#might just set up a tent and cook campfire food and enjoy some quiet time

[mynationalisparked]

I'm highly considering camping in October this year for a weekend just for the ole mental health.

[aliasimagines]

One Hell of a Night // Luke Patterson

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN Y'ALL, it officially passed midnight here.Are you guys going to celebrate Halloween at home? And if so are you going to dress up? Tell me all about it lovelies, I wanna hear it ❤️. prompt 18 nad 15 from this list🎃 this fic is chaotic, hope you enjoy😊

word count: 2692

warnings: a few (three i think?) curse words, and a..uhm a line of dirty talking (I'm sorry I'm not like this all the time I promise 😅) and scary stories

The dry, colorful autumn leaves creaked under hiking boots as you walked into the woods. A smile appeared on your face as you heard some noises. Only a few seconds later you spotted the source. The Sunset Curve. The boys worked on getting the campfire lit while joking and laughing loudly. You stopped by a tree and leaned against it. Alex just hit Reggie on the back for just sitting around and not helping with putting logs and dry leaves on the fireplace. Thanks to Alex, Reggie swallowed the huge marshmello he had in his mouth and started coughing. 

Bobby was trying to light his lighter again and again but it just didn't work. That's when Luke threw a pack of matches at him causing the rhythm guitarist to stumble back and fall into a pile of leaves. You started laughing quietly and walked up to them.

"That wasn't nice of you, babe." you said from behind Luke. He jumped, not noticing you creeping up on him.

"BAH! I almost got a heart attack, y/n!" he shouts pouting. You giggled and placed a small kiss on his cheek. 

"That's what you get for not waiting for me." you smirk. Luke looks down embarrassed and goes to scrape the back of his head. 

"Yeah…Sorry about that. I was too eager to set up the camp." he gestured at the two tents. Both were full of blankets and pillows. It looked super comfortable. You also spotted his acoustic guitar, and a whole bunch of food in you guys' tent. 

"You did a great job."you smiled before walking over to the other boys." Hi guys! What's up?"

"Y/N! Finally! Tell Alex to stop hitting me!" yelled Reggie. You shook your head laughing. 

“Stop being so childish than Reginald!”

“Boys, come on!! It is halloween, have some fun!” and with that you fished out a huge bag of candy from your backpack and threw it into Reggie’s hands. He looked up at you like you were some kind of miracle maker. 

“Is this..is this all candy?” the dark haired boy asked, still in awe. You laughed, nodding your head slightly. 

“Yeah. I don’t really want to think about how much money I spent on sweets.” 

Soon after everyone got to work (this time for real) and the fire was lit in no time. Just as it started to get darker. All five of you sat around the campfire. You sat next to Luke, opposed to  Reggie and Alex. Bobby sat beside them in a camping chair. Thanks to the warm californian weather you didn’t need jackets just yet, despite being the end of october.

"It's getting dark. I think we could get started on the ghost stories?" asked Bobby looking up at the sky then around the little clearing in the woods where your tents were set up. Reggie munched on some candy corns but immediately stopped upon hearing those words. 

"Ghost stories? Don't mind if I do." he sat his candies aside and prepared to tell a story that would send shivers down your spines. You leaned over to Luke, placing your head on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile before turning his attention back to the bassist. 

"One day, a little boy, while walking around the woods, found a big toe on the ground. He ran home with it and-" 

"-his mom cooked it in the soup which revolted in the toe's owner haunting them." you suddenly cut Reggie off. He gasps, offended. 

"What? I knew the story. Was I supposed to just sit around?" you ask, earning a soft laugh from Luke. Reggie huffed and gestured at you. 

"Alright then, take it away y/n. See if you can do better."

"Not to be that person but she definitely can. You only said like two sentences." Alex jumped in, not wanting to miss an opportunity to roast his friend. 

"Because she cut me off!!" 

The woods, once again erupted with the boys' laughter as you stared into the fire, waiting for them to quiet down so you can start your story. 

"I was only a small kid when this happened, around five,maybe six, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. My mother was out of town for the weekend because of her work, so naturally, it was my father who read me a bedtime story in the evening. Everything was great, he was reading from my favorite book but right before he could finish the chapter we heard a quiet tapping noise from downstairs. My father looked puzzled and put his finger against his lips, signaling me to stay quiet so he could listen. The tapping didn't stop, it got louder before turning into banging and a final loud crash which sounded like the front door flying open. I looked at my father, scared to death, not knowing what to do." you kept your voice low, your face straight and never removed your eyes from the fire."He grabbed me and quickly ran with me to the small bathroom that was connected to my room. He instructed me to lock my door and only open it when he says so. I don't know what happened after that, but heard my father going down and some muffled noises before hearing him climb back up the stairs. I remember his voice. It was just so nice and comforting. He said it was a false alarm and I could come out. I reached for the doorknob but then he leaned down and looked inside through the keyhole. My little hands stopped midair. I kept staring at his eyes. He repeated that it was safe to come out and that everything was fine. But I did not believe him. Because that wasn't my father. He sounded exactly like him, but his eyes… They were a different color. Not my father's welcoming eye color. So I just stood there. For minutes. Maybe hours. He wouldn't stop talking, reassuring me but I still didn't unlock the door."

Reggie leaned forward with a worried and scared expression.  

"What happened next?" 

You lifted your gaze, slowly to look at the spooked boy. 

"He started tapping. It sounded just like it did on the front door. And it wasn't long before he started banging his hand against the wood." 

"Oh my god.." Reggie whispers. 

"He is hitting harder and harder until finally the door breaks and flies open. And the creature, no longer looking or sounding like my father, rather like a tall bloodied figure with sharp teeth, jumps at me, opening his huge mouth and SWALLOWS ME WHOLE." you shout the last part causing Reggie to scream and the others to jump just a little. 

"Fuuckk, i think I peed myself!" exclaims Reggie. You only laugh, seeing all the boys being a bit paler. 

"So who's next?" 

"I'll go." Luke said beside you and you shifted away from him, knowing that he will need the space to gesture along his story. You watched as he started to speak. His expression changes with every sentence as he introduces his characters. His frown as he talks about a creepy night in the woods. Your eyes wander down to his lips, too busy just staring at them to actually listen to the words that make them move. You distantly hear various curse words from the guys as your boyfriend goes deeper into detail with his horrifying story. With eyes still glued to Luke, you smile slightly. 

"../n...y/n...Y/N!" you hear making you jump and almost falling backwards on the log you have been sitting on. You see all the guys staring at you. 

"How are you not scared? Did you not hear Luke's story?" Reggie asks, earning a knowing laugh from Alex. 

"No, she did not. She was too busy staring at his lips." as your friend's words hit your ears you feel your face heating up. 

"Dude..,alright I might have zoomed out. A bit but I am here now. Where were you, babe?" 

Luke looks at you, amused. 

"I finished like 3 minutes ago. You 'zoomed out' for legit 20 minutes." 

Looking up at the sky, you realized they were right because it got pitch black since you last looked up. Your lips curved into an 'o' shape before mumbling a sorry.. 

“We should put more wood on the fire. It's starting to weaken.” says Reggie. Bobby points into the dark woods.

“Suit yourself, man.” 

“What? I am not going alone. Someone come with me.” he whines. Alex visibly changes his posture and sits into a more comfortable position.Luke puts his muscular arm around your shoulder grinning.

“You’re on your own, man.”

“No! Please??”

You bite back a laugh and carefully remove Luke’s arm from you. 

“Alright, I’ll go with you.” 

“Thank you!You are amazing!” 

You grab the basket ,that’s been laying on the ground, for the twigs. You also reach into your bag for your flashlight. 

“Ok, I’m ready to go.” you step towards Reggie but Luke grabs your hand and places a small kiss on it. 

“Be careful, love.”

“Always.”

The two of you start walking towards the woods.

“Try not to pee yourselfs guys!” Alex calls after you in a sing-song voice.

“Ha ha, very funny Alex.”

To be honest you were a little spooked but didn’t show it.Not like Reggie who was literally shaking beside you and jumped up at every little noise he heard as you got further into the woods. You picked up a few sticks and bigger twigs, slowly filling the basket with them. Or rather, you tried but when Reggie stoped right in front of you you accidentally dropped it spilling the stuff everywhere.

“Dude! I am trying to help you here!”

“Shhhhh! Didn’t you hear that?” he whispers, voice panicked. 

“Come on, Reg. This isn’t going to work on me.”

He turns to look at you.

“No, y/n! I am serious! I heard a whisper! I’m sure of it!”

You roll your eyes, not believing your friend.

“You gotta be more convincing next time. I dont scare that easily..AH” just as you assured Reginald how it takes more for you to get spooked, someone, or something grabbed you from behind and started to pull you while shouting ‘WAA’. The flashlight landed on the ground too as you let out a bloodcurdling scream. You kicked your attacker(s?) wherever you could. 

“Ahh! WHoo, stop, it’s just us.” you suddenly hear your boyfriend's voice and feel the arms around you letting go. You turned around your fear vanishing and turning into anger.

Reggie behind you falls on the ground,clutching his chest while he tries not to cry.

“ARE YOU GUYS INSANE?!” you shout at Luke and Booby. Alex is nowhere to be seen, he probably stayed next the fire to keep an eye on your stuff. Luke's eyes immediately  widen upon hearing you raise your voice.

“I..I am sorry we thought-”

“What?! Lucas Patterson I am, so, so mad at you right now” you say shaking. You hear Bobby giggle quietly. You snap your head in his direction. “And don't even get me started on you Bobby...Bobby..uhm” you stop to think about his surname, only to realise you don’t know it. For a moment you let go of your anger. “What is your surname?”

He only scoffs and smiles. Alex must have heard the shouting and come to investigate with a flashlight in one hand and a drumstick (as a weapon?) in his other.He soon puts them down tho as he sees that you are all in one piece. Luke looks at Bobby with a puzzled expression.

“That is actually creepy, cause I don’t know it either.”

“What?! How? He has been in a band for, what? A year and a half? And you never actually asked his last name?” you ask, more interested in the mystery of Bobby’s name than shouting at them now. Luke shrugs.

“Do you even have a last name?” you hear Reggie asking from the ground. You all turn to him with questioning looks.

“Everyone has a last name Reginald.” says Alex.

“Not celtic gods, no.” he responds.

“What?” Luke exclaims clearny not understanding the bassist.

“Bobby is not a god.” says the drummer annoyed. “ He is a normal teenager like us.”

“Is he tho?”

Meanwhile Bobby leans back against a tree and stares at Reggie.

“You are creeping me out...Please stop creeping me out oh majestic god of...what are you the god of?”

Booby just smiles mysteriously. 

“Oh for f…’s sake.Y/N back me up here, there are no gods and even if there were, Bobby is not one of them.”

“Thanks Alex but I am not offending a celtic god.”

“What is wrong with you guys?!”

Luke doesn’t know who to look at in this chaos. Soon he decides to pick up the twigs and collect more while you, Reggie and Alex argue whether Bobby is a god or not. Bobby bends down too, to help the lead singer.

“You do know my name is actually Wilson, right?” 

“Yeah. Of course I do, I think Reggie does too, he just forgot.” the two boys laugh. 

You all walk back to the camp and Booby, upon seeing Reggie still looking at him suspiciously walks over to him.

“I am not an ancient god, you know.”

“That is exactly what I would say too.”

Not hearing Reggie’s nonsense reminds you of what Luke did so when you feel him wrapping his arms around you, you push him away.

“I sorry, bae. I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have. Please look at me?” he stands before you so there is no way you can avoid him.

“Don’t do this again.” you said with a firm tone. You can't help but smile, seeing Luke’s shit eating grin. He opens his arms once again but waits for you to hug him first. You do, and for minutes you just stand there in his embrace. The silence was broken by the familiar sound of the acoustic guitar which was followed by Reggie’s voice as he started to play some country song. 

“Dude, no, put down my guitar.”Luke ran off to get his instrument or to, at least convince him to play ‘normal’ music. You laugh and walk over to Alex and Bobby.

“Hey, y/n, I am sorry about scaring you.”

You wave your hand. 

“It’s fine. However don’t be surprised when I get back at you.” you say before sitting down next to Reggie and giving him a hug because let’s be honest he was pretty traumatised in the woods too.

“Woo,hey! Why does he get a hug?” Luke asks, upset he couldn’t change Reggies mind about playing country songs. And from the fact that his girlfriend was hugging him.

“Maybe because you decided that it was a funny idea to scare the living shit out of him and I.”

“Stop guilt tripping me.” he pulls you up and away from the fire, closer to the tents. ”I said I am sorry. And you are right, I shouldn’t  have scared you. Besides…” he leaned closer to your ear “I know more fun ways to make you scream.”

You gasp upon hearing his words and right when you are about to react Alex walks by casually. 

“No, no. With the tents it’s like we are sleeping next to each other. If you guys try anything I will murder you myself.”

Both of you look after him, blushing before breaking into laughter.

Luke’s watch showed 3:58 when you all agreed to call it a night.You put out the fire with the help of Bobby while Luke went to pack away the trash you all left out.

Reggie yawned and looked up at Alex.

“I am still pretty scared...Can I cuddle you Alex?”

He looks at him like he heard it wrong.

“Absolutely not.”

“What about you Bobby?”

“No way, Reg.”

Despite them saying this, all three of them woke up hugging each other in the morning.

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 64)

Loose Ends

Yep, I’m still alive! Just not spending any time at all writing 😅😬 Here’s another chapter anyway, I hope you enjoy! Also, happy holidays and here’s hoping for a better 2021!!

Tagging @emily-strange and @actuallyhansolo ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

We moved west, staying north, and found a place to camp far from where any Pinkertons were still patrolling. We travelled for hours, all through the remaining hours of the night, through the morning and into the afternoon. We ended up at Cotorra Springs when the sun began to set; it was cooler there and when we found a spot away from any trails, pretty secluded, we decided it was as good a place as any. The rushing sound of the geysers erupting every now and then kept making me jump at first but soon became a somewhat comforting sound. A reminder that no matter what happened, life always carried on, the world wasn't going to stop spinning and fall to pieces just yet.

We set up a small campsite with a few tents and a fire, over which we cooked meat from a deer that Charles had hunted while the rest of us set up. None of us knew how long we would be there but it was clear that we all needed some food and some rest before we even attempted to figure out our next move. We all sat around the fire with our food and little Jack was asleep with Cain by his side; the dog had tagged along with us on our journey, jumping atop the Marston's wagon whenever he got too tired.

"What exactly are we all gonna do?" John was the first one to bring up the elephant in the room, and everyone turned to eye him almost irritatedly.

Nobody spoke up or offered any sort of response, and after a moment, Lenny threw his hat in the ring.

"It's a good question. We can't live like this forever, can we?"

"Course not," Arthur said. He didn't quite snap the words but they weren't untroubled. "We've got a chest full of money on that wagon, we'll… we'll figure out what everyone wants to do and split it accordingly."

"I don't want a penny of that money," Sadie hissed, then spat into the fire, "reeks of Dutch and Micah and dirty betrayal."

"Hey, that implies it was all their money. Dutch barely put a penny in if it weren't from a job we all did together," John scoffed.

"I don't want it either but let's be rational. We're gonna need it," Charles said, looking at Sadie. "We didn't just go through all that only to starve to death at the end of it, all because of pride."

"He's got a point," I agreed. "I don't think any of us should have a problem taking that bastard's money," I added.

"Ain't his money," John shook his head, picking at something stuck in his teeth, "it's our half, fair 'n' square."

"Yeah," I nodded after a moment, but frowned a little. Silence lingered. 

"It's obvious none of us feel too good about takin' it," Abigail broke it, stating the unspoken.

"I feel fine," John snorted.

"Me too, for the most part," I hesitantly agreed. Arthur sighed beside me and everyone looked at him.

"For the love of God, not a single one of you refuse that money. This is hard enough, at this point, that money's the only thing that made this possible. Without money, we're trapped, and if we're trapped, we'll end up in the damn ground," he told us through tensely gritted teeth. More silence followed, broken by Susan.

"You're right, Mr. Morgan. This ain't no time for pride and making things needlessly hard on ourselves. We've just gotta take this opportunity to get the heck out of this mess, so I don't wanna hear no bellyaching from any of you," she said sternly, and John nodded in agreement. Lenny took a breath, and nodded too. 

"And what're you gonna do Miss Grimshaw?" I asked her softly. She met my eyes across the fire, her brows arching a little in surprise that I'd asked. 

"Me? I'm- I'm–" she began hesitantly, and glanced at the others before letting out a breath. 

"You ain't thought about it none?" Abigail asked, and Susan turned her gaze to her.

"Quite the opposite," she scoffed a laugh, then patted the side of her hair bun in an attempt at brushing back fly-aways. "Maybe I'm just a little bit ashamed to admit that I've been planning for this for a while."

My eyes widened, and so did most of the others'. 

"Oh come on. Please. A woman would have to be foolish to not consider a few back up plans in this way of life. Especially with how things have been the past few months. Even Miss O'Shea had her plans," she added, and my eyes dropped down at her mention. I always felt strange about the whole Molly situation, considering I was potentially the last person to really talk to her.

"You ain't wrong. So what's your plan?" Abigail asked. 

"I know a lot of people Miss Roberts, I have options," she chuckled. "But I think I envision a future in moonshine. An old friend of mine's been wanting to go into business together for a while now, I think I'll pay her a visit."

"Which old friend is this, anyone we know?" Arthur questioned.

"No. If you knew her, you'd know exactly who I'm talking about. She ain't a lady you easily forget," Susan chuckled, shaking her head. 

"Ain't nothing to do with those Braithwaites, then?" John snorted and Susan rolled her eyes.

"The Maggie I know would sooner hang than have anything to do with those idiots," she laughed. I smiled as I watched her laugh, feeling my admiration for her swell. Susan was a woman I would never be like, and I knew I'd miss her sorely despite all of the times I'd giggled when one of the girls would roll their eyes or pull a face at her behind her back. I knew everyone had a lot of love for her, and I did too. 

"What about you then, Lenny?" Arthur asked. "What's your plan?"

"Ohh, I'll be a rolling stone for a while I think, see where life takes me. I’d like to… learn,” he said almost hesitantly, a mild frown puckering the skin between his brows. His eyes lifted and settled on Charles for a brief moment, “maybe, if the stars align, I might just have a chance at making something of myself,” he laughed, but there was an ugly reality behind his words that bittered them slightly, though he kept smiling, and it was no accident that it was Charles that his eyes landed on. The smile that Charles returned to him was one of quiet understanding.

“My father, he wanted me to be a lawyer,” Lenny turned his grin to me, his eyes brightening a little. “From bank robber to lawyer, can you imagine that?”

I chuckled, despite the fact that with Lenny’s intelligence, charisma and articulateness, I didn't doubt his capability.

“Dutch always said I had too much potential to stay robbing banks for the rest of my life,” he breathed, looking down into the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes, making them shine bright even though his energy dulled a little at his mention. Yet another silence fell across the campfire and I kept my eyes on the young man before me, so full of potential yet held back by so many factors far out of his control, and my heart hurt.

“I think that's the only thing I know of that came out of his mouth and made a lick of sense,” I noted. He looked at me, held my gaze for a few moments, then released a quiet breath.

“Maybe I’ll head to Washington D.C. Try to get a job, or go to school. I don't know about being a lawyer,” he breathed a laugh and shook his head, “but doing something… more than what I have been doing. That’d be good. I think my dad would be proud of that.”

“Your dad would be proud of you already, Lenny. I mean that. You’re a good kid, got a good heart,” Arthur told him, and everyone made a show of agreement, nodding, humming confirmations and patting him on the shoulder. 

“Thanks, all’a you, I… it's been quite a ride, ain’t it?” Lenny sighed. 

“That it has…” Charles trailed off. 

“And I think I’m gonna hit the hay,” Abigail announced, dropping her plate on the ground before rising to her feet. I watched as she very carefully bundled Jack up into her arms. “Goodnight, y’all.”

“Goodnight,” the rest of us whispered softly, as if suddenly we would all wake up the boy, even though he’d been sleeping just fine before. 

“I need some sleep too,” John agreed, and it set off a chain reaction, and Lenny and Susan retired to their sleeping spots. Charles drained the contents of his bottle of the beer that Sadie had managed to snag before we all left. 

“Arthur, tomorrow night we should…” he said quietly as he rose to his feet, trailing off. Arthur met his eyes and stared silently for a while, then nodded. 

“We will.”

“Alright. Thank you,” Charles nodded, then headed towards his tent.

“I weren’t planning on leaving him, not for a second,” Arthur called after him and Charles waved a hand dismissively, smiling over his shoulder at him.

“I know. Goodnight, folks,” he added, then crawled inside his tent to bed down for the night. I glanced at Arthur for some clarification and his eyes dropped to the ground.

“Eagle Flies got captured by the army. I said I’d break him out, I have to, princess–”

“Don't think I’m gonna try to stop you,” I whispered. He turned his head towards me, and I kissed his cheek. 

“Thank you. He got caught when I was helping Dutch screw the lot of ‘em over, pretending to be helpful. I gotta speak to him and his father, tell them about what happened with the gang today. Eagle Flies can’t keep on trusting him, getting sucked in by his fancy words just like I did at his age. It won’t do anyone any good in the end,” he explained, and I nodded in agreement.

"You need some help breaking him out?" Sadie questioned. Arthur met her eyes and shook his head. 

"Charles has a plan, shouldn't need more than the two of us."

"In that case, maybe there's something you can help me with instead," she said, leaning forwards, elbows on knees. My stomach squeezed a bit at the way her eyes lit with devilish determination. "O'Driscolls. There's a bunch of 'em hiding out over at Hanging Dog Ranch."

"Sadie–" Arthur began, his hand raising.

"With Colm gone and with just a few stragglers left, we can end those bastards for good," she cut him off, her hands clenching into fists. I took a breath and looked down at my feet, pressing my lips together.

"Sadie, I… I don't think we– we just got out of a bad situation, we're doing all we can just to get by–" he began again, and I could feel his tense but careful sympathy in his tone.

"We can finish 'em. We can. This is all I got left now, bringing some kinda justice to those sick bastards after what they did to me, what they did to my husband," she leaned forwards even more, her body tensing up, I could see her from the corner of my eye, getting full of desperation. I sensed Arthur glance at me.

My heart ached. We were finally away from Dutch and I had hoped that it would be the end of Arthur risking his life over grudges. I could handle him going with Charles to break a good man out of prison, I wasn't happy about the risk he was putting himself at but I knew he had to do it. But going to kill O'Driscolls? I was so conflicted. Sadie deserved closure over what happened to her husband, but I didn't want to lose Arthur over it. I couldn't stand it if we came this far only to–

"Please, Arthur. I need someone to ride with me. I can't go in there on my own but if I got no one–” Sadie's voice cracked and my eyes flashed up to her. "You're the only one I trust to do this with me and do it right. And I gotta do it, Arthur, I can't just let them get away with it. Please."

I stared at Sadie, feeling her pain emanating from her in waves, it made the hairs on my arms stand up and bile rise in my throat. My eyes tingled as tears threatened to form there, and Arthur looked at me again. Then Sadie did. Suddenly, I found, it was my choice, without even saying a word. 

I nervously toyed with the locket around my neck, and saw Arthur's eyes momentarily flitter down to it. 

"Arthur you–" I began after some time, when it was made clear that they were waiting on my blessing. Mine. Like I had any control over anything. "Sadie's done so much for us," I said monotonously, though it wasn't without feeling, "it's clear she needs this." 

"Thank you!" Sadie exhaled, and I rose to my feet. 

"I need to sleep," I whispered, then stepped over the log I'd been sitting on and headed for the tent I shared with Arthur. "Goodnight."

I climbed inside and laid down on my bedroll, wrapping myself up in the blanket and curling up on my side. I could hear quiet voices outside the tent, a muffled mix of soft tones from both Sadie and Arthur, none of which I could make out as words. It was only a few minutes before cool air filled the tent as the flap was pulled back, and Arthur climbed in beside me. He shuffled around, getting under his own blanket and scooting up behind me, his hand gingerly resting on my hip.

"Princess," he whispered. I made a small hum of acknowledgement. "Are you okay?"

I nodded my head, and Arthur exhaled, then kissed the shell of my ear. 

"Talk to me, please."

"I'm sorry Arthur. I'm trying not to put a leash on you, and trying to give Sadie the opportunity to get justice for her husband. All the while I'm worrying any one of these jobs people have you doing'll be the one that kills you. Right when we're finally doing what we've been waiting for," I whispered. Arthur's hand gently drifted up and down my side, his lips still at my ear giving me little pecks. 

"I could try to reassure you, but it won't help, will it?" He said softly, sadly. I shook my head. "What do you want me to do instead?" 

"Nothing. I don't want you to do anything, Arthur. I can't ask you not to do all these things. That's why I came in here to sleep, cause I know anything I say ain't gonna do any good."

"Are you angry with me?"

"No, I'm not," I breathed, then rolled over to face him. "I'm not mad, I'm worried. And I'll be worried until we're away from here for good. That's it. All I need from you is just to hold me right now, so I can enjoy the time I have with you," I told him, and kissed his chin. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my head.

"Just a couple more jobs, princess, then it's over. I promise," he told me. 

"Please keep your word," I whispered, closing my eyes and nestling my face into his collar. 

"I will. I'm under nobody's thumb no more, I do what I want. These things, they're just… they're things I gotta do for my friends. I know you understand that, right?"

"I do. It's why I'm not stopping you."

"I'm real lucky I have you. And that you're like this. You're a good woman," he told me and I chuckled, shaking my head a little. 

"You don't have to flatter me, Arthur."

"I ain't flattering. I'm thanking you. Thank you," he said, pressed his lips momentarily to the crown of my head. "I love you."

"I love you too," I replied. 

After a few moments of silence, Arthur spoke again. "Can I ask you something? Or shall I let you sleep?"

"Now I'm curious about the question. Go on," I answered.

"Where'd you get that locket from? The one you been wearing since I got back. Looks familiar." 

The question surprised me. It wasn't anything like what I was expecting, and I laughed. Then stopped when I considered my answer. My heart was suddenly pounding because I knew I had to address how I had felt while he was away in Guarma.

"It was Susan's," I told him. "She gave it to me."

"That'll be why it's familiar," he mused. 

"It has a photograph of you inside it," I added. He was quiet for a moment.

"It does?" He questioned, tone going up a note.

I hummed my confirmation. "I… I was real bad for a while when you was gone. Susan wanted to cheer me up. I haven't taken it off since."

"Did it make you feel better?"

"A little. It was nice to have something of you, at least. But it didn't hurt any less, that you were gone."

"It would've been a comfort to have something of you with me while I was away. I thought about you constantly, I wanted to see your face just once… I didn't even have my journal, with my drawings of you. They don't live up to the real thing but they're something, at least," he whispered, squeezing me tight. 

"Let me see them," I whispered, kissing his collar bone. He made a small sound, a sort of hum, sort of sigh. 

"My drawings?"

I nodded as I moved back a little to look at him. "I've only seen a couple of your drawings of me. How many have you done?" 

"More than you've seen," he chuckled sheepishly, then rolled onto his back, staring up at the top of the tent. I shifted onto my elbow and gazed down at him. 

"May I see?" I questioned insistently, his grin widened. He was embarrassed, it was clear. "It's just me," I whispered, stroking my hand over his chest.

"Just you? That's the problem."

"Problem?"

"I'm worried I'll embarrass you." 

"Why would I be embarrassed?" I laughed. Arthur sighed and met my eyes. 

"Get my journal," he acquiesced. I giggled and sat up, reaching for his satchel that sat by his feet. I retrieved the journal and handed it to him, but he nodded towards me, urging me to keep it. "Take a look, princess." 

[backtothestart02]

If Only She Knew - 5/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Enjoy!

Commissioned by Patricia H.

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 5 -

He could only see small slivers of Iris from where he stood on the outside of the tent, and it wasn’t like she was naked or bending down so the cutest butt he’d ever seen was in his line of vision. Quite the contrary. She was unzipping her sleeping bag and sliding in, waiting for him to join her.

To join her.

He shook his head. What nonsense. The tent was huge, and they had separate sleeping bags. He should not be overthinking this the way he was. Joe hadn’t even brought the blow-up mattress this year. Barry could slide his sleeping bag super far away from Iris if he wanted to.

If he wanted to.

He stepped inside the tent just as Iris was pulling her pillow to lay beneath her head.

“Zip up the tent,” she ordered him before he’d barely gotten his foot in. “But don’t forget to leave your shoes outside!”

He was a touch hurt by her demanding behavior, but his amusement won out in the end.

He took his shoes outside and plopped them onto the edges of the tarp so she could hear. Iris opened one eye and glared at him when he turned back around with a gleaming grin on his face.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you quite done?”

He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest.

“What did I do now? Tell me.”

She opened the other eye and sat up.

“You were letting mosquitoes in!”

He looked around the faintly lit up tent for any sign of the blood-sucking insect she spoke of.

“I don’t see any mosquitoes.”

“Just because you don’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t here.”

He laughed, unzipped his sleeping bag and slid inside, zipping himself up and bringing his pillow to him before turning to face her.

“I promise you can share your mosquito bites with me if you have any in the morning.”

She rolled her eyes but laid back down and turned to face him.

“It doesn’t work like that, Bear.”

He shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t try.” He smiled cheerfully.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” She demanded.

“Because I’m with you,” he said sheepishly, and she melted before his eyes. “And our biggest problem is mosquitoes.” He laughed.

She laughed too. “I guess it is pretty silly.”

He nodded. “Mhmm.”

“Hey, sorry I got mad at you today,” she said quietly. “That was childish of me.”

“It’s okay, Iris. It wasn’t exactly real mature of me to put Joe between us to avoid talking with you more about the hike.”

“I knew it! I knew that’s what you were doing!” Her voice rose.

“Shhh!” He chuckled. “Let’s not wake your dad up, please.”

She pursed her lips tightly. “Well, I did.”

He sighed dreamily.

“What?” she asked.

You’re just really pretty nearly slipped out of his mouth, but he stopped himself.

“I’m just really glad to be on this trip with you,” he said, “And Joe,” he quickly added, which took her smile down a fraction, but he didn’t really notice.

“Me too,” she said. “But mostly with you.” He gulped. “Dad makes things kinda boring every now and then. I wish he had another adult to talk to.”

Too bad my dad’s in prison and your dad thinks he’s guilty, he thought to himself, but he didn’t dare say that out loud either. Iris might side with her best friend on the matter, but that didn’t mean she wanted anyone but herself talking badly about her dad.

“Well, he said he’d make sandcastles with us tomorrow. That’s not boring.”

Iris rolled her eyes and scooted her sleeping bag closer to his.

“Sandcastles are for babies.”

Barry scoffed, but it came out slightly strained due to her proximity. Iris didn’t notice.

“Excuse me, sandcastle queen, what did you say?”

She hid a smile.

“You can make sandcastles look like the real thing. Mine look like I used toy buckets and shovels to make them.”

“That’s because you do use toy buckets and shovels to make them.” She giggled.

“So do you, though!”

“You gotta use more wet sand, Barry. That’s the trick.”

“And not have toddlers stomping all over mine when I’m barely halfway done, I suppose.”

“Oh, Barry.”

She scooted over until her sleeping bag was touching his and her pillow was brushing his face, and about 80% of the tent was empty because they were so close together.

He could barely breathe.

“Uh…Iris?” He squeaked.

“Hmm?” She asked, her eyes now closed as she got herself comfortable, some of the hair at her brow brushing just underneath his chin. He swallowed hard.

“We should probably go to sleep now, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Goodnight, Barry.”

He licked his lips, his eyes flickering over to the far side of the tent where the lamp still shone.

“What about…What about the light?” He waited for her to respond. “Iris?”

A quiet snore greeted him, and he couldn’t bear to risk waking her by moving, so he decided a night light blazing into the corner of their tent all night long probably wasn’t the worst thing to have happen. It was practically a flashlight anyway.

So, Barry closed his eyes, and did his best to fall asleep. He focused on his feet at the bottom of the sleeping bag and his warm pajamas and the feel of the ground beneath his body, beneath the tent and the tarp put out in case of rain. He focused on the sound of the night, the crickets, the wind in the trees, the moonlight casting a shadow into a corner of the tent and the light creating a sunnier shade on the other side.

But all of this – all of it – did nothing to erase from his mind the pressure of Iris’ body against one side of his and the sound of her soft snores wafting across the top of his sleeping bag. And eyes closed or not, he didn’t think he’d be getting any sleep this night.

…

Barry had been right when he predicted sleeping next to Iris would prove to be difficult. He’d gotten a couple hours of sleep, but beyond that he fought to lay perfectly still, so as not to wake her. His eyes were wide open and in pain, but he could not bring himself to shut them – aside from the occasional blink – because out of Iris’ mouth in the middle of the night had been his name mumbled in her sleep.

“Barry,” she’d mumbled.

Barry!

He fought to put it behind him. After all, she hadn’t moaned or giggled or - dare he think it - writhed against him. She’d mumbled his name, and then never said it again.

But he couldn’t get past it. Iris Ann West, girl of his dreams, best friend since elementary school, had mumbled his name in her sleep.

What did it mean?

It probably meant nothing, he thought, chagrined.

But what if it didn’t mean nothing? What if it meant something?

Get a hold of yourself, Barry. It didn’t mean a thing.

But what if it did?

The possibility of her feeling the same way he did had never entered his mind before. It seemed impossible. Iris was very affectionate with him, but she’d also had plenty of crushes since they’d met. If she really like-liked him, wouldn’t it be impossible for her to like-like someone else?

He blinked. He was so tired.

But he couldn’t sleep.

Not with her pressed up against him, not with her nose in his neck and the scent of her hair wafting up; not with her pretty lips inches from his skin and her hands adorably tucked beneath her chin. And not with the possibility that she liked him too.

He watched above him as the night turned into morning and knew how useless he’d be throughout the day due to exhaustion. He’d have to pound down a couple energy drinks and a massive load of pancakes and apples if he was to keep up with Iris when they went swimming and make sure Joe didn’t suspect a thing.

Joe.

For a detective, he sure was missing a lot of signs. For starters, what man in his right mind puts a teenage boy in the same tent as his daughter? Especially when said boy is in love with said girl?

Maybe he just doubted Barry’s willingness to make a move. Which was pretty much right on the mark, considering how he hadn’t made a move in the last five years.

He huffed silently.

But Iris was out of his league! Way out of his league. She’d never consider him as a boyfriend. He was best friend material. He wasn’t boyfriend material. In her mind, that was probably how it was.

But she’d mumbled his name in her sleep!

He rolled his eyes at himself.

He was hopeless.

Suddenly, for the first time that night, Iris moved. She turned away from him, snuggled into her sleeping bed and resumed comfortably sleeping.

He could breathe again. He could move around now and go back to sleep. Maybe he’d even get a few hours in and be decent company later that afternoon.

But he knew he wouldn’t get any good amount of sleep in the same tent with Iris. So instead, he quietly slipped out of his sleeping bag, tip-toed across the tent, unzipped the door and stepped outside, zipping up the door as quietly as he could muster before slipping on his shoes and heading for the middle of the campsite.

It was cold this early in the morning, but not as cold as he felt when he saw who was sitting in a camping chair by a fire beneath the grate. Food was cooking. Sausages. Barry was surprised he hadn’t smelled it from inside the tent.

“Joe.”

The older man looked up, slightly startled.

“Barry. What are you doing up so early?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, just curious.

“Woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep,” he said truthfully, grabbing a chair leaning against the picnic table and setting it up on the other side of the campfire. “You?”

“Same. Plus, I like to get up early. And I’m used to it because of work.”

“Yeah, me too for school.”

Joe gave him a curious look. “You’ve been sleeping in past noon every day since school let out, Bear.”

Barry struggled to come up with a response. “I guess I’m all caught up then.”

He almost squeaked the last word, and the slight change in tone made Joe look at him suspiciously. But he must’ve dismissed it in his mind, because he didn’t question him further.

“I take it Iris is still sleeping?”

Barry nodded.

“How did last night go? With you two sleeping in the same tent?”

Flashes of the night and his inability to sleep because of her proximity to him and her murmuring his name came to him in that moment, preventing his ability to speak.

“Bear?” Joe asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Uh…” Barry blinked. “Fine. It was fine.”

Joe looked suspicious again, but once more didn’t question it.

“Are we having pancakes too?” Barry asked. “And apples?”

This time Joe blinked.

“That’s your go-to when you don’t get much sleep.”

“No, it isn’t,” he said quickly.

“Let me guess, you want some energy drinks too,” Joe said condescendingly.

Barry winced. “Don’t tell Iris?”

Joe was about to speak, but a pretty, feminine voice interrupted them both.

“Don’t tell me what?” Iris asked, one hand on each hip and an eyebrow raised at the both of them.

“I forgot the chocolate chips…for the pancakes,” Barry squeezed out, unable to think of anything else.

Iris gasped, scandalized, and then frowned.

“No, you didn’t, because I brought them. They’re behind the water bottles in the cooler in the truck.”

“Oh.” Barry glanced at Joe, then back at Iris. “Phew, that was a close one.”

“Here, I’ll go get them now.”

“No, Iris, that’s not nece…ssary.”

Joe chuckled, amused.

“Better go help her, son. The cooler is buried beneath about five duffel bags.”

Barry got to his feet and trudged after Iris.

“Iris, wait!”

Joe smiled to himself and turned the sausages over a final time before dishing them out and adding pancake mix to the pan ready to set on the grate.

“Did you find it, kids?” he called out when he was finished.

The sound of multiple bags falling to the ground sounded.

“Ki-”

“Yeah!”

“We’re fine!” They said simultaneously.

Amused, Joe sank back into his chair, blew on a sausage link and popped it into his mouth.

This would be an interesting day.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[greenjacketwhitehatdocmui]

Frozen:  Those Left Behind, Chapter 3

Well, rather large chapter this time around.  Sorry for the delay.  Hope you like it!

--Doc

    Agnarr remembered every lesson his father had taught him.  However, some hadn't made sense to him at the time.

    "The king must be above the people," Runeard said sternly. "He must try his best to listen to people, but in the end, the decision is his alone.  He must bear the weight of the kingdom for, in the eyes of the ordinary folk, we rule by divine right.”

    “Father,” Agnarr began, earning a frown.  “I don’t believe that we are any better than the common people.”

    “Yes, but they don’t know that,” Runeard said, his stern façade relaxing.  “The common folk look to us for strength and purpose.  Every day, we must validate their faith that we are the right ones to lead them.  To appear ordinary would shake their faith in us and our abilities.”

    It was Agnarr’s turn to frown.  What good was leadership if it was based on a falsehood?

    “So I have to uphold the royal image?”  That came out a bit sharper than Agnarr had intended.

    Runeard sighed.  “To confide in a few is a sad reality of leadership.  You must become the ideal.  If you show weakness in front of the common folk, that will plant the seed of doubt.”  He paused. “Would you disclose everything in a heated negotiation?”

    Agnarr shook his head.  “No, father. You told me to wait until both sides have stated their goals before intervening.”

    Runeard nodded.  “Whatever misgivings or doubts you may have, they are best kept hidden.  In order to be neutral and in control, you must take such irrationality and conceal it, don’t feel it.  Don’t ever let it show, for that is when the kingdom will start to crumble.”

--------

     “So you believe that the spirits saved you?” Yelana asked.  Her voice was tinged with more than a bit of doubt.

    “Believe?” Iduna asked.  She shook her head.  “No, Aunt Yelana.  I don’t believe, I know.  And they saved Agnarr and these sailors as well.”

    “The first time in forever that magic has actually done something good,” Mattias remarked.  Then he straightened up and cleared his throat.  “I apologize, Your Majesties.  It’s been a difficult time.”

    “That’s understandable,” Agnarr reassured him. “I—“

    Whatever Agnarr was about to say was interrupted by a round of growling stomachs.  The sailors tried to look nonchalant about it, but didn’t quite succeed.

    Yelana sighed.  “I don’t suppose that you soldiers can accommodate your king’s needs?”

    Mattias tried not to clench his jaw. “Unfortunately, not at this time,” he admitted.  “There aren’t many of us.”

    “I know,” Yelana replied.  There might have been a hint of malicious satisfaction in her voice.  “Well, the camp can spare a bit of food.  You will be served outside of the camp, of course.”

    “Of course,” Agnarr agreed.  It had been obvious that both Yelana and Mattias were eyeing both him and Iduna oddly.  That was to be expected.  After all, they’d been missing and presumed dead for almost thirty years.

    Both soldiers and sailors had been murmuring ever since Iduna had revealed her heritage.  She hadn’t had much of a choice; it was the best way to get Yelana’s attention and not have their little group immediately slaughtered.

    “Can’t believe she’s a—“

    “Quiet, do you want the King to hear?”

    “I thought there were more soldiers than this.”

    Captain Hansen glared at his men.  “I think we should be grateful that we’re alive.”

    They got the hint.  The jabbering ceased as the group made its way to the Northuldra camp.

--------

    "Thank you for accommodating us, Yelana," Agnarr said earnestly.

    The Northuldra leader frowned. "Contrary to what your countrymen may think, we are not savages.  You will have our hospitality for one night."  She held up a finger.  "Just the one.  And I expect an uninterrupted conversation with your...wife."

    "That's very fair and kind of you, Aunt Yelana," Iduna said.

    "Sometimes she can be reasonable," Mattias commented.

    "And sometimes you almost act like a person instead of a soldier," Yelana shot back.

    Mattias looked like he was going to respond, but thought better of it.  Instead, he clenched his jaw shut and looked straight ahead.

    It didn’t take long for them to get to the indicated clearing.  It was within sight of the Northuldra camp, but a comfortable distance away—comfortable for the tribe, at least.

    Agnarr noted that they were out in the open. Even in the darkness, it would be difficult for any hothead to try anything.  The tribe would catch sight of them and, if necessary, deal with it.

    He had no intention of letting things escalate. He hoped that a good meal in their bellies would help the sailors settle down.

    Campfires were made by the Northuldra, but not without some pointed glares and frowns.  They softened slightly as they saw Iduna looking…oddly hesitant.

    “We have stew and plenty of smoked salmon,” Yelana told the sailors.  “I apologize if it’s not up to…royal standards.”

    “It’s been quite a while,” Iduna replied.  “I’m looking forward to it.”

    Yelana’s expression softened.  “I’m glad to hear that,” she said gently.  “There’s nothing quite like home cooking, is there?  It’s nice to know that everyone can feel nostalgic for…simpler times.”  She shot a quick glance at Agnarr.

    “I enjoyed your reindeer stew,” Agnarr said smoothly.  “It was quite a comfort after a long journey.”

    Yelana said nothing, but watched as he helped pass out the bowls.  He took time to offer a word of comfort here and there as he circulated among the men.

    Agnarr was confident, yet humble.  He didn’t make grand, sweeping gestures with his hands like his father.  No, he was more conservative with his movements.  There was the gentle touch on the shoulder, the fact that he looked every man in the eye—that was what set him apart.

    Had he been another man’s son, Yelana would have had no issue with his union with Iduna.  Alas, he happened to be Runeard’s son—and she wasn’t sure how much of his father was still within the boy—man, she corrected herself.

    She felt Iduna’s tentative touch on her shoulder. There was anxiety in the younger woman’s blue eyes.

    “He’s a good man,” Iduna said.

    “That remains to be seen,” Yelana replied quietly. “I thought that Runeard was a good man, too.”  She softened. “You should eat, Iduna.  We can talk after you’ve had a good meal.”

--------

    “Not exactly the homecoming you were hoping for, is it?” Agnarr asked as they sat on a large rock.  They were some distance away from the rest of the Arendellian contingent.

    “No, but…I’m glad you’re with me,” she said, managing a shaky smile.  “It’s just that there’s so much I want to tell them, so many years of…”  She sighed in frustration.  “I don’t regret our years together, Agnarr.  I just wish that things could have been…smoother.”

    He gently squeezed her hand.  “Nervous?”

    “Terrified,” she admitted.  “Then again, the last time I saw her..."

--------

    Iduna wondered why her parents and aunt were in a field so far away from the camp. They were missing all the fun! She still had so many things that she wanted to show Agnarr, like her favorite hiding places.

    She peered from the brush and could barely make out their forms, along with a few of her other relatives.  Her mother was...crying?  Leaning in closer, she could make out snippets of voices.

    "I can't," her mother said, sobbing.  "I can't.  Not now, not after this.  And Iduna is too young."

    Yelana straightened up.  "Fine. Then I will lead."

    "What do we do now?"  One of her uncles asked.

    "Do?" Yelana asked with deceptive calm.  Iduna felt a shiver go down her back.  That tone was only used for when something was well and truly wrong. "We will find Runeard and make him pay.  We have been betrayed."

    "Even Prince Agnarr?"  One of her aunts asked.

    "If the Spirits permitted this...travesty, then surely they will permit due recompense," Yelana said harshly.  "His fate is in their hands."

    Those were the last words Iduna heard as she dashed out of the brush.  Vaguely, she heard people calling her back, but she had one mission in mind:

    She had to find Agnarr.  Whatever horrible thing had happened, he was not involved.

--------

    Iduna shuddered at the memory.  She had never seen Yelana so cold and full of hatred.

    "She wanted to kill you," Iduna said, her voice cracking.  "I couldn't let that happen."  She turned away in shame.

    He gently touched her cheek.  Uncertainly, she faced him.

    “They’re still family and they still love you,” he insisted.  “I can see it in Yelana’s eyes.”  He kissed her on the top of her head, heedless of who was watching.  “You’ll be fine.”

    "She was always intimidating," Iduna said. "I'm not sure I can face her, not after everything that's happened."

    "Yes, you can," he insisted gently. "Courage is holding out one moment longer, Iduna.  Everything you've endured has proven to me that you are the bravest woman I've ever known."

    She choked back a sob.  He kept proving to her that she did not deserve him, royal or not. And yet, they were together anyway. "I can do this," she said unsteadily.

    "You can do this," he affirmed.  Then he smirked.  "Besides, it's not like you can't wrestle her to the ground if she acts up."

    "Agnarr!" she exclaimed.

    "Well, it's true," he said.  "She must be almost seventy now."

    "So would my mother, if she's still alive," she returned.  "I guess there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

    He interlaced his fingers with hers and gently squeezed.  He didn't need to say anything more.

--------

    In the relative privacy of her hut, Yelana let the hard façade fall.  Now, she looked every bit her age.

    “It really is you, isn’t it?” she asked Iduna.

    “It’s me,” she confirmed.  “I’m sorry, there wasn’t any way for me to—“

    “You were dead!” Yelana exclaimed.  “We searched for days, hoping that we’d find you alive.  When that failed—“  She looked stricken.  “Your mother wanted to give up on everything.”

    Iduna flinched as she realized the implications. “Is my mother--?”

    Yelana let out a small, bitter laugh.  “She’s still around, though I doubt that you could call her `alive.’  I’ve rarely seen a more broken soul.  She’s lost too much already.”

    “I have to see her,” Iduna said urgently.  “Aunt Yelana, please--“

    “And what?!” Yelana asked sharply.  “Hasn’t she suffered enough already?”

    “Do you think that I haven’t suffered?!” Iduna exclaimed.  “Do you think that I was just off traipsing happily in Arendelle without a care in the world?”

    Yelana looked pointedly at Iduna’s dress.  “You seem to have made do.  All you had to do was turn your back on us and you’re a queen. I would call that a bargain.”

    “If I could have come back, I would have!” Iduna insisted.  “I had to save Agnarr because you were ready to kill him!”

    Yelana flinched.  "So, you heard that."

    "I heard that," Iduna confirmed. "Aunt Yelana, I have never heard you that angry in my life.  What could make you want to kill Agnarr?"

    "What could make you want to save him?!" Yelana countered.  "King Runeard killed your father!  He took a sword and—“  She grimaced at the memories.  “It was supposed to be a toast for peace, a drink shared between equals!”

    Iduna grew pale.  King Runeard had killed her father?  Was that why her mother and aunt had been arguing about leadership?

    “Of all the men you could have married, why HIM?!” Yelana’s gaze burned through Iduna.

    Iduna took a steadying breath.  She could not afford to lose control.

    “He’s a good man,” she said, fighting the urge to yell.  “He’s kind, generous and fair.  I’ve seen him angry, but he’s never wanted a fight.”

    “And he’s Runeard’s son,” Yelana reminded her. “What were you thinking?!”

    “And since when did you blame the child for the sins of his parents?” Iduna countered.

    “I have every right to question your judgment!” Yelana snapped back.  “I am family!”

    “So is my mother,” Iduna reminded her.  “And if she’s still alive…I would like to see her.” She paused, trying to calm herself down. “Please.”

    Yelana frowned.  “You would break her heart by having her see you like this?”

    “You would break mine, denying me the chance?”

    Yelana glared at her and sighed.  “You’re still stubborn,” she declared.  “That hasn’t changed.”

    “Agnarr says that our daughters get that from me,” Iduna fired back.  “I take it as a compliment.”

    Yelana paused.  “Daughters?” she asked, clearly surprised.

    Iduna nodded curtly.  “Two of them,” she confirmed.  “And until I see my mother, that’s all you’re getting.”

    The older woman sighed heavily.  “Do they at least know where they came from?”

    Iduna said nothing.  Her eyes, however, betrayed the slightest hint of weakness.

    Yelana shook her head.  “They would have been welcomed here.  I have to wonder if hiding yourself gets any easier with time.”

    Iduna flinched internally.  In her family, only she truly knew what Elsa was going through. Having to hide an integral part of your identity was painful.  She wanted to hold Elsa and tell her that she understood so much more than people thought.

    I’ll never get the chance, she thought to herself.  She hasn’t touched anyone since she was 12.  Assuming that we ever break the spell on this forest.

    Iduna felt a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. The years after she and Agnarr had been "rescued" from the mist hadn't been easy.  Traveling from town to town, she had to deny a vital part of herself, of her culture and heritage.  Even after she'd been reunited with Agnarr years later, she still pretended that she wasn't Northuldra.

    What choice did she have?  Everyone in town and in the surrounding settlements was naturally wary of Northuldra.  She'd heard all the horrible stories, ones which twisted the relationship between her people and magic.  Her people were subhuman animals who made dark deals with magical creatures.  You couldn't trust someone from Northuldra. How many Northuldra does it take to sharpen a blade?  None, because cutting through them dulls the blade.  And it went on and on for years before she'd reunited with Agnarr.

    Yelana noted the turmoil in Iduna’s eyes.  Her angry gaze softened a touch.

    “If this is really what you want, let’s go see your mother,” Yelana sighed.  “At least that husband of yours isn’t making any trouble—so far,” she added.

--------

    “The first winter was the hardest,” Mattias said hollowly as they gathered around the campfire.  “We were hunting and scavenging what we could.  But then the fever came, and…”

    “How many?” Agnarr asked gently.

    Mattias clenched his jaw.  “Six.  We lost six good soldiers before I swallowed my pride and asked for help.  We buried them near the dam.”  He sighed.  “It was the least I could do.”

    “The dam’s still standing?” Agnarr asked.

    Mattias managed a shaky smile.  “We guard it.  It’s the last testament to your father, after all.  He would have wanted it kept safe.”

    “Just six of you are left?” Captain Hansen asked.

    Mattias nodded.  “Six out of almost three dozen,” he confirmed sadly.  “The rest got old or careless or…sick.”  He shook his head.  “The Northuldra have provided herbal remedies each year out of…courtesy.  But I can see in their eyes that they want us gone, one way or another.”

    “But we outnumber them now, don’t we?” Captain Hansen asked.  “With my men—“

    Mattias shook his head.  “That won’t work.  Those spirits—they may not show themselves often, but they’re always around.  If we take any aggressive action towards the Northuldra—well, those spirits get in the way.”  He paused.  “Come to think of it, there’s been only one person I would have expected them to attack, but they didn't."

    Agnarr closed his eyes.  “My father,” he said solemnly.

    "Why's that?" Captain Hansen asked.

    Mattias shook his head.  "I'm not sure why.  I wasn't the closest to King Runeard.  I wasn't one of his advisors.  But the Northuldra think that he's a criminal for some reason.  That may be why they kept going after him."

--------

    He saw his father tossed off the cliff, a cunning move by the Northuldra warrior facing him.  He still remembered the strange expression on his face.  It was an odd combination of disbelief and rage.

    It was almost comical.  His father was a big, muscular man.  Yet in this frozen moment of time, all that muscle and weight meant nothing.

    “FATHER!” he cried out, reaching impotently.  If he could have turned time back to this moment, he would have been just a tiny bit closer.  He would have saved his father.  He was sure of it.

--------

    “Are you all right, my king?” Mattias asked. “You were somewhere else for a moment.”

    Agnarr managed a wan smile.  It was the first time that the old soldier had acknowledged his title.

    “I’m all right,” he demurred.  “I was just…remembering.”

    Mattias eyed him worriedly.  He had a good idea of what Agnarr had gone through.

    Captain Hansen sighed.  “I’m just surprised that you let the Queen go off like that, Your Majesty.  After what I’ve heard from the other soldiers, I wouldn’t trust the tribe, either.”

    “She can handle herself,” Agnarr stated. “She’s a strong woman.”

    “She’d have to be,” Mattias said diplomatically. The sorrow in his eyes had faded for the moment, replaced by mischief.  “I still remember the trouble you’ve gotten into over the years.”

    “Indeed?” Captain Hansen asked.  His curiosity was piqued.  “And what exactly—“

    “Have I told you about my lovely daughters?” Agnarr interrupted.  “No? Where should I start?”

    Both captain and lieutenant shared a quick glance. Clearly, Agnarr was trying to distract them from stories past.  Still, if the king wanted to talk about his daughters, they weren’t going to stop him.

    Soldiers and sailors alike approached the three of them. They were curious about Anna and Elsa—more so the latter for the sailors, since they barely saw her.

    Agnarr wove a careful tale of his daughters.  He regaled them with stories of mischief, chocolate and snowball fights.  He stayed away from any mention of Elsa’s powers.  The men were not ready to know about that.

    “Your Majesty, why were the gates closed?” Captain Hansen asked.

    Agnarr’s face fell.  “There was an…incident that I would rather not talk about.  It made me reconsider the safety of my family.”

    Captain Hansen frowned.  He’d been in the Navy ever since the gates had closed.  He saw firsthand how trade had suffered as a result. He wondered what would make a man close off an entire country.  

    Mattias changed the topic.  “Anyway, you said that Princess Anna is the one who slides down banisters?”

    Agnarr managed a small smile.  Leave it to Mattias to pick up on his mood, even after all these years.

    He continued his happy tale of his daughters. Inwardly, he frowned.  In the castle, it was easy to convince himself that he’d been doing the right thing.  Here, without the possibility of rescue, he had to face facts:  Elsa’s control was fragile and there was nothing he could do to correct his mistake.

    Right now, he would have given anything to be back at the castle, telling both his daughters how proud he was of them.  He would have reassured Elsa that she could control her powers.  He would have told Anna that, though her temperament was different than Elsa’s, she was no less qualified to lead.  And he would have told them both that they were strong, just like Iduna.

--------

    Iduna took a deep breath to calm herself.  Agnarr had always said that she was strong, but she didn’t feel like it right now.  No, she felt like a little girl admitting her mistake to her mother.

    This was assuming that her mother would have even recognized her.  There was every chance that her mother would have been lost in her own memories, much like her grandmother was.

    Yelana led her to a dimly-lit hut.  Iduna could barely make out the person sleeping within. Yelana shot Iduna one last, questioning glance before opening the tent flap.  Iduna nodded.

    The woman who stirred within her furs didn’t look as old as Iduna had expected.  Then again, Iduna remembered that her mother kept her age very well—something that had been passed on to her.

    Still, her mother’s hair had gone white and there were some age spots on her hands.  But there weren’t as many wrinkles as she thought.

    “Sunna?” Yelana said gently.  “We have a visitor.”

    Sunna took a deep breath and sighed.  With slow, deliberate movements, she sat up.

    “It must be important,” Sunna noted.  “Is Mattias trying to make demands again?  Or does it have to do with that commotion earlier?”

    “The Spirits have acted in a most unexpected way,” Yelana said carefully.  “We now have thirty-two more Arendellians in the forest…including their King and Queen.”

    "How is that possible?" Sunna asked. "Do you think that the Spirits are trying to tell us something?"

    Yelana shrugged.  "The Spirits act as they will.  We can only guess what their actions mean.  We've been unable to truly understand them after..."  She shook her head.  "Agnarr is now the king."

    Sunna sighed heavily.  “You know, I always thought that he was a decent boy.  I hope that he doesn’t take too much after his father.”  She paused. “But I forget myself.  We have a guest, don’t we?”

    "Their Queen," Yelana said in a carefully neutral tone.  "She's come to speak with you."

    Iduna resisted the urge to glare at her aunt. The latter had no intention of making this easy.

    Sunna frowned.  "Very well."  She managed a polite smile as she beckoned Iduna towards her.  "I am Sunna--"  She blinked.  "Forgive me for staring, but your eyes...they remind me of..."

    "Your daughter?"  Iduna ventured.  It was a bold and audacious move, but she had to take the chance.

    Sunna's eyes started to fill with tears. "Yes.  She had such beautiful blue eyes."  She paused.  "How did you know?"

    Iduna managed a shaky smile.  It was now or never.

    "Where the north wind meets the sea,     There's a mother full of memory..." Iduna prompted.

    Sunna gaped at her.  Their song had never spread out of the forest.  It had never had the chance.

    "Come, my darling, homeward bound..." she whispered, trembling. It couldn't be.  It was impossible.  It was...her.

    "When all is lost, then all is found," they chorused.

    Both mother and daughter's lips quivered as the tears flowed.  Sunna reached out tentatively.  Iduna gently grasped it and held it to her cheek, just like when she was younger.

    "Iduna..." Sunna sobbed.

    "Mama..."

--------

    "The Queen's been in there for hours," Captain Hansen reported.

    "We can wait," Agnarr said.  His tone was patient, but his knuckles twitched slightly.  "They're not going to do anything to her."

    "Somebody's coming out," Mattias noted. "It's...Yelana's sister?  But she hardly ever comes out."

    "Well, she looks pretty determined to me," Captain Hansen noted.  As if on cue, the loose group of sailors and soldiers parted before the old woman. "Wait, didn't the Queen call Yelana her aunt?  So, that would make her..."

    "The mother in law," Mattias concluded, not without some mirth.  "Well, my king, I think you're in for quite the visit."

--------

    "This is a mistake," Yelana muttered as she followed Sunna.  Iduna trailed behind them, looking worried.

    "This is my right," Sunna declared, using the staff as a support.  She walked briskly for her age, determined not to look decrepit in front of so many people.

    "Mother, please don't strain yourself," Iduna said, keeping pace with her family.

    "I'll rest up after this," Sunna promised.

    Soon, they found themselves near the campfire, with Agnarr flanked by Captain Hansen and Lieutenant Mattias.  Hansen looked curious, quite the contrast to Mattias's amusement.  Agnarr had the slightest tinge of dread in his face as he stood up and assumed the Royal Poker Face.

    "King Agnarr," Sunna greeted him formally.

    "Lady Sunna," he returned with a nod. "You're looking well."

    "If you mean `I'm glad that you're not dead,' then yes, I'm doing well," Sunna said.

    "Mother..."

    Sunna reached out and gently squeezed Iduna's hand. There was the faintest flicker of a wink that the men didn't catch.

    Releasing Iduna, Sunna stared levelly at Agnarr. There was the faintest hint of approval in her face.

    "Well, the Spirits have deemed that we are to live together," Sunna said.  "And we Northuldra trust the Spirits."

    "Perhaps the Spirits wanted there to be peace between us?" Agnarr suggested.

    "Perhaps," Sunna allowed.  "But a true peace would involve forgiving horrible acts." She shook her head.  "I cannot forgive your father for killing my husband. Thus, I cannot accept you into our tribe.  Not that my sister would agree with that, either."

    Agnarr tried not to let his disappointment show. "I...understand."

    Sunna managed a smile.  "I can, however, thank you for taking care of my little girl."

    She reached out with the hand that wasn't holding onto the staff.  After a moment, he took the proffered hand.

    "I expect to be entertained with stories of my granddaughters," she said.

    "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Iduna promised.  "We have plenty of them."

    Yelana tried not to frown.  This was a happy reunion.  So why did she feel uneasy about the whole affair?

(End of Chapter 3)

[thepetulantpen]

Circus/Class Swap

(Here’s barbarian Molly and bloodhunter Yasha for day 2 of @mollymauklivesfest !)

The first day Molly and Yasha meet, Bo and Gustav are dragging his heavily bleeding body towards camp.

He looks like he tried to take on a pack of gnolls by himself and paid the price in a collection of bite and claw marks. Even bleeding and clearly in pain, he struggles against their help, something bright and restless and untrusting in his eyes as he fights mindlessly against them. Yasha has to hold him down to let Ornna do some first aid and she strains to do so when he puts all his strength against hers. She thinks she only wins because he’s lost a lot of blood.

His first words to her are a series of angry growls and her first words to him are “Stop fucking scratching me.”

It gets a little better, after that. After they’ve stopped the bleeding, after the anger has faded from his eyes and left him exhausted by the campfire.

They eat in silence, Yasha having been tasked with watching him since she’s the only one who could hold him if he decided to lash out again; he has freakish strength for someone as lanky and probably underfed as he is. He devours whatever is placed in front of him, despite Ornna’s cooking being incredibly shitty, and Yasha feels she understands him a little better, seeing all the signs of a traveler who’s been alone on the road for far too long.

They don’t speak- him because he can’t and Yasha because she doesn’t want to- and that works for them, creating a language of grunts and gestures for the days it takes for his voice to return.

They’re walking together, off into the forest and away from the troupe, and hunting down rabbits or any other edible meat when she hears it first.

“Watch out,” he grabs Yasha’s arm, getting her attention in case his quiet, raspy voice couldn’t, and gestures to the ground, “Ivy.”

She nods and walks around it. They don’t talk anymore, and her new friend seems grateful for the lack of questions.

He’s a good hunter, they both are, and it’s a lucky thing for the troupe, since rations can only go so far when they get lost between towns and everyone else is too squeamish to hunt their own food. Yasha has been living off the land for as long as she can remember- which is, admittedly, not long- and the tiefling seems just as experienced, easily falling into a pattern with Yasha.

She’s glad the rest of the troupe doesn’t join them when they’re out here, so no one is around to insist that they make small talk or answer personal questions. Or have manners or stop being creepy or-

Be normal. It’s easier to breathe out in the open air with only the sounds of the forest and their own footsteps to accompany them.

The sound of crunching leaves- many crunching leaves- ahead of them and to their right makes Yasha and the tiefling tense at the same time, moving behind the nearest cover and crouching. Yasha takes out her swords and hands one to the tiefling. He weighs it in his hand and frowns but holds it ready anyway; Yasha assumes, from the strength she’s seen him display so far, that he’s more accustomed to heavy weapons.

They watch the silhouette of something in the near distance lumbering around, flattening bushes and knocking into trees. Yasha hopes it’ll pass them by and shifts to press herself flatter against the tree. The tiefling moves to do the same but he must trip over a root because he nearly topples over and has to grab a low hanging branch to keep from landing on his ass.

It snaps, of course, and lands in the bush underneath it, shaking the leaves loudly and releasing several startled insects.

The shadow turns toward the sound, giving Yasha an opportunity to see it properly: the head of an owl affixed to a massive bear shaped body. It must see her as well, forgetting its meandering path and making a beeline for their position.

Yasha curses under her breath and stands to meet it, but the tiefling is a few steps ahead of her, leaping over underbrush and bounding into the creature’s space.

He holds his borrowed sword in two hands- though it’s so lightweight the stance is unnecessary- and it spans the space between him and the owlbear, it’s point just brushing the beast’s beak.

The bear roars with the shriek of an angered bird, but louder, sharper than a single owl could ever be, so loud it makes Yasha wince, even from beyond the combat. The tiefling seems unbothered, not flinching when the air from the sound blows his hair back, and his face contorts into something definitely angry but also... passionate, energetic, thrilled.

Enraged.

He roars back at the beast and Yasha expects it to come out just as hoarse as his voice was earlier, but he surprises her with a strong, steady cry that carries a sharp edge in a hiss as it trails off, like a snake with doubled lung capacity.

He bears his fangs in what could be considered a grin, if one were to be generous, and lunges forward, sword clashing against claw. The tiefling fights like a wild animal, striking recklessly at every opportunity and taking hits without hesitating. None of the owlbear’s strikes, most of which hit the tiefling’s unarmored form, seem to do as much damage as they should and only make the tiefling angrier, bouncing back from every hit with twice as much energy to put into the next one.

Yasha hoped the owlbear would have left by now, figuring they weren’t worth the trouble, but it seems intent on staying, on finishing this, so she should take it seriously too. She spins her sword around and slides it against the back of her neck, where many other scars from similar moves are engraved. It glows, crackling with energy, and, when she concentrates, forms a line of ice shards, stronger and sharper than they look.

She wields the jagged thing deftly, moving fluidly to lunge at every unguarded spot she sees. It’s different than the tiefling’s brute force approach but ultimately gets them the same thing: more strikes against the owlbear than it is able to get on them.

In a last ditch effort, the beast throws its body at the tiefling, choosing to focus on taking at least one of them down. It would have succeeded in tackling him to the ground if Yasha’s quiet arcane words hadn’t made its blood boil and leak out over its eyes, blinding it and sending it off course enough for the tiefling to step out of the way.

The owlbear crashes to the ground and the tiefling spins, slamming his sword down in a killing blow with enough force that it dents and bends the blade.

Definitely used to heavier weapons.

He turns towards Yasha with a smile, that feral rage in his deep red eyes lighting up his face. It’s a deeply violent and slightly disturbed expression; blood speckled on his cheeks that rise with his wide smile of sharp teeth.

Yasha gets it, sort of, supposing it’s a bit like the thrill of her magic in her blood, thrumming out a forbidden rhythm she doesn’t fully understand.

The light fades from the tiefling’s eyes as the poise of battle leaves his tense shoulders, adrenaline and rage draining. He hands her back the sword, bent at an angle that makes it more useful as scrap metal than as a blade.

“Sorry.” His voice is even more scratchy now, abused from his earlier battle cry, and he tries to dampen his smile enough to look guilty.

He fails, but Yasha accepts the sword and the apology anyway.

“That’s alright. I’ve been meaning to get a new one.”

...

“Ok, you got it? One, two, three... lift!”

Yasha grunts as she takes up the other side of the pole, one of the heavy pillars that’ll hold up their tent. She’s strong, but not quite as strong as Molly, who lifts it onto his shoulder easily.

Now that they’ve been in town for a few days, he’s back to full health and full strength, decent food and a real bed making him feel better than he has in a long time. As intimidating as he can be when he’s ticked off, everyone seems to enjoy having a barbarian around to set up circus tents and move supplies from the carts.

They’ve made him a part of the family, no longer a dangerous stranger or a charity case. He’s gained a voice- courtesy of plenty of practice with Yasha- and a name- courtesy of Toya.

It takes Yasha and Molly half as long to set up the tent as it took Yasha when she was doing it alone, which gives them plenty of time to relax in the afternoon. When everyone else is practicing their acts, they sit on the banks of a nearby stream, washing clothes in the clear water.

Molly takes off his coat, the one he’s having specially made of those bright fabrics he’s become so fond of, and takes extra care in washing it. It leaves his arms bare, exposing the scars that litter his arms and torso, some from battles he remembers and others from battles he wasn’t around for.

Molly’s scars are varied, clearly from distinct enemies he came across in his travels- both before and after his memory cuts out. Yasha’s are different, all straight lines from the same cut of the same sort of blade, crisscrossing over every available surface.

Despite the differences, seeing the scars makes Yasha and Molly feel at home, a little less like freaks and more like warriors. They’ve lived through so much and they wear it on their skin as they fight side by side.

Molly looks up at Yasha with those unnerving red, pupil-less eyes and Yasha looks back with her mismatched, too bright eyes. They both smile, happy to be in each other’s company and feel at once understood and undisturbed. There are no secrets between them because they’d never ask, and there’s no shame because they’ve walked such similar paths.

Anybody who’d look at them would think they’re opposites- colorful, happy, angry Molly and dark, calm, creepy Yasha- but they fit together perfectly, totally at peace.

“You ready for the show tomorrow?”

Molly is slowly drying his coat as he talks, testing out his voice more and more these days. Yasha doesn’t mind, not like she thought she might, since helping out her friend has started to outweigh her need for silence.

“Yeah, you know, it’ll be fun. Your first show, it’s quite the experience.”

“So I’ve heard,” he pauses, thinking, then says, “I suppose we’ll be the muscle then?”

“That, and I do a bit of juggling at the beginning.”

Molly puts down his coat and stares for a second at the tall goth at his side, trying to determine if she’s joking. Her face doesn’t move to indicate she’s messing with him, remaining as deadpan as it always is.

“What, really?”

Yasha laughs and bundles her laundry up, standing as Molly scrambles to follow her.

“Yes, really.”

“You have to show me.”

Yasha bites her lip, not wanting to show off but... Molly looks so hopeful, tail swaying back and forth behind him.

“Alright, alright, take these.”

Molly takes the laundry easily, shifting the piles so they don’t obscure his view. Yasha unsheathes both of her swords, takes a few paces back and tosses themin the air, settling into a simple rhythm for a few rounds before dropping them back into her hands and bowing dramatically.

Molly’s eyes are shiny with wonder and Yasha thinks he would clap if he didn’t have his hands full.

“You should teach me sometime!”

Yasha smiles and takes some of the laundry back, looking off into the distance, where the other performers are gathering for the procession. This is just the first show of many with Molly and Yasha hopes every one of them feels as special as this one.

They’ve got a long journey ahead and she’s glad to take Molly along with her. Once a traveler, always a traveler.

“Definitely.”

[btsiguess]

BTS Reaction - sex while camping

A/N: Here’s for that anon that requested this! You also requested something else, which I’m going to write as well so I hope you look forward to that! I love you.

Warning: mature themes below 

Seokjin:

It was nice, camping with Jin. Everything went off without a hitch. You two had arrived at your campsite bright and early and easily put up your tent and set up your chairs around the firepit. Jin even had created a snazzy little faux-kitchen out of a picnic table and a little wash basin you had brought. You had tried to tell him that camping was about taking a break and enjoying the outdoors, but he had just laughed and said that the best way to enjoy anything was with a little food in your belly, and so the matter was settled and he continued to cook.

In the resulting hours Jin had made you both enough food to last a week, but it didn’t matter. He seemed content to experiment with cooking over the fire, and you gazed at him lovingly over the top of your book as he did so.

You really were blessed with Jin, weren’t you.

That being said, the boy had you eating all day and you felt about ready to burst.

You couldn’t say the same for your ever-hungry black-hole-for-a-stomach boyfriend however.

“Babe!” He said, holding up a bag of marshmallows. “Let’s make s’mores!”

You groan at the thought, clutching your stomach. How could he possibly want more food?

“Jin, you’ve had me eating all day!” You scold, “I seriously don’t think I could eat another bite.”

Jin pouts at you and the look makes you sigh and immediately relent. You could never deny your boyfriend anything.

He sets the both of you up with marshmallows on sticks, moving his chair as close as possible to yours so he can hold your hand in his while you wait. You let him prattle on about how you have to let the marshmallow reach the most perfect shade of golden brown before putting it in your s’more, just staring at his face and wondering how you managed to get so lucky, but he stops abruptly when he notices that your marshmallow has been on fire for a good few seconds.

You don’t mind, really. A s’more tastes good no matter what the marshmallow looks like, and it isn’t long before you’ve got the sticky, messy sweetness of your campfire treat in your mouth.

You hum happily as you chew, and Jin too, seems pleased with your state. You eat in silence for a while, but soon Jin is pushing your hair out of your face, chuckling about how you’ve made a mess of yourself.

You expect him to wipe your mouth off with a finger, but instead he leans in, kissing you before gently kitten licking the chocolate and marshmallow from around your mouth.

You’re a bit breathless by the end and you can tell by the darkness in his eyes that he’s just as affected.

“You’re always so sweet.” He says, and you laugh quietly.

“You’re ridiculous.”

He simply pulls you into another kiss before standing and reaching out to you.

“Come on babe,” he tells you, “I think I’m hungry for something a bit different now.”

Yoongi:

You honestly were amazed that you had been able to convince Yoongi to go camping with you. It was always something you’d enjoyed--the quietness of nature, the ability to take some time off and just be. It was all so nice.

Yoongi didn’t really agree, but you’d been able to lure him away with promises of him being allowed to sleep all day while you were there.

For his part, Yoongi seemed to be having an alright time. He had spent some time writing, some time reading, and obviously some time sleeping. But he had also made time for you, enjoying the rare opportunity he had for the two of you to be alone.

On your second night, it began to rain quite heavily just after dark. The splattering rain drops ushered you and your boyfriend to take shelter in your tent, and you felt absolutely blessed that you and Yoongi hadn’t taken any shortcuts when deciding on your tent and laying your tarp down. The rain stayed blissfully outside your cozy shelter, the only sign it was there being the shadows it made as it trickled along the tents surface.

You were snuggled into your boyfriend’s side, listening to the sounds of the rain outside. You were both piled with blankets and sleeping bags, and so despite the coolness of the air, you felt wonderfully warm. Yoongi seemed content as well, the string of complaints you’d expected when it began to rain hadn’t come and the boy’s breathing was calm. It all felt perfect, honestly.

Under the blankets, Yoongi’s hand began trailing up and down your side absentmindedly. The touch was soft and soothing, and even though you doubted he meant to rile you up, that’s exactly what it was doing.

You tilted your head to place gentle lingering kisses up the side of Yoongi’s neck and before you knew it he was rolling you onto your back softly to press his lips to yours.

There’s no sound but the rain on your tent as you kiss each other deeply, your breaths mingling together in the darkness. You could see Yoongi’s faint outline in the moonlight and it took your breath away, how ethereal he looked.

You quickly discarded each other’s clothes and it wasn’t long before the boy above you gently eased two of his fingers deep within you, to ready you for him. Your gasps and mewls are almost drowned out by the rain, but Yoongi still appreciated them. He alternated between catching your noises in his mouth and resting his head upon your shoulder as he touched you.

He made you come apart on his fingers before he slowly slid inside of you. A loud moan left your lips at the sensation, and soon Yoongi was thrusting into you, slow and deep. You’re intoxicated by the situation, unable to find your breath or hold back the desperate pleas and sighs that left your lips. Yoongi kissed you as you both cum, confessions of love spilling from his lips as he did so.

Namjoon:

“Joonie, are you serious?” You scold, for what seems like the hundredth time today. He was the one who had wanted to go camping. Him. and now he was breaking everything.

He simply shrugs sheepishly as he holds up the broken tent pole in his hands. You hadn’t even finished taping up the last one he had touched. You sigh deeply, and shoo him away before working on fixing the tent yourself. You loved your boyfriend deeply, but sometimes it was just more prudent to do these tasks on your own.

Eventually, you finish setting your tent up, but by now the sky is dark. You allow Namjoon to help blow up the air mattress watching him like a hawk all the while. He manages the task without a hitch and you breathe a sigh of relief. The air mattress was one thing you couldn’t live without. You sent him to put the mattress in the tent as you began to gather the blankets and pillows from the car.

Before you’d even unlocked the door however you heard a small snap and a quiet curse from your boyfriend. The tell tale signs of trouble.

“Um, babe?” He calls to you, and you let your head fall forward into your hands before answering.

“Yes, Namjoon, what did you break?”

You can’t see him, but you imagine for a moment the small pout that must have graced his lips at your words. The thought makes you smile. He was so damn cute sometimes.

“The zipper.” He says back to you. “I can’t get the tent open.”

The next few minutes are spent with the two of you fumbling around in the dark, under only the spotlights on your phones. Somehow Namjoon had managed to tug around the zipper just perfectly so that it had snapped off, while simultaneously twisting the zippers track just enough that the secondary zipper could no longer move as well. Honestly, you were a bit impressed.

You both decide it can’t be fixed in the darkness, and so you snuggle up in the backseat of your van, silently blessing any gods that might exist for its extractable seats.

It’s actually quite comfortable, laying on the air mattress inside the back, and before you know it Namjoon’s lips are pressed against your neck.

“I’m sorry, babe.” He whispers. “This was all my idea, but I fucked everything up.”

You just laugh softly, before turning to face him.

“Joonie, it’s okay. I’m still having fun anyway. This is actually a lot nicer. I mean, there’s no bugs in the car. And I’ve got the AC on.” you gently place your lips to his, merely meaning to give him reassurance; however, the kiss gets more heated than you originally anticipated, and soon Namjoon is tearing at your clothes.

“Let me apologize properly.” He says before sinking down between your legs and attacking your core with his tongue. Soon, you’re a moaning, gasping mess and Namjoon takes pity on you. He flips you around and you brace yourself on the back of the seat as he slides into you from behind.

“God, babygirl,” he breathes out, “maybe I should fuck up more often if this is how you let me apologize.”

Hoseok:

It was nice, camping with the boys. They were a bit rowdy, obviously, but other than that it was definitely a pleasurable experience. One you were absolutely going to repeat. The maknae line had sequestered you for the day—they viewed you a little bit like a makeshift Mom… or at least a really cool aunt. The younger boys often wrangled you into their mischief, if not for the extra set of hands than for the liability factor. The hyungs had trouble getting mad at you, and Hoseok would absolutely always come to your defense, so really it was all very good planning.

You didn’t mind the boys’ antics as well, and it made you happy that they liked and trusted you. It made you especially happy that they didn’t pull any pranks on you.

When Taehyung had approached you and dragged you off under the guise of going fishing you had no idea that you were actually getting tied up in another one of their schemes. But as the three young boys filled you in on their plan you felt your excitement growing. This camping trip was lacking in a little excitement.

The plan had been made a few hours ago and those of you in cahoots had been on the edge of your seats ever since. Now, finally, you found yourself in position: lying low on your stomach, out of site in the darkness, dressed all in black. The ground was dirty, yes, but still worth it, and you anxiously awaited the next step of your plan.

You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom about fifteen minutes before, and you could hear faintly in the distance that your boyfriend was worrying about you. Finally, you heard him get up and start shifting, making his way through the forest to search for you. He called your name a few times muttering nervous curses under his breath as he kept pushing forward. Soon he’s right in front of you, the beam of his flashlight easily passing over you and missing you in the darkness. He turns to walk the other way and you pounce. You grab Hoseok by the ankle letting a small growl leave your throat.

Hobi shrieks. A high pitch sound that has the other boys at the campsite rolling with laughter. You pop your head up before your boyfriend has a chance to escape and Hoseok breathes a quick sigh of relief before his eyes flare with anger. Quickly, he lifts you from where you’re stationed in the dirt and throws you over his shoulder.

“Sorry boys, seems like me and my lovely girlfriend have to turn in early tonight!” He says as you raise your eyebrows in confusion.

Hobi unceremoniously shoves you inside your tent before pinning your body down with his own, his lips finding yours with an unbridled ferocity that surely means you’ve taken your little prank too far.

Any attempt you make at speaking he gushed with his mouth as he removes both of your clothes and starts to tease your core with his fingers. Gasps and sighs leave your mouth easily amid his ministrations and soon he grabs your hair, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“You made me scream in front of the boys, baby. I think it’s only fair you let me return the favor.”

Jimin:

Camping was something you and your family always did over the summer and so you were excited to finally involve Jimin in this family activity. Even though you didn’t really like camping, it was still important to you that Jimin come, and it seemed important to him as well. He’s perfectly polite when your father and uncles teach him how to set up the tent and make the fire, only laughing sweetly at how you grumble when the older men insist that these are the “men’s jobs” and send you off to help your mother and aunt cook.

You’re not surprised by the way Jimin wins over your family's hearts completely, his charm and eagerness to please making you smile from ear to ear. The men affectionately pat him on the back while the women coo over how handsome he is, asking you—nearly begging you—to think about sharing. Of course it’s all in good fun, and as the night wears on and the alcohol comes out, you’re relieved to see that Jimin is feeling comfortable enough to grab a beer from your dad and chug some down. You follow in his footsteps, allowing yourself the rare occasion to get a little tipsy. It’s only later, when you’re all sitting around the fire, that you notice the effect the alcohol has had on you.

You’re enraptured by the way Jimin cards his fingers through his hair as he talks to your cousins about something. Entranced by the way his eyes crinkle at the sides while he makes jokes and acts basically perfect. Jimin catches you staring, finally, and he recognizes the look in your eyes immediately. After a cursory glance around, Jimin locks eyes with you again before catching his lower lip between his teeth, allowing it to drag slowly out from under his bite. You feel your cheeks heat up and a tingle in your core at Jimin’s actions, but before you can retaliate your father is pulling him away, muttering something about gathering more firewood.

Jimin isn’t set free until after everyone begins to turn in for bed, and the two of you lay in silence in your tent for a while as lights get turned off around you, the day finally drawing to a close. When the outside air is silent, the shift in the air is palpable. You waste no time wiggling out of your sleeping bag and straddling your boyfriend, slamming your lips onto his in an attempt to show him just how much his behavior has been teasing you.

Jimin allows you to play with his lips and tongue for a while and you feel him harden beneath you, his erection sticking into you through your sleeping shorts.

“Fuck, kitten,” Jimin whispers, “are you sure we can do this here? Everyone’s so close by.”

You answer by grinding your hips down onto the boy beneath you and that seems to be enough reassurance for him. He flips your positions easily, ridding you both of your shirts and pants. He allows you to trail your fingers up and down his abdomen while he kisses your neck, but soon grows impatient with your teasing. He grabs your wrists in his hands, holding them by your head as he grinds his hips into yours. You’re a gasping panting mess and Jimin merely looks at you.

“You’re not going to be able to keep quiet, are you kitten?” He asks you, smirking when you give an honest shake of your head.

He flips you over, you that you’re on all fours beneath him before slipping your panties down your hips and off. You don’t move, but can hear him shuffle as he takes off his underwear as well.

Lightly he pats your shoulders, “come on kitten, down on your elbows like daddy likes it.”

You immediately shift your position so your head is resting against the air mattress, and Jimin takes a moment to admire the view this allows him.

He blows lightly on your core, watching the way you automatically clench around nothing. He wastes no time sliding two fingers into you, stretching you out for him.

You’re a moaning mess by the time Jimin presses himself inside of you and at the feeling you let out a loud moan—much too loud for how close you are to your family. The sound has both you and Jimin freezing, waiting for any sign you might have been heard, but when none comes Jimin begins thrusting into you hard and fast.

You know your moans are too loud but before you can do anything to stop them Jimin’s hand wraps in your hair, pressing you down into the pillows and blankets. The cushions swallow your moans enough so you don’t have to worry that you’ll be heard, and after a few moments Jimin takes this as a sign that he can move faster and harder.

“Oh fuck, you know how much daddy loves hearing you moan.” He says. “But you have to keep quiet now, don’t you kitten? Daddy’s got to keep your dirty little mouth pressed into those pillows to keep you quiet huh? You like daddy’s dick that much?”

Jimin’s dirty talk makes heat shoot through your core, and you begin to feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.

“God,” Jimin continues, “look at how wet you are, you feel so good wrapped around me. I don’t even care who hears anymore I can’t stop. Even if your parents unzipped the tent right now I wouldn’t stop, I’d just keep fucking you. I’d make you cum right in front of them, all over my cock. I’d show them who you really belong to. Fuck.”

Your walls were tightening around Jimin’s length, and you could feel his thrusts getting sloppy. You were both close.

“Come On kitten, cum for me. Cover daddy in your cum.”

The world whites out for a moment as you finish, and you can vaguely feel Jimin cumming too. Releasing deep within your walls.

He pulls out and lays down beside you pulling you in for a lingering kiss.

“I love you,” He tells you, “we should go camping more often.”

Taehyung:

You were absolutely exhausted, but that wasn’t going to stop you at all. Instead of turning in after your long day of swimming with the boys, you found yourself on Tae’s lap as you all sat around the campfire, drinking and laughing. It was wonderful.

Your bathing suit had dried hours ago, as had the rest of your little crew’s. Still you hadn’t bothered to change out of it, too tired to make the short walk to your tent and back.

It was beginning to get a little cold, but of course Jin was already on it. He gathered blankets for everyone--along with another round of beers--and your night continued.

You and Tae are snuggling together under the blankets, and you’re just about to let yourself doze off when you feel your boyfriend’s hand brushing along the inside of your thigh. You’re jolted awake as he continues his ministrations, moving slowly upward without missing a beat in the conversation.

Soon, his hand hooks within the inside of your bikini bottoms, pulling them to the side and sliding his fingers within you. You bury your face in Tae’s neck, under the guise of being tired, and let him continue pressing his fingers in and out of your heat. You can’t help but move your hips slightly, grateful for the thick duvet that covers your indiscretions.

You feel Tae getting hard underneath you, and soon he shifts you up slightly, pulling himself out and wasting no time sinking you down onto his length. The action is so quick that to anyone else it would just look like he had shifted you in his lap, but you’re still shocked by the boy’s audacity.

“What are you doing?” You whisper to him. “We could’ve just gone to the tent!”

“It was too far,” he replies, as if he wasn’t buried to the hilt inside of you, “c’mon baby, rock your hips for me, I want you so bad.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to listen to him, probably your overwhelming horniness, but sure enough you begin to slowly roll your hips, allowing Tae’s cock to grind within you.

Your boyfriend lets you continue this teasing motion for a few minutes before he shifts you up slightly, moving his hips beneath you and thrusting into your core.

You’re sure that no one can tell what’s happening beneath the blanket. And you’re even more sure that the only give-away to your public indecency would be the look of pure ecstasy on your face. It’s for that reason you keep your head safely buried in the crook of Taehyung’s neck as he fucks you. Rolling his hips inside you, hitting your g-spot over and over again, and taking your breath away.

It isn’t long before you’re cumming around him; your exhaustion coupled with the absolute filth of what you were doing pulling you apart in no time flat. Taehyung follows soon after, letting your climax pull him over the edge too.

Once he’s filled you with his cum, he gently pulls out of you and tugs your bathing suit back into it’s place. He fixes himself as well before shifting you both, pulling you to your feet and quickly wrapping the blanket around the two of you.

“I think we’re going to turn in.” He says, and you wave goodbye to the group.

You think you’ve gotten away with it all too, until your eyes reach Min Yoongi’s. He simply arches one brow at you and winks, adjusting his pants slightly as Taehyung pulls you away.  

Jungkook:

Jungkook has always been a little bit extra. Okay… “a little bit” is being generous, but he’s your boyfriend, and you’re trying to be kind. You hadn’t realized when you asked him to go camping with you that it would turn into one big attempt at him trying to impress you with his strength and manliness--if you could even call it that--but honestly looking back on it, you’re a bit more surprised that you didn’t see this coming.

“Look babe,” Jungkook calls as he hauls over two armfuls of freshly cut firewood, “I did this myself!”

You giggle at how smug and proud your boyfriend looks over this, trying to remain supportive and biting your tongue on the reminder that there’s already more than enough wood for the fire, since he’s been chopping wood all day.

“Good job, muscle pig.” You shoot back, and Jungkook gives you a winning smile.

“Come on babygirl, admit it. You like when I act all manly and shit.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s statement, electing not to answer rather than to admit that he might be right.

“What?” Jungkook taunts. “Got nothing to say?”

“Shut the hell up and go be manly somewhere else. Don’t you have some wood to chop or something?” Jungkook gives a cocky twitch of his head before allowing his smirk to become more pronounced.

“Babygirl, I’ve got some wood, but it doesn’t need any chopping.”

You feign a retching sound at Jungkook’s statement, getting up from your chair so you can walk down to the little lake and be away from your fuckboy of a boyfriend. Before you can get too far though, Jungkook lifts you into the air, spinning you both until your back is pressed firmly into the face of a tree.

You wrap your legs around his waist, partly for balance and partly because damn if Jungkook acting like a fuckboy doesn’t get you going just a little bit, and you feel his hardness pressed against your core.

“I wasn’t kidding.” He tells you, pressing his hips into you as if there was a way you might not have noticed. “C’mon babe, I want you so bad.”

You merely nod slightly, and Jungkook drops you to your feet just long enough to rid you of your pants and underwear and pull his around his thighs.

He doesn’t waste any time prepping you, instead merely pushing his length into you slowly. The stretch burns a bit, but it’s a feeling you absolutely love and soon, you’re gasping and letting your head fall back against the tree behind you.

“Mmm,” Jungkook says, “you were so wet already, babygirl. And you try to tell me you don’t find my displays of manliness hot.”

You try to respond, but your words get stuck in your throat as he begins fucking into you. His pace is relentless, and he trails a hand down to rub over your clit as he thrusts his hips inside of you over and over again. The onslaught against your core has you coming undone within a few minutes and Jungkook only lasts a bit longer than you before falling over the edge.

You both lean together, trying to catch your breath before you begin laughing uncontrollably. Jungkook throws you a questioning look before you say, “wow Jungkook. Doing it against a tree. How manly.”

A/N: I didn’t mean to do that in the Jimin one I just... 

[goswagcollectorfire]

CARL’S BLOG: BLUE SKIES OF EL DORADO,ARKANSAS; carlsblog.online; http://sbpra.com/CarlJBarger

5-22-20: Story time around campfire at Calion Creek.

Everyone enjoyed a good campfire fish dinner, and when

night set in, everyone gathered around the campfire to hear stories

of the past. Most of the older boys wanted Marion to share

his Civil War experiences.

I’ve heard Marion’s story before, and I’m convinced that

God had a purpose for saving Marion’s life. Especially since so

many soldiers died of starvation, disease, and battle wounds at

the Battle of Vicksburg. As he told his story, there was quietness

throughout the camp. The only time Marion’s story was interrupted

was when an owl or bull frog would make their unusual

sounds in the background.

After Marion told his story, it was requested that Henry and

I tell our stories.

Henry and I intentionally avoided the gross parts where we

attended soldiers who were butchered up from fragments of cannons.

Some soldiers had severe wounds to the stomach so that

their intestines protruded from their stomachs. These wounds

were called gut shots. There was little that we could do for these

soldiers.

Several soldiers bled to death from horrible wounds to the

legs and arms. To save their lives, we had to amputate many

limbs. We had no pain medicine to give the wounded soldier

when we removed their limbs. They would scream to the top

of their lungs, and many would just close their eyes and die. I

believe the pain was so unbearable that it made their hearts stop.

Some nights I wake up dreaming about those horrible experiences

at Shiloh and Corinth.

The sharing of our stories seemed to be one of the highlights

to our camping trip. The Civil War was a bad thing for America.

Although it was bad, our stories needed to be told. The reasons

for the war, the outcome of the war, and aftereffects to the world

should all be made a part of our history. Never again should

something like this happen to the United States of America. It will

take a long time for resentment and hatred to run its course. Until

then, we need to work together to make our country strong again.

The Civil War will go down in history as being the bloodiest

war of all times in America. Never again should brother fight

against brother or cousin against cousin.

Before I turned in for the night, I instructed George not to

start breakfast until seven o’clock. By the time breakfast was

ready at eight, everyone should be up and around. Was I ever

wrong!

As usual, the little boys were the first to wake up. They

wanted to start fishing early so they could catch more fish

than the bigger boys. As we called the older boys to come to

breakfast, there was only one sound that we heard, and that was

snoring.

We decided to leave them alone and let them sleep. We were

hoping they would finally smell the aroma of fried sausage,

bacon, and eggs, and be encouraged to get up, dress, and enjoy

a good breakfast.

As we sat around the campfire, my thoughts went back

to when I was a small boy in Autauga County. My father and

mother would take the entire family fishing and camping. We

had such a good time together. I remember Father and Mother

would let us sleep if we wanted to after a late night.

Henry, Dent, John, and I agreed this camping trip was

mostly for the boys and not us. We would let them enjoy their

extended time for sleeping while we would enjoy our hot coffee

and morning fishing.

The younger boys soon discovered that the fish were hungry

and were biting any bait they put on their hooks. Our boys were

having the time of their lives catching good-sized catfish and

bream.

At nine-thirty in the morning, Law came out of his tent. He

was followed by the rest of our boys. “Where is the food, we’re

starved!” he said as he sat down by the campfire.

“Why didn’t y’all wake us up?” Everett asked.

Henry, Dent, John, and I just looked at each other and

laughed.

George passed out the tin plates and coffee cups and said,

“Y’all dig in!”

They ate like starving teenagers. It was fun watching them

enjoy their breakfast.

Dent asked, “Whose pole is this?”

“That’s mine,” Robert said.

“Robert, when I got up this morning, I saw this pole floating

in the water out there. As I waded out to retrieve it, I pulled it

back to the bank and found this little catfish.”

Dent reached down in a big bucket and pulled out a large

catfish.

“See what you missed out on, Robert?” Dent said.

“Since that catfish was on my pole, do I get credit for the

fishing derby count?” Robert asked.

“I’m afraid not, Robert. The derby officially ended yesterday,”

Henry said.

“If you guys want to fish awhile longer after you finish your

breakfast, we might catch enough fish for another meal. If we

do, we’ll eat lunch and then head back to Three Oaks,” I said.

The fish were biting well. By eleven o’clock, we had caught

enough fish for another big meal. George and Big Jim went to

work cleaning and battering the fish. Within thirty minutes, they

had enough fish cooked for our lunch.

There is something special about George’s fried fish. I do not

know the ingredients he uses in his batter, but whatever it is, it is

good. There is something special about eating fried fish cooked

in a black iron skillet over an open campfire.

[nolifehero-blog]

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[cypressa]

A How-To Guide For Successful Camping Vacations

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When camping near a source of flowing water like a creek or stream, do your "business" downstream. It will help keep the water flowing by your site free of your fluids. Relieve yourself a minimum of 300 feet downstream. Set up your sleeping arrangements before darkness strikes. Remember, it can get dark quickly so it is important to allow ample time to set up your campsite. It's easier to build your nightly shelter while you have plenty of light to help you see what you're doing. If camping was a cherished childhood memory, all you need to start it up again is the right motivation and advice. This article will help bring back fond camping memories and help steer you in the right direction for a trip that goes well.