#Best camping tents of 2023

[sohel24]

See our guide to the best camping tents of 2023, with reviews of best family tents for car camping and base camping from REI, Coleman, ...

[oskuleinonenphotography]

From Tents to Treetops: Exploring the World of Glamping - Glamping Definition

Visit https://amzn.to/3p0eJkc AND https://homeyroamy.com/understanding-glamping-definition-and-meaning-explained/ for more inspiring ideas about glamping. Glamping, or glamorous camping, is a form of luxury camping that combines the experience of camping with the comforts and amenities of a hotel. Glamping can include a variety of accommodations, such as yurts, tents, cabins, or even treehouses. These accommodations are typically furnished with comfortable beds and high-quality linens and often feature private bathrooms and kitchenettes. Glamping sites may offer amenities like hot tubs, gourmet meals, and guided activities. Glamping allows individuals to experience the beauty of nature without sacrificing comfort and luxury. It has become a popular trend in the travel industry for those seeking a unique and upscale outdoor experience. Glamping, short for glamorous camping, is a recent trend in the travel industry. It refers to a style of camping that combines the natural beauty and simplicity of camping with the luxurious amenities found in high-end hotels. Glamping accommodations are typically spacious tents or yurts equipped with comfortable beds, high-quality linens, and often, private bathrooms. In addition, glamping sites may offer gourmet meals, spa treatments, and other activities not typically associated with traditional camping. This unique and luxurious experience allows travelers to connect with nature in a comfortable and upscale setting while still enjoying the excitement and adventure of camping. #glamping #glampinglife #luxurycamping As an Pop Up Hot Tent Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

[crossdreamers]

LGBTQ-refugees in Kenya are facing a tough dilemma

Photo: Nakafeero Swabulah, a young lesbian LGBTQ-leader in the Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya

Ugandan LGBTQ refugees in Kenya's Kakuma camp face a difficult choice between staying there with little hope for resettlement or moving to South Sudan's Gorom camp, which offers better prospects for relocation to LGBTQ-friendly countries.

The refugees fled severe and violent persecution in Uganda but continue to face discrimination and violence in the camps.

While the UN aims to help, they are constrained by the need to maintain good relations with local governments.

The government of Kenya is not accepting persecution for being LGBTQ a valid reason for refugee status. The local LGBTQ movement has won some victories, but also many tragic losses.

Some refugees have moved from Kakuma to Gorom, where the US and Canadian governments have granted resettlement status to several Ugandan refugees. However, the actual relocation process is complex and uncertain.

Photo: Ugandan LGBTQ-refugee from Gorom on his way to Canada

Nakafeero, an LGBTQ refugee leader, is considering moving her group from Kakuma to Gorom. She is currently visiting Gorom to assess conditions and gather information.

She says that the camp provides basic housing and services, but resources are limited and costs are higher than in Kenya.

The situation remains fluid, with refugees spread between both camps.

Unfortunately a large number of African countries persecute LGBTQ people. The argument is that being gay or trans is against local tradition and that queer identities are part of Western colonialism. The opposite is true. It was for the most part Western colonial powers that introduced the kind of bigotry we see today, and it is Western right wing religious fundamentalists that feed the flames of hate now.

Photo: UN refugee tents in the Gorom camp in South Sudan.

More here: Where to find hope of escape: In Kenya or South Sudan?

See also:

A lesbian refugee from Uganda is doing her best to assist LGBT people living in a refugee camp in Kenya. You can help her.

Report from a young Ugandan lesbian refugee in Kenya.

LGBTQ Kakuma refugees decide to move to South Sudan camp in hope of repatriation

Petition demands Kenyan government stop discriminating against queer asylum seekers

Gay and targeted in Uganda: Inside the extreme crackdown on LGBTQ rights

Uganda’s 2023 anti-homosexuality act is already costing the country.

Donations to LGBTQ-refugees in Kakuma in Kenya.

Donations to LGBTQ-refugees in Gorom in South Sudan

[ficbrish]

Stay A While

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

[AO3 Link]

[Kinktober 2023 prompt thanks to @absurdthirst! October 21st - Hair Pulling, Masturbation]

[[TW/CW: Cptsd, blood]]

Summary: Astarion wants to linger the morning after one of their initial trysts.

Takes place in Act I.

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

“Where do you think you’re going?” Astarion’s droll tone harbored a tinge of excitement.

Vistri froze in her tracks, but answered with her back still to him, “Surely the others are waiting.”

He clicked his tongue with a slow shake of his head. “Back to camp,” he observed dryly, drawing out the word camp, then giggled, “How droll!”

She turned to face him; not an agreement to stay, just to hear him out. His pointy-toothed grin charmed her more than she’d like to admit.

“What’s the rush, darling?” he asked mischievously.

The only rush she felt was her pulse, but she couldn’t say that even if he already sensed it. Admittances such as those were for late nights spent together—Well… They said those sweet things all the time, and to anyone, but it was different when they actually meant it. Truth belonged to the midnight hours and their illusions, where it could hide in the dark. But it was simply out of place under the sun.

Vistri crossed her arms, suppressing a creeping smile, “I’m guessing you have other ideas?”

Admittedly, Astarion was curious. The tadpole gave him freedom, a new lease on undeath, but Vistri opened up entirely new pathways of pleasure. He woke up feeling the best he’d ever felt after drinking her blood. Only to be topped when they added a fuck into the mix. In a bit over a tenday, Astarion had a few of the best mornings of his life. He didn’t think it was possible to feel any better. Unless…

Light filtered through the trees, adorning him in spotty shadows. Rays of sunlight hit the side of his face, making one of his eyes sparkle like a rich ruby as the other was cast into darkness. He held up his hands innocently and made a show of looking side to side, “I don’t see any search parties.”

Ah, to never be found. Oh, to stay in this little grove and fuck ‘til death.

Vistri raised her brow, tentatively interested, “Say there were. Just how disappointed would you be?”

That was his cue to walk towards her, “Be careful of the way you talk to devils, girl. You might entice one. The sun may be high in the sky, but you’re never safe alone with a monster.”

The word, monster, stuck itself in Vistri’s mind like mud on a boot. She tried to scrape it off and put it on Astarion, but she couldn’t. She looked into his scheming, slanted eyes and said, “I’m not afraid of you under the moon either.”

He uncrossed her arms and wrapped them around his waist, “You little fool.”

His mouth was so close to hers, Vistri felt dizzy, “I’m no fool.”

They were nearer to each other now than they’d been all morning. Vistri always fell into her trance on his chest and came back to the present with her face against dirt. He never held her after the sun rose, never kissed her good morning or farewell. It wasn’t like he’d set a clear boundary; he just never did any of those things, and she wasn’t going to be the first to do them. Whatever this was existed for the sole purpose of trading themselves for a bit of ecstasy, and they were simply each other’s catalyst. And that was fine. It’s the way she wanted it to be. It’s the way things always were. There was nothing special about this time, about him.

Astarion smirked. She tried to move away but he held her forearms against his sides in a firm grip.

“You’ve only survived thus far because I chose it.”

She continued fearlessly to meet his gaze. It was a misplaced confidence, like she had no concept of a reality where he’d actually ruin her. So much trust she laid on his unworthy shoulders, if it wasn’t foolishness, it had to be self-destructive.

She laughed at him. A real bitchy, mocking laugh, “Oh, you chose it?”

He grabbed her throat, tilting her head back with his thumb, “Yes. I chose not to rip you apart. Every. Time.”

“Pity.”

“No, not a pity,” he purred dangerously, “You’ve been so worth it.”

Vistri fought herself and lost. Swept up by a sudden rough current, she immediately gave over to drowning. She just let go, let it happen, and took a terrifying leap at his kiss.

Astarion moaned in pleasant surprise. He had a few more moves queued up before going there himself, but he didn’t mind the way she leapt in first. Her tongue was otherworldly, like it had been spilled out of Sune’s gossip at Loviatar’s tea party, salacious and indecently lush.

Nothing in the world compared to the way he felt. Like the sun, he colored all the greys in Vistri’s world. He felt like everything fascinating, and thought she was worth keeping alive. Someone, who felt as good as he did, deemed her worthy of life.

He was so grateful to himself for obeying his impulses. Astarion didn’t know whether she’d deign to touch him like this in the daylight. Come to think of it, she was the very first person he’d touched in 200 years under the sun. Yes, he’d pulled a blade on her then, but she was still the very first. And his first true drink. And the first fu—

“Oh, shit!” Vistri pushed him away, remembering herself and their unwritten rules made of habit, Sorry!”

Their kisses were only meant for teasing, their touches only meant for petting. She wasn’t supposed to love him at the end of her lips. Unless it was for pretending.

“Don’t be sorry,” he muttered, bringing her mouth back to his.

She felt her knees grow weak. Stupid knees. Backstabbing cunts.

“I kissed you,” she protested.

“And I kissed you back,” he went in for more.

Vistri eventually broke away again, “But we don’t kiss in the mornings.”

“And I usually don’t drink in the mornings,” he spoke into her neck, “But I think… I think we can do whatever we want. Don’t you, darling?”

He could take her blood, “I want you to drink me.”

He could take her body, “And ravish me.”

He could even take her heart, “Just make it hurt for me, lover. Would you?”

He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled it until she cried out. His voice dripped with a bright, shiny toxin, “Oh, I can make it hurt, if that’s what you like.”

She tried to nod, but his grip was too tight on her scalp, so she just begged, “Please.”

Astarion licked her neck from base to chin, then crashed into her mouth after whining, “Gods but you make a mess of me!”

Lines like that were usually bullshit, it’s why he said them so readily. But as it tumbled out of him now, it felt real. Maybe he was just that good of an actor, and he’d really begun to believe his part. That would be so much more convenient if it was. He picked her up, overcome with a desire to possess her. He didn’t own her, didn’t belong to her, but he could steal her away from gravity. She wrapped her legs around him, and he moaned deeply; tangled in her lips, in her hair.

The others were definitely going to have to wait. That or just start the day without them.

Vistri felt her back press into a tree, just like on the first night. She kissed him and felt every star she’d ever seen. That night, she thought it had to be a fluke, a trick of the bad wine. But Gods! It was still there. It was screaming. Her heart broke whenever he pulled away, and mended only when his lips were back on hers.

He chuckled, “I’ve got you right where I want you, little pet.”

“Where’s that?”

“At my mercy.”

“You did try to warn me.”

“I’m not a nice man to be alone with.”

Her smile messed up the kiss. He was so adorable. And he was right. So right. Vistri shivered as he nibbled at her ear. It felt a lot like love, but it wasn’t. Great fucks pierced the soul like great works of art. But that wasn’t care, it was an appreciation for expertise. Sure, Astarion felt indescribably right, but that didn’t make him her god. She’d just finally met her match.

He unbuttoned her corset to fondle her breasts. She twitched whenever he brushed her nipples delicately with his fingertips, and he giggled like a naughty fey each time. The line between reaction and performance was beginning to blur. She didn’t know anymore whether she twitched on cue because he touched her or because he liked it.

“I don’t want you to be nice. I want it to hurt.”

He pulled her hair again, smirking as she let out a sound that was something between a moan and a yelp. The harder he pulled, the more she felt like his. She didn’t want to want that, and yet it possessed her, like a sob forcing itself out.

“More,” she pleaded.

“More?”

“Aren’t you a bad man? And I a fool alone in the woods?”

He let go of her hair and spoke onto her lips, “Oh, you’re not alone, darling. You’re very much not alone.”

His hand took hers and brought it to the front of his trousers. Grasping and gasping, she felt him. How hard he was; thick enough to break her. The anticipation made her shiver as he kissed her again.

“Use me,” she sighed, “However you’d like.” It was the only way for her to say, I’m yours.

She gave herself so willingly, it was intoxicating. Not like it was anything he wasn’t used to, but it was new, startlingly so. He melted into the feeling of being wanted by someone who knew what he was, of being wanted by her. The world grew smaller, more manageable. All he had to be was the salve to her desires. Hers wasn’t an itch; it was a death wish.

Astarion felt something pull on him, and for a moment froze, thinking of Cazador’s compulsions. Noting his twitch of fear, Vistri took her words for the cause. Fuck. Simultaneously, they asked the same question through their eyes; Have I been found out?

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, saving them both any need to explain.

“Will you watch?”

“As I hold you tight,” he offered.

It was overwhelming. Astarion didn’t want a performance, not the kind she was used to, but something candid, completely her. He wasn’t asking her to curate his pleasure, he demanded she create her own. She never showed anything like it to anyone before. Accustomed to one type of role, she stepped into something unfamiliar. And not even a role, but the actor in their bed alone at night.

Vistri’s hand travelled between her legs. She felt Astarion spread them further apart, holding her steady with a grip on each thigh. She was close to him again, held and admired; the only thing he wanted in the moment. Her fingers traced his lustful expression onto her soul, encircling herself in his web with every stroke. Determined to trade her life for a little death, she exposed her aching need to be coated in his poisons.

She closed her eyes.

“Open them, darling. I want you to watch me, as I watch you.”

Her breath skipped with her choking heart as she met his gaze. Astarion looked as raw and exposed as she felt. His eager fangs rested on pouting lips. She leaned forward to lick them.

“No, no, dear. You’ve got to earn that,” he cooed, “With your ecstasy.”

She moaned stupidly, “Okay.”

Vistri was everything his hand had been slapped away from these past 200 years. She ran through his thoughts entirely on her own. His body forced him to comply instead of the other way around. Sure, he was using her at the end of everything. She was by no means the first to surrender, but there was something sweeter about hers, and not just because she was his to savor. This time he was actually having fun.

“Does it feel good, dear?” he grinned.

She tossed her neck and sighed. Her eyes closed for just a moment before snapping open again to obey him, “Yes.”

Astarion kissed her neck, and she moaned, leaning into it. He whispered into her ear, “You think you’re in control, but I’ve got you tangled up.”

“You do,” she panted, “You do. All yours.”

“My, but you put on a show,” his warm tongue wrapped around her lobe. His breath gently broke over her skin.

It was like watching her layers peel back in a way he hadn’t seen before. Reading her eyes, Astarion watched them become saturated with the whole of her. The void in them brightened from her dim presence, and the light grew with her gratification. Shy at first, she stepped and then stomped into herself. Until there it was in those violet depths, the core of her on a silver platter, ready for him to devour.

 Vistri let his name slip lazily from her lips.

“Do you call out my name when you’re alone?” he chastised.

“S-Sometimes. Once. Accidently.”

Astarion licked her throat, desperate to eat her up, “I’ve yet to call out yours. But I’ve thought of you.”

Her free arm tightened around the back of his neck. Her breathing got faster.

“That’s it, my darling. You’re so close. Now give it to me. Be a good pet and cum for me.”

Astarion could feel his own blood throbbing as she fulfilled his wish. His eyes were open, greedily watching, but seeing nothing. There was just a great feeling, like when their tadpoles bent reality to the other’s experience. Her eyes were shut tight as if in begging prayer, and all he could do was stare blindly into her abandon.

Her cries, only loud for being close to his ear, pierced his heart. At the end of them, he finally allowed himself to kiss her. It was his turn to let her name slip slowly out of his lips.

“I earned it?” she asked happily.

He nodded, chuckling, “Yes, I think you’ve earned it.”

Vistri closed her eyes and kissed him again. She felt him undo his laces, then helped him pull down his trousers. Alone in the woods with the naughty rake indecently arrayed; she knew she was wiser than that. Giving herself to Astarion was a decidedly stupid thing to do, and that only made her want to disappear further inside him.

He nestled himself against her soaking, warm, soft, “Oh gods…”

“Astarion!” she cried out as he tore through her with a hard stroke. Her lips trembled from the sanctity of his name. It was a spell that brought everything out of her chest, even the dust tucked between her ribs.

He cracked her open.

The more they took, the less they were sated. He wasn’t near enough. He wasn’t in her skin.

Maybe they’d never go back to camp. The others would have to carry on themselves while the two of them stayed here, tangled up in each other until they inevitably sprouted tentacles, out of the artifact’s reach. And what would that matter? Astarion never wanted to be anything other than buried inside Vistri ever again. That was his new identity now, just his pulsing cock deep between her thighs.

“Drink me.”

“In a moment, love,” he said, then tousled a little with her tongue, and spoke again, “I quite like this as it is. Feeling you.”

It was more the desperate growl in his voice than the words themselves that made her tremble. It sounded like she meant something to him, even though she didn’t. Pretending it was real made her eyes roll back. Or no… it had to be the devilish thrusting of his hips. It had to be—

“Astarion!” she shouted so suddenly; birds took off in terror from their branches. Her staccato cries and their warning calls formed a cacophonic duet, like ritual music for the purchase of her soul.

He sunk his fangs into her neck, just below her ear, as the squeezing and pulsing around him coaxed his throbbing self to bursting. He rolled deeply into her as he let himself go, overtaken by a blinding wave of ecstasy. It felt like it would never stop, stunning them both, wave after wave. Even after it stilled, Astarion tenderly moved himself in and out of her. The mess he made dripped between them. Regardless of any overstimulated shiver, he savored the feel of his spill in her.  

“You’re my little slut, aren’t you?”

She nodded emphatically, panting as her breath fought to settle her pulse. He rested his forehead against hers, and they lingered there, head pressing into head. They were both so dizzy, they had to get hold of their bearings, remember who they were.

How long could they stay there like that until the other had something to say about it?

It didn’t matter that his arms grew tired. They could fall off before he let her go. Astarion shut his eyes against welling tears. His disobedient forehead softly nuzzled hers; subtle enough to sneak passed his own notice. Catching himself, he cleared his throat.

“Time to go back?” she asked, tone heavy with a sense of sorrow.

Astarion reached for one more kiss. Saying goodbye until their next, inevitable tryst, they clung so vehemently to each other it couldn’t be paid attention to; couldn’t even be muttered about.

Arms wobbling, he finally set her down.

She immediately started to collapse under her weight. He stopped her fall.

“Easy now!”

“I’m all right.”

“You can’t even stand.”

She smiled dazedly, “Bloodless times two.”

“Gods, you’ve gone all silly. Look at you! You’re barely alive!”

“No, you’re barely alive.”

“Ha-Ha. Very funny,” he huffed, scooping her into a bridal carry.

“Weeee!”

He couldn’t stop himself laughing. It wasn’t even funny.

“You’re ridiculous—Stop squirming! I’ll drop you, and if I drop you, I’m leaving you.”

“Arsehole!” she pouted, “You’d leave me behind?”

“I’m sure Karlach or someone would come get you, but I’m tired. We can only do our best, darling.”

“You’ve had two separate helpings of my blood, you’re not tired.”

Vistri closed her eyes for a moment, just to savor this rare occasion of him holding her after. His arms felt as solid as she was wibbly. His chest felt like the stars as a pillow.

“You put me to work just now. I’m exhausted, and on top of that, now I’m carrying you all the way back to camp.”

“Whose fault is that Mr. Fangs?”

“Yours!”

“Mine?!”

“You turned back ‘round when you should have marched on.”

“You asked me to!”

“Darling, I’m a villain!” he chuckled, “You’re supposed to say no. Right my wily ways.”

“I quite like your wily ways.”

He couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him the way she did now, with lackadaisical joy in their eyes.

“Astarion?”

“What?”

“You’ve stopped.”

“What?—Oh, right. There was a stick.”

“A stick?”

“Had to maneuver around it.”

“Took a while.”

He blushed, “Sounds like somebody wants to get dropped.”

“No! Please! Don’t drop me,” she giggled.

“Drop you?”

“No! Don’t drop me.”

“But you said please so nicely.”

“No!” she laughed, “Don’t drop me!”

“Shush! I have to pay attention to our surroundings, my dear. I want to give a good description for the others to find you.”

Vistri squealed, hysteric. Astarion crushed her tight against him.

“Silence, girl!” he teased in a booming voice, “Otherwise I’ll observe no great detail, and the only landmark the others will know to look for is ‘somewhere by a tree that has leaves on it.’ And then they’ll never find you, and then I’ll never get to shag you again. Would you like that tragedy to come to pass?”

She blushed in his arms, “…No.”

“Good. Then leave me to my concentration.”

She nodded her agreement and didn’t utter a sound.

“Oh, never mind that! Please say something. I grow bored so easily.”

Vistri chattered away as Astarion brought them out of the woods. Totally wrapped up in conversation, they forgot what a sight they made when they eventually showed up midday.

“Where the hells were you?!” Karlach growled. She’d be happier to see him if Vistri was walking vibrantly by his side rather than carried like a ragdoll with two big bite marks on her neck.

“Don’t light your pants on fire,” Astarion said, “Where’s Shadowheart?”

The cleric tore out of her tent, “What have you done to her?!”

A huge smile broke over Vistri’s face, “Shadowheart! Come give Mummy a kiss.”

In a fury, she grabbed hold of Astarion’s tunic, even with Vistri limp in his arms, “I will repeat myself only once, Spawn. What have you done to my best friend?” Her voice was lethal.

Vistri’s was not, “Bloodless times two!”

Shadowheart let go of his shirtfront to bury her face in her hands and sigh deeply, “Just put her on the ground.”

“That’s a good cleric,” Astarion smirked.

She glared up at him, kneeling to treat Vistri’s condition, “Good clerics stake vampires.”

“Then let’s call you… a good, nuanced cleric!”

“Whatever.”

Vistri sat up like a galvanized corpse once Shadowheart muttered her spell.

“Wow! Thanks, Shadow. Owe you one.”

“Owe me plenty.”

Vistri chose to ignore her and smirked at Astarion, “My, my… You look more powerful than ever before. My blood suits you so well.”

He gave a little turn, “Doesn’t it?”

“Very,” she confirmed, surveying his form. She lost her train of thought until Shadowheart elbowed her side.

“Right!” Vistri said, addressing everyone, “Let’s go slay a hag or something!”

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

[inexplicablymine]

2023 Writing Roundup

Thank you to @welcometololaland @cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes @three-drink-amy and @rmd-writes @orchidscript for the tags, it was a fruitful year for my first toe dip into fanfic ~ and it will end with quite the bang as well (hence why I’m putting off my 2023 fic wrapped until at least January 1st).

July

No Sense or Sensibility (RWRB, T, 5K)

How to win the newlywed game with your best friend with whom you are not even dating (yet)

Uncut Not Uncultured (RWRB, E, 6K)

Alex never thought about if Henry was uncut down there… but now it’s all he can think about

August

The month in which I disappeared from all internet for three weeks to enjoy one of my other loves in this life with no service!

September

- Mr BodyPillow (RWRB, T, 21K)

The adventures of Ace Alex finding love, cuddles, and assurance from Henry

October

- They Were Tentmates! (RWRB, M, 4K)

What happens when you are forced to share a tent (and a sleeping bag) with your nemesis

- Because I’m a Scoundrel (RWRB, E, 8K)

Olympic athletes! TIME Gala at the White House! Mistaken couples costumes!

November

- Mr Party Hardy (RWRB, T, 7K)

A Mr. BodyPillow follow up exploring Alex’s relationships with parties pre and post Henry

- Minty Fresh (RWRB, G, 2K)

An illustrated story of their relationship to proposal one gum wrapper at a time

- No Nut November (RWRB, E, 10K)

Can the boys survive No Nut November? Not without a lot of innuendos that’s for sure.

December

- No Laughing Matter (RWRB, T, 3K)

Alex is the dental hygienist who helps with Henry’s Wisdom Teeth removal. It’s just as funny as you imagine.

To be posted before the end of the year :)

Super Six and the Sirens Call (RWRB, T, 111K, 20th)

Camp Halfblood meet the Super Six, a quest of the likes you have never seen before

Not So Silent Night (RWRB, E, TBD, 21st)

Alex is sick and tired of his piano playing neighbor, but what happens when they get stuck in an apartment together on the longest night of the year?

Messiah (RWRB, M, TBD, 25th)

Two boys, two instruments, two churches. Midnight mass and a very religious experience between the two of them

Fifteen Hours Till Forever (RWRB, M, TBD, 25th)

A firstprince canon compliant wedding weekend

Balls to the Wall (RWRB, T, TBD, 26th)

The story of how Alex spent a night in college in the drunk tank… even though he was never drunk

Glitter Bomb (RWRB, E, TBD, 27th)

Alex comes wrapped in a bow for Henry… and in some glitter

Where Is My SuperSuit (RWRB, M, TBD, 28th)

A four way love square between two super powered idiots

3/4th Cup of Love (RWRB, E, TBD, 29th)

What really happened in the kitchen when Alex taught Henry how to make those quiches

Sleeping Beauties (RWRB, M, TBD, 30th)

Alex and Henry attend the 2024 Met Gala as the muses of world class designer Pez Okonjo

Halfway There (RWRB, T, TBD, 31st)

Canon compliant demiromantic Alex realization contemplation and conversation

So much still happening!!! Will end the year with a whopping 19 fics and over 100K words shared. Spectacular.

An open tag but also tagging some lovely people to share what a year they have had!!

@adinarj @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @alasse9 @clottedcreamfudge @celaestis1 @cheesecurdsgravyandfries @celeritas2997 @cultofsappho @dumbpeachjuice @daisymae-12 @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @hillerskas @heybuddy-drabbles @iboatedhere @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @jackwolfes @kill8a @lem0nademouth @littlemisskittentoes @nontoxic-writes @pirates-against-heterosexuality @roseapothecary @rockyroadkylers @read-and-write- @smc-27 @saintlynomenclature @three-drink-amy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @thinkof-england @vonpeepsisback @wordsofhoneydew @xthelastknownsurvivorx @zwiazdziarka

[nahoney22]

hi! i really love your writing and i was wondering if you could write something with crosshair? really anything besides angst would be wonderful! thank you!!!

In the Summertime

Crosshair X GN!Reader

word count: 1.4k

The idea of camping out in Lothal in the summer sounds perfect - the best way to relax in your mind. But what happens when you have to share a tent with your crush after a mix up?

Warnings: none, mutual pining, Crosshair being grumpy, fluff. Not proofread. Mentions of tattoos.

Originally written January 2023, Rewritten January 2024.

Masterlist

"Is that really necessary?"

Your face betrayed panic as Crosshair unexpectedly thrust his head into your shared tent, catching you completely off guard. The news of a change in camping arrangements, now having to share the tent with Crosshair, left your expression bleak. How does one react when faced with the prospect of sharing a tent with their crush, especially someone as complex as him?

Crosshair's eyes scanned between you and the now makeshift wall of pillows dividing the snug tent. Words failed you, and under his intense gaze, your face flushed. "I thought you might prefer the space," you stammered.

His raised eyebrow assessed the situation as he slowly crawled in, settling on the bedroll and pillow on the right side. "If I wanted more space, I would've stayed on the ship," he drawled, nonchalantly popping a toothpick into his mouth surely that couldn't be comfortable to sleep with in, but he seemed unfazed.

"Oh," you responded, torn between removing the wall of pillows or leaving it. Worried about appearing too eager, you opted to keep it for the time being.

Nightfall descended after a day filled with walking, laughter, and exploration, leaving your legs fatigued. You reclined on your separate bedroll, eyes fixed on the dim, flickering lamp hanging from the tent's center. Playing it cool around Crosshair was your plan of action, not wanting to appear annoying.

Yet, you couldn't shake the tension. Feelings for the Marksman had lingered for quite some time, perhaps since the day you first met. Guilty as charged, you were initially drawn in by his looks, but you hadn't anticipated him being as mysterious and moody as he appeared.

Minutes pass, and you swear you haven't drawn a breath, fearing he might sigh and leave. Carefully glancing over the mountain of pillows, you notice Crosshair's closed eyes, yet he's awake, rolling a toothpick around his lips with his tongue.

As you observed him, you began to appreciate the finer details of his features. His face, though slim and somewhat gaunt, still held a rugged handsomeness.

His tattoo, upon closer inspection, appeared imperfect, either faded or not filled in properly. Squinting, you gasped as his eyes suddenly opened, locking onto yours. Your head snapped back as if on reflex, pretending you hadn't been staring for what felt like an eternity.

Blood draining your face, you try to act nonchalant, but Crosshair, suppressing a smirk, breaks the tension. "Something on my face?" he asks, looking at the tent's roof.

Your hands fumble with your jacket's drawstring, despite the summer night's chill in the thin tent. "No, I was..." You debate whether admitting you were looking at his tattoo would be cringey or claiming it was nothing at all would be more awkward. Hoping for the best, you confess, "looking at your tattoo."

Sucking on the inside of his cheek, he glances back your way. "Don't like it?" His eyes narrow a little.

"No, I do!" Your protest comes a bit too quickly, but it doesn't deter the Marksman. "It just doesn't..." You cut yourself off, sensing a wave of nerves bubbling inside Crosshair. Normally indifferent to others' opinions, he has started to care about what you think.

"Doesn't what?" There's a small snap in his tone, unintentional, but you look horrified at the thought of him thinking you insulted him.

"Forget I said anything; it looks fine." You rush, rolling onto your side, hoping he drops the subject.

Typically, Crosshair would demand his brothers to express themselves confidently, but feeling a twinge of guilt for his sharp response, he let the matter drop.

A stretch of silence enveloped the tent for about ten minutes. Just as you felt on the verge of nodding off, the tent unzipped, accompanied by shuffling sounds. You sat up to find Crosshair gone, but his shadow revealed he hadn't retreated to the ship or sought refuge with the others. Instead, he sat outside, doing and saying nothing.

Sighing softly, you feared you might have irreparably annoyed him, jeopardizing any chance of confessing your feelings. Restless, you tossed and turned for half an hour, but the unsettling feeling persisted. Glancing up, you noticed Crosshair still outside, his silhouette revealing his arms wrapped around his body. If you were cold inside the tent, he must be freezing outdoors.

Taking a chance, you grabbed his warm blanket, ignoring the implications, and exited the tent. His shoulders tensed at your approach, but as you handed him the blanket, he looked down at you.

"It's cold," you stated, keeping your voice hushed to avoid waking the others.

He shuddered slightly, accepting your offering reluctantly, draping it over his lap. Uncertain if your presence was welcome, you turned to go back inside. However, just as you were about to step in, he mumbled a small "stay." Uncertain if you heard him correctly, you turned back, looking at him curiously.

"Stay," he repeated, his gravelly voice soft but audible.

Scuttling back, you settled beside him with crossed legs, accidentally brushing your knee against his, though he didn't seem to mind. Or at least, you hoped he didn't. As usual, the two of you lapsed into comfortable silence, the stars twinkling above, and despite the distant sound of Wrecker's snoring, a sense of peace settled over the camp.

"Do you like the summertime?" you ventured, breaking the silence.

"It's messy," he responded quickly, prompting a confused expression from you.

"Sorry?" you asked, puzzled, but he subtly pointed to his tattoo.

Surprised that he was willing to discuss it again after your earlier conversation, you admitted sheepishly, "I... I didn't mean to upset you. It just looks a bit uneven in some areas," rubbing the back of your neck and pulling your knees to your chest.

For a moment, he was silent, but then he chuckled—a rare occurrence that warmed your chest. "I agree, don't worry," he reassured you. Despite your differences, it was always a relief to see Crosshair relaxed and content, especially when it was in your presence.

“I should've gone to a professional," he mused aloud, gazing at the sky before turning to you. "Any guesses who did it?"

An amused smile tugged at your lips. "Would it happen to be that snoring log in the tent over there?" you teased, nodding towards Wrecker's tent. Not surprisingly, Crosshair nodded.

"Yep," he confirmed, a hint of disdain in his tone, yet amusement still glinted in his eyes. "We were younger, but still, I wouldn't let him near me again."

"Why did you let him, then?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"He wanted to."

Despite their frequent bickering, it was unexpectedly touching that Crosshair trusted Wrecker enough to let him ink him, simply because Wrecker wanted to. "That's actually quite nice of you," you remarked, a hint of admiration in your voice.

Crosshair smirked at your teasing tone, rolling his eyes and popping yet another toothpick between his teeth. "You saying I ain't nice usually, darling?" The pet name echoed in your mind, leaving you feeling like you were about to short-circuit. He watched your reaction with amusement, clearly enjoying how flustered you appeared before him. Hopefully, it was the good kind of flustered.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Mister," you retorted playfully, secretly thrilled by the nickname. "I do think you're nice, yeah." A soft breeze passed by, causing you to shudder involuntarily and drawing his attention even more.

"Looks like it isn't just me who's cold," he remarked, his chuckle sending another wave of shivers down your spine. However, it was the gesture of him draping the blanket you brought over you that warmed your heart more than your body. "This alright?"

Confidently, he kept half the blanket for himself, wedging in closer to you. His hair stood on end at the feeling of you practically cuddling next to each other for warmth.

"This is lovely. Thank you," you replied softly, sensing the tension between you both. If you interpreted the situation correctly, you leaned across and planted a quick kiss on his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder, letting your eyes flutter shut.

He froze, a surge of nervous energy coursing through him, unsure if he deserved such tenderness. But he wasn't about to let this connection slip away.

"Yeah," he muttered quietly to himself a few minutes later, certain that you might have even fallen asleep on him, "I like summertime."

Masterlist

More Crosshair Works

Tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease e @megafrost4 @adriiibell @theroguesully @equalityforcats @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @inagalaxywickedfahaway @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @alexandrisonfire @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @by-the-primes @torchbearerkyle @tech-aficionado o @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @a-c-lee @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @mylifeinthetardisforever @brynhildrmimi i @greaser-wolf @lucyysthings @agenteliix @the-good-shittt @s1st3r @buddee @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater

[firstprince-ao3feed]

can we take more polaroids for you to hide?

by greasybakedpotato The tent is turning out to be Alex’s worst enemy. He’s been at it for two hours now but the bundle of fabric and poles in front of him do not seem to want to cooperate at all. But everyone had to build their own tents without any help from the camp counsellors, this was their first task. He can feel the irritating sting of tears of frustration. His nose tickles and his throat feels rough. Just then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. When he turns around, he is greeted by a boy with ruffley blond hair and pink cheeks. Shyly, the boy extends a hand towards Alex. “I’m Henry,” the boy, Henry, says. Alex takes his hand. “I’m Alex,” he says. or childhood friends to lovers firstprince Words: 2997, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s) Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Boys In Love, inspired by 'love me anyway' by chappell roan, Feelings Realization, Love Confessions, Best Friends, alex claremont-diaz is a dumbass, (affectionately), Pining, like only a little, Mentioned Arthur Fox, he is alive, we rejoice, Not Beta Read via https://ift.tt/ws3la0K

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

E Rated Fics Masterlist (26)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21/ Part 22 / Part 23 / Part 24 / Part 25 /

Created: December 28th, 2023

Last Checked:-----

26.2-authoresskika (ao3) Summary: Modern AU; After her best friend suffers two grievous losses in one fell swoop, Katniss devotes years to helping him rediscover just how good life can be again. When the final step Peeta wants to take is actually 26.2 miles, Katniss finds herself struggling to keep up — both with him and her own conflicted feelings. Oneshot (for now) originally written for Fandom4LLS.

Camping Anyone?-MegaAuLover (ao3) Summary: Katniss gets caught in a rainstorm during Camping she accidentally runs into the wrong Tent of the one man she's never been able to get out of her head, Peeta Mellark

Dream Come True-HGfanonezillion (ao3) Summary: Peeta thought meeting Olympian Katniss Everdeen was the highlight of his life. But in all his dreams and fantasies, he never would have thought he'd actually end up alone with Katniss in her hotel room.

Everybody's Got a Dark Side-shesasurvivor (ao3) Summary: When Katniss reminds Peeta about the time President Snow visited the study, it accidentally triggers an episode. Then Peeta decides it's time to reclaim Katniss… and the desk. Hijacked!Peeta smut, post-Mockingjay. Written as a present for everlarkbirthdaygifts on Tumblr.

The Bartender-mrspeetamellark (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen is an event planner in charge of a high-profile fundraising gala at the Panem Country Club. She's working towards a promotion and needs the event to be flawless. Will she be able to impress her boss enough to achieve her goal? Who can she trust to help her ensure the event goes off without a hitch?

The Cook's Contract-HGfanonezillion (ao3) Summary: Peeta is a Duke in need of a bride. But Katniss, a servant in his kitchen, is the woman who has his eye -- and his heart.

The Potting Shed-mrspeetamellark (ao3) Summary: Post Mockingjay Everlark, canon compliant. Written for everlarkalwaysandforever on tumblr, who requested a story where Haymitch walks in on Everlark doing the deed and lectures them afterwards 😉. I hope you’ll enjoy it!

Wait For Me-nightleyss (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen has already experienced a lot of strange things, but this had to be the oddest one so far. And everything just because of a marble statue that she didn't seem to be able to get out of her mind. Everlark AU/originally written for S2SL 2015.

Wrapped In Red-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: Katniss is trying to be a good friend to her recently divorced pal. She really is. But this holiday season, fate, her own feelings, and Peeta’s daughter have other plans. An advent style Everlark story.

You Are What You Are-Abagail_Snow (ao3) Summary: During Catching Fire, Katniss and Peeta get snowed in.

[cobbssecondbelt]

Dincember 2023 - Day 12: Warmth

While Tatooine’s nights tended to get cold, Tuskens sure knew how to be completely unbothered by it. Their tents were large enough to squeeze a small family in, each furnished with thick blankets that sure were warmer than they were soft and heated by a small stove in their center. Paired with the reassuring press of familiar bodies against one another, one could be completely unafraid of catching a chill.

In Din’s case however, the body pressing against him was not familiar.

He startled hard at the first swat at his arm, half-way out of his slumber and already reaching for his blaster, his actions only fueled by instinct and indignation at the face of betrayal. Such an impressive display of muscle memory just to be met with a very much asleep, and very much sprawled out marshal.

Oh. Well.

He managed to settle back for a few minutes before a head lulled against his shoulder. He nudged Vanth with his elbow, just hard enough to shoo him away. The man grunted and rolled on his side, and Din rolled unto his, facing the wall of the tent.

He woke a handful of hours later, sweating like a Life Day pig and sandwiched between the kid in the crook of his neck and the strange desert creature they’d picked up in the desert that afternoon, who was currently slumped against the line of his back, his body heat like a literal furnace.

‘’Marshal.’’ Din grumbled.

No answer.

‘’Vanth.’’ He tried louder.

‘’Hm.’’

‘’You’re hot.’’

‘’Thank you...'' Vanth mumbled.

Din sighed. ‘’I mean, move.’’

‘’Hm.’’

When the marshal didn’t move a muscle, Din reached back to swat blindly at the nuisance, hand connecting with something that could be his ribs as well as his rump. Whatever it was, it was enough to finally get him to peel himself of Din’s back. Good.

He seemed to behave himself after, and Din counted the minutes before he’d have to push him off again. He fell asleep before the moment came.

Morning came quickly as expected, and the camp shuffled to life at the first hints of dawn. Din woke to the child’s soft snores against his helmet and-

Of course.

For someone who was so jumpy a few hours prior, the marshal sure seemed plenty comfortable now, the long line of him plastered against the Mandalorian from head to ankle. His beard tickled at the nape of Din’s neck and his belt buckle poked against his lower back uncomfortably.

Yet...

Yet his hand laid against Din's side, on the unprotected patch below his ribcage, and his breath was soft in his ear, and his boot rested against the heel of his.

He was warm.

Very warm.

A little too much so, granted, yet where Din knew he should have been offended, he couldn’t find any will to move away. The child was still sound asleep under his arm, and the suns were still low, and they had a long day ahead, and the fingers against his waist sent the best kind of shivers up his spine. Something nudged at his stomach from deep within, like a loth-cat crying for a lost home, an impression of familiarity in something long forgotten, almost resembling…

What the hell are you thinking?

Din rolled his shoulders with an exaggerated yawn, successfully waking the kid and shrugging Vanth off his back. Both squinted awake while Din was already getting on his feet and straightening his armor.

‘’Well mornin’ to you, too.’’ Vanth croaked, his drawl made thicker with sleep. He looked dishevelled in a fashion Din could never pull off. Bastard.

The Mandalorian swooped the child up in his arms.

‘’I’ll be outside when you’re ready.’’ He said, and promptly the tent before his eyes could linger too long.

The air was still fresh outside, and Din shivered.

[mx-piggy]

posting about @diamyousef2's campaign again. since my post on 3rd october, the campaign has only raised €458, which is better than nothing but the campaign is still urgent. since my original post, the goal has been raised from €25,000 to €50,000.

Samer and Dima’s son Yousef was born two months premature on 17th January 2022. he was in the NICU for 70 days. then, on 5th May 2023, Yousef was diagnosed with esophageal varices grade VI, a condition that stems from a clot in his portal vein. this has led to dangerous swelling in his veins, causing sudden and sever bleeding and leaving him vomiting blood.

because of Israel’s siege on Gaza, medical care is scarce and infection and disease are a major worry. Yousef was scheduled to have life-saving surgery on 27th October 2023, but, due to the war, this was unable to take place. ‘our situation grows desperate by the day’, Samer writes in the gfm campaign. 'i cannot bear the thought of losing my son to a preventable tragedy, especially when the means to save him are within reach. in the name of humanity and fatherhood, i implore you to help me evacuate Yousef from gaza to undergo the critical surgery he so urgently needs.’

not only is it critical that Yousef gets the surgery he needs, Yousef deserves a better life than living in a tent in a refugee camp. it is not Samer’s fault that he has been robbed of his home, but he is nonetheless heartbroken that his son has been robbed of the comfort and joy that a child his age should have. i can only imagine how Samer and Dima feel with both the stress of being caught in a war and the worry of losing their son. if you look on the campaign page, you will see that Yousef is such an adorable kid. i wish Samer and his family all the best.

if anyone can donate even just the minimum of €5 it would be very much appreciated. minimum donations can be the reason why these campaigns succeed! if not, please share the fundraiser and reblog @diamyousef2’s pinned post.

€16,635/€50,000

[oskuleinonenphotography]

Rippling Water - Glimmering Lake And Shoreline #shorts #lake #shore

Best First Aid Kit For Survival

[seat-safety-switch]

Camping is a much-beloved activity, even with those who live in a house. In case you’re unfamiliar, camping mostly consists of driving to a place in the wilderness and then sleeping there. Ideally, you also set fire to something, but the core value is that of being closer to nature. Experiencing its bounty. Remembering why you have indoor plumbing.

In an attempt to make camping more livable, humanity has produced many specialized vehicles. RVs. Tent trailers. Bolers. Little tiny tents that go behind your bicycle. A van, down by the river. None of them are as appealing as just a bare-ass car, with no modifications, and a back seat that folds down enough that you can sleep halfway in the trunk without completely demolishing your lumbar region.

If you read the newspapers lately, you might have heard about my recent legal troubles. That being so, I don’t think it’s in your right to judge me, because you still read a newspaper in 2023. Where do you even buy those things? Anyway, I had to lie low for a little bit, and the important thing to know about Canadian telecommunications is that your cell phone never works as soon as you are within five minutes of the city limits. Sure, you can pay them seventeen bucks a minute for “roaming,” but nobody is that big of a sucker, even the government. I reasoned that there was no way my parole officer was rich enough to keep my ankle bracelet on the entire time, and so I set out for the grounds-of-camping in order to test the theory.

The first night yielded an excellent sleep: calm, cool air, no light pollution, and the sounds of animals all around lulled me into a deep dream-like state in which the solution to all my problems emerged and then was immediately forgotten upon waking up. The second night was even better, because the incessant lost-signal beeping of my ankle bracelet finally ceased as its batteries expired. Now, without the scarlet letter of its plaintive tone following me around, I could visit my fellow camping enthusiasts and socialize.

Friends: I made it about fifteen minutes. None of these folks had cool old cars, and they seemed to look at my oil-stained visage with a look between terror and pity. The best I could do was one retired couple who were towing their 1997 Saturn SL1 behind their RV, who at least pretended to listen to me when I was telling them about the importance of welding up their diff pin. Ultimately, they had “somewhere to go” and escaped so quickly that the Saturn broke off of their trailer hitch and rolled into the nearby fishing pond, which I decided made the vehicle count as maritime salvage.

Camping was exactly as relaxing as I thought it would be, and I ended up with a new composite-bodied toy to tow behind my Volare. Which is great, because I’m going to need something to drive to the bail hearings after this thing throws a rod on the highway home.

[slusheeduck]

Fictober 2023 Day 9 - Prompt: "I may not get another chance to say this." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

This was…presumptuous, at best. Nosy, at worst. And honestly, entirely not within his right, considering the current time frame. But damn it all, if this tadpole in his head didn’t take him out first, the orb in his chest would, so there really was no time like the present for Gale to do this, because there may not be much more of that left.

So, a few minutes after hearing Astarion’s drawled out, “Hello, beautiful,” and about thirty seconds after seeing Falerin walk away to go chat with Karlach, he took a deep breath, then made his way to Astarion’s tent.

“Could we…chat, Astarion?” he asked slowly, hands clasped behind his back. Astarion glanced back at him over his shoulder, eyebrows raising.

“I would ask if you were going to show me a bit of magic, but it sounds more like I’m about to get a lecture,” he said, corner of his lip quirking up in amusement. “But I suppose we could.”

Gale glanced about. “Let’s…walk. Less chance of being overheard.”

“Oh, now I’m very interested.”

Gale rolled his eyes. “Don’t get so excited. It’s bad enough with the tadpoles, but everyone here’s an eavesdropper, too.”

“Speaking from experience?” The knowing smile Astarion sent his way made Gale wince, and suddenly he was second-guessing this whole affair. It was none of his business. But it was. But it wasn’t. But…

“Look, I may not get another chance to say this,” he said quickly, pushing through the doubts. “There’s…yes, we saved the Grove and that was worth celebrating, but it’s far from the end of the road for us. And if things do get more difficult, then I want to say…”

Astarion’s eyes widened, and he paused by the shoreline. “Oh my. Is this a confession, Gale?” he asked, a cruel little smile already spreading across his face as he fanned himself. “Oh, this is all so sudden!”

“Will you stop it?” Gale snapped. “It’s about Falerin.”

That caused a shift in Astarion’s face. His hand delicately rested against his mouth, eyes narrowing. “What about Falerin?”

Gale hesitated, eyes darting between Astarion and the dying dusk over the water. “You look at him like you’re going to eat him alive.”

“Well, I mean…”

“Not in terms of your unusual diet.” Gale let out a long sigh, hand scrubbing at his face. “This is presumptuous of me, I know. We’ve both known him the same amount of time, give or take fifteen minutes, and as far as stressors go, this one should be much lower on the list. But he’s my friend, Astarion. Probably the best I’ve had since Mystra…” He sighed, dragging his hand down his face. “The point is, I’m worried you’re toying with him like…like my cat does a pigeon she’s about to tear to pieces.”

Astarion, who had stayed remarkably quiet, suddenly scoffed. “Darling, who do you think I am?”

Gale grimaced. “Please. I know he cares about you—it’s practically bursting out of every pore in his face. And I’m…I’m not trying to intimidate or scare you off, I swear. I just…some assurance, please, that you’re not going to hurt him.”

Astarion’s face had shifted into something unreadable—not scathing, not mocking, not sneaking. His gaze flitted over Gale’s face, searching for a lie.

“I’m not planning to hurt him,” he said, voice soft. “I can’t promise I won’t; I know the kind of person I am. But…I won’t toy with him.”

Gale should have been embarrassed with the obvious sigh of relief he let out, but he really wasn’t. He dropped down on a nearby rock, shaking his head. “I really should have gotten out more before this. I’ve forgotten how difficult talks like this are.” He let out another breath, then looked up at Astarion. “I haven’t been as kind to you as I should have, but I’d like to be in the future. I’d like to think that Fal would be upset if either of us left camp due to a spat.” He waved his hand. “So, any time you’d like to talk, feel free. Or…don’t. Ball is entirely in your court.”

Astarion’s mouth twitched up. “Oh, how very generous of you.” He paused for a moment, looking out at the water, then—very slowly, like he was approaching some dangerous creature—he sat down on the fallen log beside Gale. “So you…have a cat?”

Gale’s brow furrowed as he looked over at him. “Well, technically she’s a tressym, but yes.” He gave a wry smile. “Stereotypical, I know—lonely wizard in his tower with just his cat for company. Feel free to tease me about it; Tara certainly does.”

“No, no, I…” Astarion glanced over at him. “I’ve always been fond of cats. See a lot of myself in them, I suppose. Obviously having one’s always been out of the question, but…” He shrugged. “Maybe you could tell me about yours.”

Gale looked Astarion over, unable to stop the way his mouth pulled up. He knew a peace offering when he saw one. “I would be more than happy to.”

Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

[millietalksra]

Ranger Gathering 2023 Day 1: Camp

Promps by @theraven-gil-lyn

How well the RA characters would’ve stayed on theme for the 2019 Met Gala ranked worst to best

Warnings: Language

Theme:

Camp- Intentionally over the top, ironically quirky ( I think a good camp focus more on the outlandish than extravagance)

Halt

Didn’t know what camp was so just showed up in a basic ass black suit

0/10 Served no Cunt

Pauline

Had someone explain Camp to her, wasn’t a fan of the concept because she’s a classic bitch. Broke theme on purpose in an elegant black gown, but is above Halt because it’s still Camp that she broke theme on purpose

3/10 Served some Cunt

Will

Really just another man in a suit but there’s mesh and ruffles…. Still not Camp tho

3/10 Served minimum Cunt, really could’ve done better

Alyss

Technically it’s Camp, there’s led lights, it’s big, but there’s not really a statement, it’s extravagant but not outlandish

5/10 Served technical Cunt

Jenny

Okay so imagine the dress below but made of string worms. Jenny killed it on the quirky and cute but still kinda basic

6/10 Served quirky Cunt

Gilan

Showed up in satanic version of catholic religious garb (a la Papa Emeritus)

9/10 Served that religious trauma, hot priest Cunt

Cassandra

Wanted to go to the Met wearing her duvet… and by god her stylists made it happen

10/10 Served the comfiest coziest Cunt

Horace

Didn’t know what Camp meant, thought it meant literal camping. showed up wearing a canvas tent as with the poles in as a top coat with the flaps open to reveal a sleeping bag for a dress. Wore a bucket hat with fishing hooks and completed the look with a tackle box “clutch”

10000/10 His whole pussy was out on this one

[ficbrish]

The Perfect Bite

Rating: Explicit 18+ only!

[AO3 Link]

[Kinktober 2023 prompt thanks to @absurdthirst! October 4th - Overstimulation]

[[TW/CW: Cptsd, blood, gore, alcohol, light dom/sub]]

Summary: Knowing pleasure sweetens the blood, Astarion primes Vistri for the perfect drink.

Takes place in Act I during the Underdark missions.

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

Vistri was lifting the curtain to Astarion’s tent when she caught Shadowheart's judgmental glare from across camp.

Hells, Shadow’s sigh silently said, You’re gonna make me cast restoration in the morning again, aren’t you? She was getting so sick of them. 

Shrugging back at her with a, Whoops, sorry! Vistri ducked shamelessly inside.

There he was. Waiting. Astarion had a smile on his face she knew not to trust. But there was a look deep in his eyes that said otherwise, a glimmer of something safe.

“There you are, my eager little treat.” He let those last three words roll slowly off his tongue for emphasis. Each one punctuated as its own little song so they sounded like, “Eager. Little. Treat.”

Bearing witness to the softness in his smirk, her heart rushed with all the blood she had to offer him.

“You’ve certainly set the stage for a promising evening,” Vistri put on a playful smile, denying his power. It wouldn't do to show him his effect. 

An open bottle of wine waited to be passed between them. Astarion took a swig and presented it to her as she sat down across from him, “Picked it off a corpse.”

“How romantic,” Vistri reached out and took a sip, accepting his offer. It was rough on her throat, but at least it wasn’t vinegar.

She felt him watching her intently. His eyes seemed to bore down on her every movement.

Not only did the wine fight you on its way down, it had a particularly unique aftertaste. Astarion minutely parsed her expression for displeasure as she drank. Vistri's placidity unnerved him. Her face reminded him of a lake, calm on the surface with who knows what going on underneath. It was this trickiness of hers that made it almost impossible for him to tell if he'd truly won her over.

Raising one of his hands to eye-level, he confidently commanded her attention. Then, as if referring to something expansive, gestured across her vision with a slow, hypnotic wave, “The best I could do. For the best I’ve ever done.”

That rakish smirk hanging off his sculpted lips belied the sincerity of his statement. His words were a functional trap.

But alas, they were honest. Astarion wasn't sure whether or not he wanted her to believe them.

Vistri held his onto his unwavering gaze and licked a little drop from the lip of the bottle. If there was one emotion she could display, it was want. The hope that he'd be able to taste her tongue upon his next sip was her little secret to bury inside of performative desire.

She passed him the bottle and relaxed back on her elbows. Then poked at his compliment with a hollow cockiness, “Oh? The best you’ve ever done? Pray tell!”

“Just all the others were…” Astarion looked a little sad and drank. He swallowed and plastered a familiar mask over his face.

It made Vistri slow down and adjust hers.

She knew what the end of that sentence would be if it were coming from her own lips. All the others were merely another audience to please; people who purchased bits of her soul in the dark. Or in the middle of a crowded party…

“Not as fun?” she offered.

To which he smirked and said, “Exactly. And you, my sweet, are very fun.”

“Wait,” she sat forward, “Was that a genuine compliment?”

Astarion giggled, showing his fangs in his grin. Her question echoed the one bouncing around inside his own head. He answered with the other one that would always follow, “Is that really so hard to fathom?”

Vistri smiled cheekily as if to say, Yes.

While wrenching the bottle out of his grasp, she purposefully caressed his fingers with hers. Such a subtle touch had an effect that made her eyes lower, almost shut for a moment. How the brush of his skin made hers shiver and dance... The shock of it always hit Vistri's vacant shell of a system like steam on ice. Coming alive as she did at his touch gave Astarion the power over life and death. She almost resented him for it. Only his touch could ignite that flame.

There was no one else.

She drank deeply to stop herself from saying the wrong thing.

“I’m hurt,” he teased, “I thought we trusted one another.”

A sudden cackle erupted out of Vistri that made her almost spit wine. Hurriedly, she swallowed hard and choked on it. Her attack of laughter was relentless, fighting to free itself through fits of coughing and gasps of air.

“Oh now, that’s not very fair!”

“No!” Vistri continued laughing, “That’s not—We do!”

Whatever it was reduced her to a doubled-over pile of cackles. Astarion frowned, mistaking her bone-deep relief for a mocking emotion.

However, watching her was contagious. He started laughing too, “And now you’ve gone and spilled the wine!”

She tried to sit back up and apologized through her fit, “I can’t help it!”

“Did you, by any chance, happen to smoke a bit of Gale’s pipe before joining me?”

Vistri wiped her eyes and caught her breath, “Don’t worry, I would have invited you if I had. Actually, I think he’s a little miffed at me. I don’t know why though—” She interrupted herself laughing at a joke she suddenly came up with all on her own, “He doesn’t want to give me his pipe!”

She was absolutely ridiculous. Astarion couldn’t help but laugh at the way she wriggled and shook, filling his tent with pitchy sunlight, squealing for breath. With a mischievous grin, he lunged at her and scooped her into his lap. Her laughter died down as she settled onto him, face to face.

So close, their noses almost touched. The sour wine on their breath wove itself around the sweetness between them.

Vistri grew dizzy with every feature of his too-close face. She froze, waiting for any type of cue. His lips were right in front of hers, but they only kissed when they fucked. She was just here for another drink.

Unbeknownst to each other, their stomachs both flipped as Astarion rolled his hips against hers, finding a more explicit angle. Vistri felt him grow harder with every passing moment that he spent nestled in the heat between her legs. Something between a purr and a growl rumbled low in his chest. 

“Tsk Tsk, you’ve got wine all over that shirt,” he observed in a low tone, simmering with playful fervor. “Might as well take it off!”

Speechless, Vistri nodded and lifted her arms up, allowing him to undress her. Astarion's fingers danced across her skin in bits and pieces of touch as he lifted her shirt over her head. She took note of every graze and bump, feeling every brush of his hands in as much detail as she could.

“That’s much better,” he smirked.

Her lavender tits looked bigger in contrast to the smallness of her ribcage, and her indigo nipples perked up from their sudden exposure to the night. Astarion's longing to feel them on his tongue tightened the grip along her waist.

Big hands held her steady, flat against her bare back. A mouse in the paw of a lion. Vistri was here explicitly to be prey to his predator, and yet she never felt safer, never more eager to let herself go. She tilted her head to the side, offering her neck.

To which he played the offended party, “Are you just here for a quick one, or did you come to my tent for an experience?”

Overcome by the ravenous nature of his curse, and alongside it, the overwhelming presence of his past, teasing was the only means left Astarion had to hold onto himself with. Not without leaning on Vistri; letting her in. If she didn't shoot back with something clever, she would be the only ledge left for him to grasp.

Vistri didn't answer.

She couldn’t kiss the lips she kept staring at, so she traced them with a finger instead.

Astarion closed his eyes and moaned. Giving in, he kissed her fingertip.

And then her palm.

And her wrist.

As he let go of her hand, it flew gently to his face like a feather carried on a thick, warm breeze. Vistri's thumb caressed his cheekbone, saying everything they couldn't speak.

The truth would not be an appropriate answer, but Vistri didn't want to lie either.

“I want to make you feel good," she said, her fingers snaking their way up into his curls even though she told them to stop, "To give you power.”

She cursed herself for promising the very thing she was trying so very hard to deny him. 

Astarion almost looked genuinely happy. As seriously as his brow was all screwed up, it seemed more at ease than ever before. Vistri felt herself surrender completely to that spark in his eyes. To the deception that wasn't a deception.

“You have quite a few ways of doing that. So let me ask you this, what did you enter my tent for?”

He needed to hear her say it out loud.

“A feast.”

Vistri finally let herself fall onto his lips. She leaned in, gently pressing against his soft skin as another part of her answer.

“I want to sate every appetite you have. Ease every ache. To be the means to your happiness,” she admitted, punctuating each confession with another desperate kiss. She devoured him like she’d missed him for centuries, and he followed her lead.

Whenever he kissed her again for the first time, Astarion remembered what it was like to miss someone. Vistri wanted him, and he wanted her too. For as many lovers as he'd had, that kind of thing was rare. But her words didn't carry enough weight, especially not when they were conveyed through her charming song.

“And what do you get out of it?” he asked breathlessly as he tore away.

You. “A whole lot of fun,” she grinned and winked.

The smile left his mouth, but not his eyes. From Vistri he could get many things, but never a straightforward answer. And if he couldn't get one of the things he wanted, he might as well take another.

“Face the other way,” he commanded.

Putty in his hands, Vistri turned her back to him, tucking into his chest. He fit so neatly, like a shell. She closed her eyes for a moment to savor the feeling only Astarion ever inspired. It was a brand new experience brought to her for the first time through their meeting, when he’d tackled her to the ground, blade at her throat. His whole body had wrapped around hers; she'd boiled over with excited rage. She felt full of something then, for the first time in gods only know how long. Alive.

And here it was again. Here he was again, with his body wrapped around hers.

Astarion let his hands wander, fingering her waist like a lock and watching her squirm. Vistri could feel the oppressive force of his sanguine famine salivating against her back as palpably as his arousal. Both emanated from him in a titanic wave that Vistri longed to drown under. She was eager to be lost at sea.

He was already lost in her willingness to be consumed. Monster at her back, Vistri's heart skipped as one of his hands caressed her throat. As he kissed the base of her neck, a stray moan escaped her prideful restraints. His other hand dove lower, below her waist, “The way you give yourself to me so completely is intoxicating.”

Haunting her spine, Astarion planted long, needful kisses on the back of her neck. Like flowers with tall stems, they flourished in the garden of her senses. His lips sowed sensation after sensation.

Up by her ear, he whispered, “You always taste so good, but you taste the best with euphoria in your blood.”

His fingers began to undo the lacing on her trousers, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you want. Don’t lie. I’ll taste it.”

Thoughtless and mewling, Vistri confessed her sins, “I want you all over. I want your hands on me. Touch me, I need you to touch me.”

His cool, coveted hands almost stung against the blaze he found between her legs.

“Gods you’re already soaking!” slipped from his mouth in genuine surprise.

A pleasant surprise. He was used to working a lot harder for that. So was she.

Vistri’s breath hitched as he began to gently stroke her. He kissed the back of her head.

“That’s it,” he told her as she began to rock her hips against his finger, “That’s a good pet.”

Vistri cried out. Her reward was a bit of pressure added to her neck and a welcome finger slid teasingly inside. 

He found a begging reception. His name spilled from her lips, “Astarion.”

She’d never cried out his name so sweetly, and an ache tore him open. He rested his forehead against her back and a strained whine escaped him. He untangled from her neck to bring both hands between her thighs. Vistri writhed and squirmed in his lap. She felt so good rubbing against his trousers, but he was desperate for her skin.

“Be a good pet and cum for me.”

She surprised him again, “Work for it.”

“That’s a challenge I can certainly handle.”

“You’ll nev—Oooh!" Vistri couldn't finish speaking because her whole chest convulsed with staccato cries that his cloth tent had no hopes of containing, "Nev… Never—Ah!” 

“You can let go,” he whispered in her ear, “I’ve got you.”

Her pleasure practically roared out of her. He could feel her start to pulse and tighten over his hands. Astarion didn’t ease his prancing fingers, even as she tapered off. He kept going until every bit of her little death ebbed away. Until she wriggled with the loud shout of his touch against her spent parts.

And she didn’t want him to stop. Vistri rocked her hips against his stroke, fighting through the jagged sensation of too much until she found ache and longing there too. “Again,” she begged.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “I can stop.”

“Don’t you dare… Unless you want to!”

“I don’t want to stop.”

Vistri reached up to run her fingers through his hair, pulling it just enough to sting without any real pain. In a gesture of surrender, she opened her thighs a little wider.

She called out his name, repeating it over and over as the tight feeling built and built and built until it burst apart again. This time, his hands stopped with her ecstasy. He slid his fingers out of her and lingeringly trailed them up her slit in one slow stroke, until his fingertip met her overspent clitoris. Her whole body twitched as he teased its head. Passing over it slightly one way, and then the other.

“I could stop now,” Astarion began, “Or…” He paused for effect and continued, “Or I can have you die in my arms until you sob from it.”

Vistri turned her face towards his, “Kiss me.”

Astarion jumped at the chance. Every bone in his body was aching for her, especially the one throbbing between his legs. His lips found purchase, and his tongue reached for hers. He could taste the blood under her skin.

The expression in his eyes had to be wild. Lust and bloodlust. Vistri met it with affection instead of fear. Every soiled part of his soul was exposed, and she licked up every bit of ugly like it was something sweet to be savored. He had to repay her the only way he knew how. Through teasing and pleasing until he turned her into shreds of herself. Scattered parts he’d hold all together for her to come back into, whole.

So his hands stayed below her belt, and he worked at his promise. Until they lost track of how many times she came. Until every nerve ending was cursing his name. Until his fingers started to prune.

Vistri was a little embarrassed by the way she lost herself once totally spent. Tears in her eyes, she couldn’t imagine ever feeling any sort of craving again, but then she turned back around.

Heat sat on Astarion’s face like the most delicious thing to ever exist.

Her mouth gratefully dove into his, and he moaned. She teased the tip of her tongue against his before biting his lip. When he smiled, she gently licked along one of his fangs and it was his turn to shiver.

“Do you like that, dearest?” Vistri asked, knowing already that he really, really did. It always drove him crazy. She just wanted to hear him say it out loud.

“Yes,” he answered quickly, his calculated charm having flown away.

His fangs and his ears were both so sensitive. And Vistri licked his other fang before kissing all over his ear and whispering into it, begging him to bite her.

“Get undressed and lie on your back,” he whined through the sensations.

Vistri’s heart pounded in anticipation of his bite. She felt greedy, wanting more. Wanting his teeth in her skin, his tongue on her neck as he swallowed every drop. Astarion echoed every feeling, growing louder with every article shed, which wasn't much to begin with.

They admired each other’s naked form, then Vistri got down on the floor.

“Take as much as you want from me,” she told him as he settled over her.

Astarion kissed her deeply, pressing his body into hers. “Why are you so generous with me?” he asked. The expression in his eyes looked like old wounds.

Vistri caressed his cheek. Moments like these, when the mask slipped, he really came out from underneath everything. Buried under layers of dirt, she’d catch these glimpses of him.

And he was the most beautiful fucking thing she’d ever seen.

“Because you inspire me to be generous,” she said.

He sunk his cock into her before his teeth. One entry followed by another. It was so deeply intoxicating, his hunger threatened to take control.

Astarion tore himself away after a few sips, remarking with a bloody mouth, “You are…”

Very dizzy. But she wanted to give herself over to him entirely, and when he could stop on his own accord, she was allowed to.

She put her fingers to his red lips, playing with her blood and painting him with it, “You should take more.”

He paused, ceasing his thrusts but not pulling out. There was danger in more, and Vistri was too precious to lose.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “Are you feeling all right?”

“I feel amazing,” she assured him, “And I know you could feel better. So take it.”

Astarion was not convinced. Her lies were as pretty as her face.

Vistri whimpered a little as she squeezed the wound on her neck so more blood poured out. His tongue betrayed him and flew to it, and she moaned his name again.

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” she said, “Just take until I say so.”

Not knowing whether to believe her or not, Astarion took a leap of faith and gave in. Completely. His mind felt like it expanded as he drank, and the feeling of her underneath him became more and more colorful and alive.

Instead of relinquishing control, she'd taken it. Even though Vistri never wanted him to stop, she promised him to be the one who wouldn’t let him go too far. So, she grabbed his face and called his name to bring him back.

Astarion's lovely mouth was so red it was almost black when he stopped drinking and asked if she was still okay.

“I’m great,” she said a little weaker than before, “Are you okay?”

She'd promised to protect him and was really asking if she'd done enough.

His eyes were wild, “I feel amazing.”

“Kiss me, Astarion.”

“But I…” he protested, his mouth dirty with her blood.

“I want all of it,” she said, “I want to taste myself in your mouth.”

“You’re… sure?”

Her own blood would be poison to her stomach, and its stain on him was the ugliest part of his curse.

“Please,” she begged.

A wide smile spread over his face that he molded into a smirk. “Oh, you lovely little freak,” he teased before meeting her mouth again.

He tasted like Astarion and an overwhelming amount of copper. Vistri flinched from it and leaned hungrily into it at the same time. She always wanted to remember the taste of her blood in his mouth. A snapshot she could always carry as a secret treasure in her heart no matter what came next.

Astarion reached his climax tangling his guilty tongue with Vistri’s, and he took her along with him. They moaned and whined into each other’s mouths as pleasure wracked over them. Relief came to Astarion in every sense, and Vistri’s body ached with ecstasy it couldn’t take any more of.

They steadied each other in their arms after riding it out together. She felt lightheaded and he was shaking with power.

Vistri thanked him, “That was perfect.”

Unable to handle being anyone's idea of perfect, he laughed and remarked, “Your face is a bloody mess!”

She laughed too, “As is yours!”

He kissed her one last time, before it was too late and not allowed anymore. Vistri held onto it for as long as it lasted.

“Wash me off? I can’t look in the mirror.”

Vistri giggled, “Of course I will.”

“Thank you,” Astarion said, squeezing her hand.

They didn't let go of each other until the passage of time screamed for recognition. He stood first, then helped her up.

Hands meeting again for one more brief moment.

Vistri wasn’t too steady on her feet as they got dressed. As soon as Astarion noticed, he made her sit back down.

“You didn’t let me go too far, did you?” he asked with true concern, kneeling at her side.

Vistri waved off his worry, “Oh, don’t fret about that! Shadow’s gotten really good at restoration magic.”

[Click here for my other Kinktober one-shots]

[sambuckylibrary]

The Complete List of Camp SamBucky Summer Bingo 2023 Pieces

Thank you all for participating in the SamBucky Summer Bingo 2023! There were a lot of fun and wonderful pieces and we hope you all enjoyed the event. Here is the full list of everything made for the Camp Card. we hope you all had a very fun summer!

CAMP

Hiking by @glittercake | Rated: M | WC: 700 words | Established SamBucky, 1 Million Nicknames, Hiking |

Avian Telepathy by @glittercake | Rated: T | WC: 900 words | “I can take a bear”/“You can’t take a bear”, Shenanigans, Avian Telepathy |

Stuck in a Tent by @funsized-loser | Rated: Not Rated | WC: 852 words | Stuck in a Tent, Family Fluff, Getting Together |

Out on a ‘Supposed’ Excursion by @enchanted-lightning-aes | Rated: T | WC: 1.1K words | Hiking, Banter, Idiots in Love | AO3 |

Speaking in Avian by @enchanted-lightning-aes | Rated: T | WC: 1.4K words | Avian Telepathy, Banter, Developing Dynamic | AO3 |

Exchanging Anecdotes By Nearby Bonfires by @enchanted-lightning-aes | Rated: T | WC: 757 words | Campfire Stories, Banter, Memories |

Carry on, Push through by PrinceofBadassery | Rated: T | WC: 2.4K words | Mission Fic, Established Relationship, They Both Take a Tumble | AO3 |

Piling It All Differently by @enchanted-lightning-aes | Rated: T | WC: 775 words | S'mores, Domestic Fluff, Messing Around with Recipes |

Meanwhile, In Delacroix by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: G | WC: 1.3K words | Stargazing, During Moon Knight, Kissing |

Stuck in a Tent by @glittercake | Rated: T | WC: 501 words | Stuck in a Tent, Super Soldiers Can Be Horny, Sam Can’t Catch a Break |

Sightseeing of Local Birds (and Some Extreme Appreciation) by @enchanted-lightning-aes | Rated: T | WC: 1.7K words | Birdwatching, Banter, Mutual Pining |

A Couple of Co-Counselors by @enchanted-lightning-aes | Rated: Not Rated | WC: 982 words | Modern-ish AU, Summer Camp AU, Exchanging Numbers |

Just Have To Go Through It by @abarbaricyalp | Rated: G | WC: 2.1K words | Camping, Mission Fic, Going on a Bear Hunt |

Tent Set-Ups Going Wrong by @enchanted-lightning-aes | Rated: Not Rated | WC: 873 words | Lighthearted, Cracky, Stuck in a Tent |

Seeking Shelter from Rainfall by @enchanted-lightning-aes | Rated: T | WC: 1.1K words | Free Space, Fluff, Humor | AO3 |

Woodsy Stake-Out by @enchanted-lightning-aes | Rated: Not Rated | WC: 945 words | Mission Fic, A Couple of Guys, Stakeout |

Here are the lists for:

Beach

Camp

Delacroix

Pride

We had the best time running this event and we hope you all had a great time too!

- The Mods