transport. But driving would've been quicker since Cal told her about someone's party, and he thought she'd be interested.

-

She knocked heavily on his front door, wearing her usual attire of jogging bottoms and a t-shirt.

"Cal, open up!" She hollered, irritated of waiting.

Cal swung the door open, "You're finally here!"

"Its been twenty minutes, arsehole." She chuckled. They emerged into the living room, laughing and mainly hitting each other but stopped upon hearing Harry's laughter from his room, "I'm gonna go say hi."

Y/n dumped her bag in the spare room before creeping down to Harry's room on the other end of the hallway. She opened his door eerily and stood in the doorway. Upon seeing her figure, Harry flinched slightly in surprise, holding his chest.

"Christ, don't do that. You scared the shit out of me!" He laughed, the rest of the boys yelling from his headphones. Y/n crouched into some sort of goblin pose, hunching over, bending her knees and bringing her arms above her head and bending them in an odd way.

"I have arrived." Was all she spoke before, in the same pose, creeping backwards down the hallway. Harry turned back to his monitors smiling.

"Apologies for that, boys. Wasn't expecting a homeless goblin to pop by, not gonna lie."

Soon enough it was seven in the evening, Harry had finished filming and started to get ready for the party, throwing on a t-shirt and shorts. Meanwhile, in the living room, Y/n and Cal decided it would be funny to dress up as police officers (obviously costumes, nothing realistic). Cal in the shirt and black jeans with the hat and aviators, Y/n in a matching shirt with a few buttons undone while wearing black shorts, aviators and hat. Their laughter erupted through the house, Harry eventually being drawn to the source, ambled down the hallway to the living room. He stopped in his tracks, for the first time, he'd seen the goblin in something other than lounge wear and he wasn't disappointed.

"You ready, Champ?" Y/n snapping her fingers in front of his eyes, grabbing his attention back to reality. He nodded, following the pair outside for the Uber sheepishly.

They waited impatiently, Y/n folding her arms and tapping her foot, looking left and right for the car. Cal poked Harry's shoulder and leant closer to his ear, noticing the sweat drizzling down his forehead.

"Harry, mate...ask her out it's pretty obvious." He scoffed, mockingly.

"Wh-wha-what are you chatting? It's fine, what do you mean? She's just wearing something different." Harry stammered, giving Cal a half-smile.

Cal smirked, "She wears something different everyday...you're just definitely in love right now."

"You're such a dickhead, you know that? I'm just surprised!" Harry slapped his chest, pretending to look out for the Uber.

"Sure, sure."

-

Sweat dripped down his forehead as the strobe lights kept the atmosphere moving. Bodies weaving and moving together to the bass rattling through the speakers. Cal moved closer to Harry's ear, notifying his exit to the bar. Y/n pulled the boy deeper into the dancefloor, placing her hands on his flushed cheeks as she swayed her hips into him. He grinned, cupping his hands over hers, popping her hat onto his head playfully, knowing she wouldn't reach it. But she didn't reach for it, she just winked and lead him out the crowds towards the tables. He was in his own world now, the music had become nothing but a buzz, the people blurs: she was all he could focus on in those tight shorts, tight shorts he oh so confidently knew she'd worn on purpose to tease him, because she was like that. She enjoyed teasing him, because she liked his eyes on her. They were her favourite shade of blue and fit his smile well. She lead him to a set of sofas in the corner, sitting down and patting the space next to her.

"You can chill, no need to be so nervous." She giggled. He hesitantly sat while she scooted closer, their thighs touching.

"Uh, do you, uh want a drink?" He kicked himself, of course she didn't, Cal was clearly at the bar waiting for their drinks. But he couldn’t focus on, she was pressing her chest into his arm and squeezing his thigh and it made him melt. "Actually, fuck that, are-are you seducing me?"

She grinned, giggling, "Maybe. I chose this outfit especially."

"Well, well, it's fucking working." Y/n ran a finger down his jawline, tipping his head to look at her in the eyes. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips before pulling back and smiling. "You sly bitch, do it again." Y/n kissed him again, but with more pressure this time, sliding both her hands to his jaw and the back of his neck. His hands, large and secure around waist, pulled her body onto his lap, pressing her into him. She rolled her hips as their lips melted into each other's rhythm. The noise of the club morphed into an echo again, as if they were in their own bubble, and all they could hear was the ruffles of their clothes contacting and the faint moans of sensation from their throats.

Their moment ended when Cal whistled from opposite them, with no drinks. "Look at you two! Ya' dirty dogs!" He joked. They pulled away, Y/n twisting around to stick her finger up at him.

"Let me guess, Squeezy, you forgot to buy us drinks due to the fact you're drunk and was chatting up someone? Yeah, let's go." She mocked, sliding off Harry's lap, making sure he got a good view of her cleavage before helping him up. She started walking, waving for them to follow. "Come on lads, I've got unfinished business to attend to!" Harry smirked at Cal, following in confidence and wrapping his arm around her waist while they left the club into the chill of the early hours.

[therucrap]

RPDR 13 Episode 1 RuCrap

Hello dear internet! I just started a new page for my first ever RPDR RuCrap so please share and follow and I’ll continue if they catch on! Hope you enjoy!

The lucky 13th season of RuPaul’s Trauma Spectacular launches with the promise of “all new surprises” and a brand new twist that will leave you wondering how you ever sat through a boring old premiere with a coherent intro, climax, and conclusion when you could be enduring a dizzying hour and a half of WOW presents Happy Death Day 3: Covid Edition!

We open up on the trusty trauma center - I mean Werk Room - and the first to enter is NYC’s “Dominican Doll” and human drag lingo See ‘N Say Kandy Muse in an elaborate bejeweled patchwork jean mini dress and MATCHING DENIM BOOMBOX and she immediately informs us that we may know her from the now former Haus of Aja which was recently deconstructed like the pair of Wranglers that Kandy is wearing as fingerless gloves. Kandy is no longer alone in VIP because the befeathered Joey Jay arrives and half-heartedly delivers her intro line. “Filler queen!” We discover that Kandy is likely going to provide our Greek chorus confessional this season and all in a soft smoky eye when she informs us uncultured swine that Joey is wearing the cheapest variety of feather - chicken. Kandy didn’t construct an entire outfit from the remnants section of a Joanne Fabrics and not learn a thing or two about quality, sweetie! Joey is determined to beat viewers to the punchline and immediately clucks around branding herself as “basic” and “filler.” Joey is from the city of Phoenix (and possibly the online University as well) but she’s here to rise like a chicken!

Thunder mysteriously rumbles as RuPaul appears on the digitally enhanced Werk room TV but what could this be?! For all you newbies this is one of the several instances in every season where Ru mixes things up and gives us what we really want: a twist that is equal parts confusing, fucks up the natural order of the competition, and is ultimately unfulfilling! Come on season 13, let’s put a bunch of queer people through even more turmoil in a pandemic! Ru has a surprise but they’ll have to head to the mainstage to get the full story that they’ll be recounting to a mental health professional later!

We’re merely four minutes in and here comes Ru down the runway dressed like a glitterdot jellyfish! Our tour guide on Trauma Island introduces us to the main panel of judges for the season - Disco Morticia Addams and the two human Trapper Keepers who are now separated by glass because for the first time in Drag Race herstory we’re in the middle of a international health crisis, mawma!

Now let’s get down to trauma! Ru explains that the queens will be pairing off to lipsync unexpectedly as they enter! What could possibly go wrong? Well if you’re hoping that someone comes in wearing blades on their feet well just stick around because I have quite the treat for you! Our Dungaree Diva and the Chicken Feather Filler hit the Mainstage looking as confused as Shangela researching CDC protocol on her way to Puerto Vallarta last week. The judges interview our test subjects and immediately bring up the Haus of Aja and Kandy clarifies that she’s now an esteemed member of The Doll Haus along with last season’s ever-gorgeous Dahlia Sinn. I personally prefer not to say that Dahlia was eliminated first but instead that she was season 12’s brocco-leading lady! (Writer’s note: if you’re thinking “there’s a drag show called The Doll Haus in my hometown... is it THAT Doll Haus?!” No, there’s a drag show called The Doll Haus in almost every city in America but now, like with the former Sharon Needles, Kim Chis, and Penny Trations of the world, this one’s been on TV and alas, the others must now rename themselves)! Joey also charms the judges with her plucky demeanor and it’s already time to lipsync feather they like it or not!

Gay anthem Call Me Maybe by Canadian legend Carley Rae Jepson begins and Kandy immediately pushes a fake button on her DENIM BOOMBOX to start the party. Honestly... crown her right there on the spot. We will ALWAYS give points for prop work and the Carrot Top of the Bronx does not disappoint. Both are energetic but it’s The Dutchess of Denim who wins by infusing humor and our feathered friend is given “the Porkchop” but before we can even wrap our head around what this means for the state of the competition we snap back to the Werk Room to meet our next unsuspecting victims!

Now dear reader, this is the part where I’m just going to cut the shit. The set-up they’re selling us is that the losers of these premiere lipsyncs will be eliminated from the show but they are obviously not about to Porkchop half of the cast on day one so just stick with me while we suspend disbelief and go on RuPaul’s Totally Twisted Trauma Adventure as she convinces 6 gay people who just spent upwards of $10,000 on clothing, jewelry, and hair and then meticulously packed it into regulation suitcases to travel here during a pandemic after probably not making any money for the last four months (this was filmed in July) that they are going home on day one! This herstory-making twist, like so many before it, exemplifies the show’s worst qualities: a lack of empathy for its contestants, an underestimation of viewer intelligence and ability to decode heavy-handed editing witchery, and its love for completely dismantling its own format every year for the sake of drama. Whatever keeps the Emmy’s coming, baby! When you’re on the other side of one of these twists you usually feel like you just finished your morning coffee only to find out that the barista gave you decaf. Your mind will be blown when it’s happening but the payoff is usually at the expense of the show’s own legitimacy. With that said... this is the punishment we come to gleefully endure every year and we’re not here to complain, we’re here to watch gay people break down, dammit!

It’s deja Ru all over again as we snap back to the Werk Room where Chicago’s Denali walks in on ice skates and immediately ruins any chance of a deposit return for the bumpy, rented roll-out vinyl floors and declares “Let me break the ice!” She’s wearing the expensive feathers that Joey Jay didn’t spring for. Denali might not be the first ice skater on Drag Race but she’s the one I didn’t watch shit on a dick on Twitter last week so let’s give credit where it’s due. Ugh I wish Trinity the Tuck could block THAT from my memory! Next up is Atlanta’s Lala Ri whose white blazer, body suit, and unteased hair is immediately called basic by an icy Denali in confessional. Denali is confident but we know something that she doesn’t and Lala is wearing a sensible dancing ankle boot not two blades on her feet so let’s see how this turns out!

The lipsync song is “When I Grow Up” by Nicole Scherzinger and her assistants who were accidentally given microphones a few times! Denali struggles to conceal her wayward nipples during some ambitious dance moves and all while in skates but Lala gives us a good old fashioned drag performance and a big finale split unbothered by an elaborate costume and ultimately ices Denali who signs off with “Feeling icy, feeling spicy!” Asking these queens to lipsync upon entering is one thing but asking them to improvise their exit lines 10 minutes in is just cruel!

Denali heads backstage devastated where SURPRISE... Joey Jay is sitting alone in a sad room made of plywood walls featuring a bunch of pictures of first eliminated queens, an ominous “Porkchop Loading Dock” sign, and some cocktail tables with no cocktails (how dreadful).

Before we get the full picture and God for bid our bearings on Mr Charles’ Wild Ride let’s leave this plywood hellscape and jump back into the familiar comfort of the Werk Room’s pixelated neon pink faux brick walls where LA’s modelesque Symone stomps in wearing a dress made of tiny Polaroids of herself. She’s stylish, her energy is fresh, and she’s clearly one to watch. Then dear reader life as we know it changes. A breeze comes through the room and God herself blesses us when living legend and matriarch of the Iman dynasty Tamisha Iman from Atlanta arrives in a pointy-shouldered red power suit and proclaims to us simple townsfolk “Holler at me, I know you know me. Holler at me, I know you know me. Tamisha is here!” The sea parts, the crops are replenished, and all war stops on Earth. On stage Tamisha reveals that she’s been doing drag for 30 years (which seems like a long time to us mere mortals) and that she was originally cast last season but was diagnosed with colon cancer two days later and had to stay home for chemo. The lipsync gods wisely choose The Pleasure Principle by Janet Jackson and Tamisha gives us exact Janet arm choreo while Simone is sultry yet commanding as she shakes her Polaroids. The judges determine that Simone was picture perfect and American hero Tamisha Iman is sent to Porkchop’s Shipping Crate of Horrors to join the nest with the fancy feather option and the chicken feather option.

We begrudgingly crawl back onto RuPaul’s ever-circling carousel of doom and plop back into the workroom where accomplished LA celebrity makeup artist GottMik stomps in wearing a wacky toile dress and a full face of white makeup declaring that it’s “Time to crash the system!” GottMik is Drag Race’s first trans man contestant (and first knowingly cast trans contestant at all) for which we cheer excitedly and then immediately look at our watches because that took too long. Next up Minneapolis’s towering Utica wriggles in with a sneeze and declares “She’s sickening!” which is just the pandemic humor I came here for! Contaminate me, mom! This gay scarecrow is wearing a series of crazy patterns and a big strawberry on her head and the two of them appear to be from the same traveling circus. These two Big Comfy Couch characters slink over to the main stage where Utica explains that her cranial statement fruit symbolizes tackling obstacles because she used to be allergic to strawberries as a kid but she grew out of it. In RuPaul’s heavy universe of heart wrenching struggles that contain chronic illness and societal rejection, Utica’s animated world that suffers only of outgrown childhood strawberry problems is a welcome one. These two lanky rag dolls will be lipsyncing to Rumors by her majesty Lady Lohan of Mykonos and the vibe is instantly wacky. I wouldn’t say that either of them are the next Kennedy Davenport but they did complement each other well on the invisible obstacle course they were both miming through. Utica’s hair flops over her eye, there’s galloping and floor humping, GottMik does a split, there’s elbows and knees aplenty, and all that’s missing is dancing poodles. The judges are tickled by the kookiness of both of these human windsocks but Gotmikk snatches the win. Neither of these two are going to win So You Think You Can Dance but luckily this is RuPaul’s So You Think You Can Trauma so we’re in luck!

Our homosexual Groundhog Day continues back in the Werk Room where we meet NYC’s Rosé who gets the Brita treatment where she’s presented as a legendary New York queen and then the editors quickly get to work making her look delusional. She’s accomplished, confident, and Drag Race’s favorite personality type to dismantle and then trick into returning to All-Stars for a redemption only to dismantle again. Rosé’s fresh-faced foil Olivia Lux enters and lights up the place right away in a velvet pink and yellow gown. She’s a humble NYC newby who has competed in shows hosted by the established Rosé and we already know what’s about to happen here. The lipsync is Exes and Oh’s by Elle King which which was a choice. Olivia strips off her gown to reveal a bodysuit so she can really articulate and Rosé does the world’s least exciting split that looked like me trying unsuccessfully separate wooden chopsticks. Olivia triumphs and Rosé fizzles as she heads to the It Didn’t Werk Room aka Porkchop’s sparsely decorated storage closet to be with the other Have Nots.

We’re almost to the finish line and we limp, slightly disoriented, back to the Werk Room where we meet Tina Burner, another NYC theater kid with the confidence of a thousand Patti LuPones who is dressed like a Ronald McDonald firefighter. What she lacks in nuance she makes up for in nonstop fire puns. Next Chicago’s glamorous Kahmora Hall saunters in glowing and is clearly unimpressed with Tina’s constant Joan Rivers impression but maintains a full pageant smile. No choice but to stan. Our final queen is the refreshingly optimistic Elliott with 2 T’s who busts in wearing a bolero jacket, some red pants from the store, and a short pink wig that screams “Sorry I’m late! Here’s my flash drive! I can go on whenever!” Elliott dances in sing-talking her entrance line like the TGIFriday’s server she is: “I’m the queen you want to see. Elliot with two T’s. Okay! Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh! Okay!” Elliot is a dancer from Las Vegas and has the unhinged camp counselor energy of someone with snacks in her purse at all times.

On the Mainstage Tina cycles through the last of her introductory fire puns and tells the judges she was in a boy band which honestly tracks. Tina and Rosé share a similar NYC gotta-get-a-gimmick energy but for some reason production has decided to give Rosé the womp womp edit and Tina the superstar edit. The song is Lady Marmalade because we haven’t been though enough and Kahmora serves subdued sexy glamour, Elliott does the splits, and Tina bobs and weaves between the two with full play-to-the-back-row comedy queen energy. Tina extinguishes the dreams of the other two and RuPaul sends the final two losers to the chokey.

The worst is over (we think) and our frazzled cast of hopefuls finally gets to know eachother in their two very different groups. The winning queens in the Werk Room are celebrating and as blissfully unaware of the doom around them as Miss Vanjie and Silky Ganache at a Puerto Vallarta circuit party during a pandemic. Over in Porkchop’s Junk Drawer the camera looms unnecessarily close to the crestfallen losers’ now disheveled wigs and sweat drenched makeup. Ru’s voice bellows over the speaker to tell this motley crew to get out and then as the last bit of light leaves their weary eyes she checks back in to tell them that she wasn’t serious! Oh good! Finally a moment of mercy for these once hopeful queens on their first day of RuPaul’s Wipeout! She then reveals that the full twist is that she is only going to send one home but they have to vote amongst the group of losers to decide who it is! Yes, that’s correct! This group of broken queens who just met and mostly have never seen eachother perform will now be expected to turn on eachother and give up their last bit of dignity to either grovel or just straight up fight with eachother! This must be what the Donner Party’s last night looked like. The queens look around broken and wounded but still hungry, their eyes barely open, their lacefronts only partially attached to their heads, and start deciding which of their own is about to get consumed. Her highness Tamisha Iman reminds them "Well, I'm the only black girl so don't vote me off” and just like that we are TO BE CONTINUED!

Thus concludes our first headspinning episode that despite being reliably frustrating has once again sucked us in and against our better judgement entertained us to the fullest! As for our 13 queens- you can use code HERSTORY on Talkspace while relaying tonite’s events to a sickening liscensed therapist!

[illfoandillfie]

Thief

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Female Reader

Summery: Roger wants his shirt back

Warnings: Smut (but nothing especially kinky)

Words: 2327

A/N: Most of this was written between midnight an 2am on my birthday when it was sad lonely bitch hours so it’s self indulgent as heck. Just some soft fluff with a little soft smut at the end. 

(the shirt in question, i love it so much)

Taglist: @idontbelievethiss

Roger’s walk-in wardrobe was your guilty pleasure. You loved exploring it. Could happily spend hours running your fingers over all the different fabrics in there. Most of the clothing that was hung up or folded neatly in the draws was stuff he used regularly – every day shirts, jeans, a section for stuff he’d take on tour – but towards the back of the wardrobe was a collection of his older stuff, split between a row of hangers and a number of boxes. That was the stuff you really loved rummaging through. He’d been collecting it for years. Most of it was stuff he kept for sentimental reasons, he’d worn it at such and such show or so and so and given it to him. Some of it was stuff he’d had for so long it felt wrong to get rid of it. A lot of it was still in good condition too, just out of style. A relic from his youth, bold and bright and totally him. That was the stuff you loved best and whenever the opportunity arose to go digging for treasure you took it.  

You took the treasure too, sometimes. One time, while Rog was away on tour, you’d been having a particularly rough day and hadn’t been able to contact him. Desperate to be wrapped up in his arms, you’d taken a large glass of wine and started going through his clothes. You’d found an old beaten up hoodie which you couldn’t believe he’d held on to. It must have held some significance for him because it was faded and frayed and nothing particularly special next to everything else in there. But it was warm and soft and still smelt faintly of Roger even though it must have been years since he’d worn it. You’d slipped it on over your head, breathing deeply, trying to control your emotions but had ended up crying yourself to sleep right there on the floor of the wardrobe. Since then you’d pulled it out whenever Rog was away for an extended amount of time. It was comforting and reminded you of one of his hugs and you loved it.

Another time you’d been throwing together a last minute costume for a party Freddie was hosting. Roger pulled you into the cupboard exclaiming he had something perfect to finish off your costume if he could only find it. In the second box he opened was a pair of rainbow suspenders which he handed to you with a giant grin on his face. They were just what you needed, though you did make fun of Rog a little for owning them in the first place. At the party a few people had commented on them, asking you if they were the same ones Rog had owned, and when you said yes, they told you stories, reminiscing about a time before you knew him. Freddie managed to find a few photos of Rog wearing the suspenders and told you how they’d called him Rainbow. It led to you being shown a bunch of photos of Rog as a young man and you’d laughed in disbelief at how long his hair was while he insisted it had been very fashionable. You loved hearing those stories from the people who knew him best and when you’d finally got home you put the suspenders back in the box carefully, feeling a little closer to the man you loved.  

Sometimes you felt a little like a magpie, stealing things from him. Big things like an old fur coat you’d worn around the house constantly one winter, or a gorgeous velvet jacket which you couldn’t stop running your hands over when you’d first found it. Small things like a pair of aviator sunglasses, one of what seemed to be a hundred different pairs of sunnies, which made you feel like a rockstar even though they were prescriptions and turned your vision wavy. Or the necklace you hadn’t taken off since its discovery, a simple silver band which, you knew from photos, Roger had worn tight like a choker, but you preferred a little looser. For Christmas last year Rog had surprised you with a delicate circle charm to add to it, the back engraved with both your initials.

Your interest in his old clothes was something that bemused Roger. On more than one occasion he’d found you on your knees digging through a box and had rolled his eyes at you. But whenever he saw you wearing one of your stolen items his eyes lit up and he’d give you a soft smile that made your knees weak. Sometimes he’d remark that he’d completely forgotten he still had said item and then proceed to tell you why he’d kept it. Sometimes you’d convince him to try whatever it was on himself. If it still fit enough that he could put it on he’d pretend he was on a catwalk as he strutted away from you before turning around and posing, and if it didn’t, he’d pull it on as best he could and ask you how he looked. Either way you’d both end up on the floor laughing, sometimes with Roger half stuck in a too small pair of jeans or jacket.  

Your most recent acquisition from your magpie habit was one of his newer shirts. It was blue with an orange check pattern and Roger hadn’t noticed you’d stolen it yet. Not that you’d stolen this in the same way you’d stolen everything else. This one was a complete accident. You’d gotten out of bed early one morning and felt around in the dark for the shirt Roger had so kindly discarded for you the night before. You’d slipped on the first shirt you found and made your way to the bathroom, not worrying about pants since the shirt fell down over your thighs. That should have been a clue that it wasn’t yours but it was much too early for your brain to be working. You didn’t notice it was Roger’s shirt until you were washing your hands and caught your reflection. Any trace of sleepiness left you as you examined your reflection, admiring the way the shirt fell around you. You spent a few minutes undoing and redoing buttons, comparing how much cleavage was shown off each way and wondering what it’d look like if you were wearing your favourite bra underneath. It felt so soft and light against your skin and it was warm even as you stood on cold tiles. You could understand why Rog wore it so often. When you got back to your room you pulled it off again, catching a whiff of Roger’s aftershave as you brought it over your head, before snuggling back into Roger’s arms, hoping to squeeze in round two before either of you had to be up for real. Since then you’d worn it whenever the chance arose, mostly just around the house when Roger was out. You knew he really liked the shirt and wore it fairly frequently so it wasn’t really one you could steal but you couldn’t help yourself, it just felt so nice to wear.  

This morning you’d woken to find Rog already gone. The band were deep in Live Aid rehearsals and today was their last before the big day so you weren’t expecting him home till much later. You got up and straight away switched your own shirt for his, your new favourite, rubbing your hand up and down the sleeve a couple of times just to feel the fabric. You you’d wear it until you had a shower and then you’d put your own clothes on. You headed to the kitchen to make coffee and find something to eat. You were examining the contents of the fridge when a voice in the hallway made you jump. “Hey, hon, you up?” “In the kitchen!” You called out over your shoulder, “How come you’re back so early?” “We did a couple of run throughs which went well enough that we decided to take the rest of the day off. Don’t wanna overwork ourselves,” his voice trailed off towards the end as he caught sight of you bent over as you looked in the fridge, “is that my shirt?” You looked down, the shirt having slipped your mind in favour of food.   “Oh, yeah it is. Wanted something comfy and this was the first thing I found,” you shrugged, turning and shutting the fridge behind you. “How was a shirt that was hanging in my wardrobe the first thing you found? I was gonna wear that tomorrow.” “Busted,” You’re a little thief,” his tone was playful but it still sent a shiver down your spine. “Am not,” you pouted “Fur coat. Necklace. Hoodie,” he started counting on his fingers, “should I keep going?” “No, you’ve made your point, but I prefer the term pilferer.” You rocked back on your heels, “Can’t you wear something else tomorrow? This shirt is ridiculously comfy,” “I could, but I don’t want to.” “Well, I s’pose you can have it back. Gonna have to catch me first though,” And with that you took off, running out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Roger’s legs were longer than yours and he took the stairs three at a time, catching up to you fast. You squealed as he caught you around the waist, pulling you into him as he entered the bedroom backwards. “Gotcha. Now can I have my shirt back?” he said softly, his breath tickling your ear. “Only if you take it.” Roger turned you around to face him. He began to unbutton the shirt slowly, your skin breaking out in goose bumps whenever his fingers brushed against it. “As incredibly attractive as you look in it,” he said, his warm breath ghosting over your face as his finger continued their descent, “I really have to insist.”   His touch was torturously light and slow, and his lips so close to yours, but you were frozen, completely unable to close the distance between you. All you could do was look into his eyes, occasionally shifting your focus to his lips, and try to remember how to breath properly.  

When he’d finally gotten all of the buttons undone, he traced his finger up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts, and up your neck until he was able to press his fingers to the underside of your chin and tilt your head up. He pressed his lips to yours, softly, and you melted into him. You opened your mouth willingly, inviting him to deepen the kiss. As he did so, he pushed his shirt off your shoulders and down your arms till it was a puddle on the floor. He kept kissing you, sighing into your mouth as he walked you backwards towards the bed, only breaking the kiss to push you onto it. You scooted back to be more comfortable and he followed until he was hovering over you. His fingers brushed over the necklace lightly, the cool metal contrasted against your warm skin. You looped your arm around his neck, pulling him back to your lips, as his hand ran down your side, coming to rest on your waist.  

Every brush of his fingers, every swipe of his tongue had your stomach tightening with anticipation and need, until you couldn’t bear it any longer. “Rog, please.” you breathed out against his lips. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to your jaw, then to your neck. He crawled down your body, leaving a trail over your chest and stomach, your skin burning with desire in his wake. When he reached your hips, he slowly peeled your underpants down your legs, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh, making you whine. When he’d finally freed you of your underwear, he began removing his own clothes, much faster than he had yours. Without his hands on you, your skin felt bare and cold. You sighed as he crawled back over you, his touch restoring peace to your world, his lips finding their rightful place against yours. He slipped a finger into your wet core, followed by a second making your back arch into him.   “Ready love?” He asked softly withdrawing his fingers from you. “Rog, y’know when I said please earlier? Yeah, I’ve been ready since then. Hurry up and fuck me already.” “Christ, I love you Y/N,” You could feel his body shaking with laughter as he grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “I’ll love you a whole lot more when you let me cum,” “Whatever my little thief wants,” he replied, lining himself up and pushing into you. You would have rolled your eyes at him but you were distracted by how full you felt, squeezing his hand as he began slowly rocking his hips against you. He kept a steady rhythm, drawing soft ‘oh’s and gasps from you with every thrust. His voice was low and raspy as he told you how good you felt around him, how irresistible you looked wearing nothing but his old necklace, how much he loved you. You felt your orgasm approaching and could tell Roger was close from the way he was panting against you. You chanted Roger’s name like a prayer as you clenched around him, pulling him into his own release.  

Roger rolled onto his side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. You pushed some hair, damp with sweat, out of his face and traced your finger down his nose. “What’re you doing?” “Admiring you,” you pushed the end of his nose like it was a button, “boop.” He stuck out his tongue, making you giggle. “I do love you Rog,” “I know.” You hummed happily, content to stay like this forever. “I’m going to have to buy you your own shirt, aren’t I?” “Only if you want to keep yours.”

[carrotsforthewin]

the way i love - chapter 0

so here it is, a short fortaste of what this fic is going to be about. have fun reading it and hope you’ll just die as much through the chapters as i did. with love, shiho

Back to school season is so fresh that you still think twice when buying from any paper stores, doubling the prices is such a nice marketing trick. Your dormitory move-in-day was yesterday and you were still settling in and getting used to everything, being a freshman in university should be half struggle-half fun. The room wasn’t that big, considering it was just a bedroom with a small bathroom, the room opened to a hallway which led you to the common area, a kitchen and a washing room. It was nice, the girls were helpful and kind - but who knows what will the future reveal, right? Trusting people is hard, especially when you gave all of your trust to someone just to realize it doesn’t mean a thing to them. People are snakes.

The room had a bunk bed that had a desk underneath it, a closet, a mirror hanging on the wall and a worn couch with an end table and lamp, a couple of shelves decorated the walls above it. Your clothes were neatly packed away, some books already on the shelves, everything you needed for university on the desk or inside it and of course some fairy lights beside your bed. Now all you need to do is check yourself for the last time: a white button-up with classic black jeans and white sneakers is what you planned to wear for the first day. It was a welcoming day for freshmen, as one would say, so you wanted to look sharp and classy, calm and collected - showing the exact opposite of what you were. But you were trying to change, to become a woman, a badass one who left the naive highschool girl behind her back - like it was that easy, huh? Some memories came to the surface, some of your “hiccups”, they still stung like hell, but you just got your jacket on and brushed off these - at least you’re not stupid enough to do them again.

 The day went by considerably fast, they showed your class most of the campus, at least the buildings you will have to attend classes in and some of the things you can find around here, the huge library was one of the interesting things for sure. Since most of you spread out after coordination, you decided to visit one of the cafés and get some pastry with a latte, in package, because for once you wanted to be the aesthetic kid, who ate her lunch in the park around campus. This seemed one of your best ideas every, a chocolate filled croissant and music in a somewhat calm atmosphere. You almost decided you’re going to do this every day. 

Until you saw a familiar pair of eyes and now you were back in high school, being the naive you.

  2 years ago.

It was like in every movie, every love-plot ever. You fall in love with one of those good looking heartbreakers and you think you could have their heart, change them and maybe someday get married. You knew this is not exactly how things will go down, but still, there was that foolish hope inside your chest... He was a senior, you a year under him. He wasn’t exactly that one guy who got every girl, but he was in a friend group with those guys, and this friendship was tight even with those who graduated. Sometimes you envied boys for being such loyal “bros”. You had your own group of friends, friends who you could count on any time of the day, but only one who you really shared everything with and trusted enough to do so.

This story did not go that easy though, went the cliché way for sure. You saw him talk to girls, lean against them with their backs to either a wall or a locker - and damn, would you like to be there too.

It was close to Halloween and thanks to some “creative” heroes of the school, it became a tradition to dress up on October’s last Friday to school. You wanted to take your costume to the next level, but neither shipping nor your laziness worked with you. So your remaining choices were either a mainstream anime highschool girl with a skirt so revealing you didn’t even ask why one of your friends has it, or you picked out a comfy outfit and put those realistic cat ears on. Great, now you’re a furry. It was getting cold outside, so you got your knitted socks and trusty boots out, a pair of ripped jeans and a sweater that was close to the cat ears in shade, you didn’t bother too much with make-up though. There were some great, cosplay worthy costumes and some lazy or last-minute like yours. Your trusty friend, Nat dressed up as Peggy Carter being Captain America, and damn did she look good. Others were making their favorite characters from numerous series, books and videogames come alive. It was fun seeing people being polar opposites to themselves and act the way their character does. Naturally, you took pictures or got asked to do pictures with people, but never have you ever thought that your cat ears would get attention from that particular person. Kim Mingyu. He was dressed up as a casual teenage vampire with fake blood around his mouth, or at least you hoped it wasn’t someone’s. You were waiting for Nat to finish her class so you could grab lunch together because you both were almost starving for sure. - Where did you lose your tail, little one? - you heard his voice coming from your right, you turned with your expression slightly confused. You should play it cool, but how? - Cat’s got your tongue, huh? - He laughed and his whole face lit up, amused by your expression. - I just finished my lunch, but I don’t drink milk, so there you go, kitten. - Kitten? You wanted to ask but by that, he was on the other end of the hallway. He was sure tall for someone who doesn’t drink milk. So much about playing it cool, you couldn’t even react he was so confident and quick.

 And just like that the croissant lost its taste and you felt like you’re going to throw up from another sip from the latte, you realized you hated the music that blasted through your headphones, you hated the tree you sat under, you hated the campus, the university, the whole city and especially those damned eyes. You hated those eyes, the warmth of them, how they reflected the light, the love that was never in them. You hated everything. You wanted to get away as quick as possible. You felt the teardrops stinging the corner of your eyes, the burning feeling in your throat.

And he looked at you with those eyes that you once wanted to call home.

[mymerianmuses-blog]

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