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cowboydisaster · 4 months

Note

I have no idea about the historical accuracy of this but imagine a reader who used to be in a pretty well off family (think like the braithwaites level in society) but she left it all and gave everything up to be with Arthur. It’s her first Christmas away from her family and she misses the Christmas tree back home. Queue Arthur cutting a tree down with his big manly man strength and dragging it back to camp to surprise her🥲

* ˚ ✦ Stardust * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 4k a/n: margo!! This prompt was too cute. I kinda took it and RAN so I hope I did it justice! xx

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: SEVEN days 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

If there's one thing you haven't gotten used to in this way of life, it's the elements. Camp is situated in Big Valley along the Upper Montana River. It's beautiful, and more open country than you've ever seen in your life. But damn, is it cold in winter. Snow drifts down from Mount Shann, creating a beautiful flurry of white around camp, albeit a freezing one.

At this moment, though, the cold doesn't bother you. In the safety of your tent, back tucked against Arthur's chest, it's impossible for the cold to reach you. He keeps you warm. Like a furnace, that man. You'd be worried he was running a fever if you weren't so used to his toasty-warm temperature.

You shuffle against Arthur, readjusting in the soft cotton cot. The wind whispers quietly outside, peacefully. Gone is the loud whipping ice storm that had come through a week or so ago. It's been replaced by a quiet falling of snow, the creak of nearby oaks.

“Darlin’? What is it?” Arthur whispers, voice sleepy against your ear. The hand that's hung over your waist squeezes gently, a small act of encouragement to respond. You smirk. You can picture his face, eyes closed, or half-lifted, eyebrows knitting with worry.

“What's wrong?” He whispers again. The hand on your waist flattens against your stomach, gently pulling you back towards him.

Oh, your Arthur. His heart is perfectly in tune with yours, and well, when yours is sunk, he notices. A peculiar little thing you've discovered– he always notices those small details, those small fluctuations in your mood. On top of that, he always addresses them.

Those selfless personality traits are why you left the city in the first place. Arthur is genuine, real. He's caring, and he communicates with you when you're upset. Your mamá and papá were far too concerned with selling you off to the most eligible bachelor in Saint Denis to care about your feelings. The bachelor's characteristics were of no importance, just his wealth and status in society. That life was… a load of shit, as your dear Arthur would say.

You'd started sneaking downtown at night to get away from the chaos of your home. Your parents were always fighting and screaming. Broken dishes and ringing ears became a staple in that house. La Bastille Saloon was a short walk from your house on Flavian Street. And that's where you met Arthur.

Despite his career, you immediately recognized him to be the first honest man that you'd ever met in your life. In a mere thirty seconds of conversation, you'd found a depth to him that your father could never scratch, a kindness that no arranged husband would show you. And so it became a habit. You'd sneak out of your window a few times a week, meeting him at La Bastille– talking, laughing, drinking. Arthur's whiskey burned far more than the French wine you'd sipped on in your life. Where you came from, drinking was for show. To sip on a glass of imported chablis was to assert class, but Arthur taught you how to drink for fun. He'd taught you how to play cards and how to cure a hangover. Your parents would be mortified at your unladylike behavior.

Arthur showed you fun, and kindness, spontaneity and honesty in a world that you thought was without those virtues. When Arthur had asked you to join him, it was an easy yes. He laid it all out. the good, the bad and the ugly. Criminals, you'd be joining. He was afraid that you would turn away, but crime is no stranger to you. Coming from high society, you saw the rich take from the poor time and again. You saw laundering and fraud, servitude, coercion and arranged murder.

All your family does is twist lies for their own benefit. They're all snakes, sinking their teeth into everything they come across. Gluttonous in their pursuit to expel venom. It has drowned the whole city of Saint Denis, sunk into the cobblestone roads and poisoned the entire place.

You see more honesty in the Van der Linde's life of crime than in your family's. At least the Van der Lindes are honest about what they do, and only rob from those who rob from others.

Leaving with Arthur was the most freeing feeling you've ever experienced. You love him with all your heart. You love the gang, and your new life, and yet even with all that you've gained, you still left so much behind. Joining Arthur; it's the best decision you've ever made, and you don't regret it for a moment, but the approaching holiday is bringing out sadness, memories of your childhood, friends that you'd left in the city. Any good memory of the city is recalled through rose tinted glasses, but still, it's beginning to sting now that it's almost Christmas.

“Darlin’?” Arthur says, the grogginess no longer evident in his voice. He pulls you back to the present like a tether. His thumb drags soothingly over your hip bone, and underneath the thick blankets, you lay your hand atop his.

“Hmm?” You offer.

“Where's your head at?” Arthur whispers, breath against your ear.

“Oh, just thinking.” You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. It's a sad smile, bittersweet. If a candle were lit, and he could see it, Arthur would be much more worried.

His fingertips brush your hair away from your face, gently pulling some strands behind your ear towards the braid they have escaped from.

Arthur lifts his hand from you, adjusting the blankets as you turn over in bed. Once you're facing him, he makes sure that all of the blankets cover your frame.

“It's just that this will be my first Christmas away from home.”

A small silence ensues. One that threatens to let tears slip down your rosy cheeks. Your nose tucks into Arthur's chest as you sniffle, hoping he hasn't taken your words with offense. This is your home now, and you wouldn't have it any other way. But old habits die hard.

“You missin’ home?” Arthur whispers between kisses to your hair. You shake your head quickly

“No-no. I don't want you to think-”

“Baby, I ain't gonna give you a hard time ‘cause you're missin’ home. Hell… my childhood weren’t nothin’ but a world of pain, and sometimes I miss it.”

You should have expected his understanding. Arthur's never made you feel foolish for your feelings. His hand traces along your hip, keeping you warm and coaxing you to settle back into the comfortable space that he’s surrounded you with.

“I’m finding it difficult.” You whisper, “The holidays are coming up, and they’re bringing lots of memories. Fond ones, things I don’t want to forget.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Well…” You crack a small smile, eyes going far away, back to old memories long ago, “Papá would have a Christmas tree shipped from Cumberland forest, only the best for him of course.” You chuckle, and Arthur smiles for the sweet sound.

“And we would decorate it with candles, blown glass, popcorn and cranberries. Oh, it was such a sight Arthur.” You say, a wonder in your voice. The memories are crystal clear in your head. Bright colors, laughter, songs.

Arthur's Christmas memories don't bring much joy. Except for the year his daddy didn't come home. Still, the way your eyes have lit up– Arthur wishes he could have experienced the Christmas that you're describing. He wishes he could see you with that much joy.

“Have you ever seen a Christmas tree?” You ask, rekindling that tether and pulling him back to you.

“Nah, only in the papers. I ain't never lived nowhere so fancy to have a Christmas tree.”

“It was so beautiful…” You whisper, a chill running down your spine. You hardly notice it, but Arthur pulls you closer nonetheless, his body heat wrapping around you like the warmest of blankets.

“It seemed as if when the tree was decorated and we all sat together, maybe it was not so bad.” You murmur, and the wonder dissipates from your eyes, replaced with reality.

Arthur waits for you to collect your thoughts. A whistle of wind breaks the silence before you do.

“Ah, I'm sorry for this show of emotion. It's silly of me.”

He shakes his head, forehead gently meeting yours. Your eyes marvel up at Arthur, making out the deep blue of his eyes from a stretch of moonlight that's infiltrated the room.

“You ain't ever gotta apologize for gettin’ emotional, sweetheart. Not with me.”

All you can do is nod, feeling again like a schoolgirl with butterflies running rampant in your stomach. His breath traces your face, noses just barely lining each other.

His lips meet yours, soft and sweet. Your heart soars like it does every time he kisses you. It's something that you're sure you won't ever get used to. But something you're hoping to find familiarity in, because you never want to stop kissing him.

He pulls away all too soon for your liking, placing a sweet kiss to your forehead. When he hears your small whine, he huffs.

“I know, get back to sleep baby, I'll still be here in the mornin’.”

It doesn't take long for you to slip back into slumber, not with the soft whisper of the wind, and the cocoon of warmth around you. Arthur practically carries you across the threshold into sleep with the way his arms wrap around you.

In the little tent, deep in the snow, Arthur begins to hatch his plan. He kisses your head, climbing over you and out of bed to light a candle. It provides just enough light to illuminate the pages of his journal. Just enough light for him to illustrate his surprise.

He had promised you– all those months ago, when he'd packed your bags onto his horse and ridden you out of the city– that he would do anything and everything to make you happy. It's a promise that he intends to keep

— — —

a few days later

“This is the one.” Arthur marvels, sparkling eyes cast upwards toward the fullest, greenest evergreen in Cumberland Forest. You deserve nothing but the best, and he’s sure that he’s found it.

Arthur takes a short moment to pull out his journal, dusting some fallen snow from the leather cover. He sketches the tree, a way for him to remember the moment. To remember how the tree had been, perfectly untouched in nature. He takes his time, back propped against the unhitched wagon in the forest, hat covered in a thick dusting of snow. A few flakes even drop onto the page, melting and smudging his charcoal.

When the branches are sketched to his liking, he accompanies them with a quick passage and closes the book.

For the lady. Christmas. 1899.

When the book snaps shut and is stuffed back into his journal, he looks up, finding a questioning look on his trusted stallion’s face.

“What?” Arthur’s brow furrows, “I’ll plant another one.”

The stallion sighs.

Arthur moves around the back of the wagon, pulling an ax from the toolbox, dusting some snow off the handle with gloved hands. The ground is covered in a thick layer of white, the horses too. They press their noses together, whinnying and rumbling, entertaining each other with horse-typical play in the snow.

“Jasper. Sugar. Quit bein’ sweet on one another, we got work to do.” Arthur calls back to the two horses. What a pair, those two.

Jasper is Arthur’s stallion. He’s well behaved. Shy. Obedient. Then there’s Sugar. She was a gift from Arthur to you. White as snow and wild as the wind. She still is, despite all of her training.

Arthur had brought the pair of them with the wagon to pull the tree back to camp. But now, Sugar seems more interested in kicking up snow, and well– Jasper is only interested in following Sugar around, hearts practically emitting from his eyes.

Snow falls in thick flakes, dotting Arthur’s red flannel and melting against the thick material. He pays it no mind. The snowfall silences the forest, save for the rhythmic whack…whack of Arthur’s ax hitting the evergreen, and the softened sound of playful hooves in the snow.

“Don’t tire yourselves out.” Arthur huffs to the horses, “Jesus.”

A few more swings of the ax, and the tree begins to fall. It hits the ground with a thud, not nearly as loud as Arthur imagined it would be. But, the snow softened the fall, he supposes.

In a matter of minutes, the tree is in the wagon. Just a few more, and Jasper and Sugar are pulling it home.

If everything is going according to plan, right now you should be with Marybeth, picking holly. She had taken you out, because she had “wanted to spruce up camp a bit.” Little do you know, the little adventure is a part of Arthur’s plan. With you away from camp, he was able to borrow Sugar, take Jasper, and get the tree. With you away from camp, the final touches can fall into place.

Arthur gently taps the reins over the horse’s backs, urging them into a faster canter along the beaten down snow path back towards camp.

“Hyah! C’mon, we’re pushin’ it.” He calls to the horses. The little golden bells on their harnesses jingle and ring as he pushes them towards camp, massive evergreen in tow. He checks his pocket watch, cursing quietly before putting it away. Sadie should be done by now.

It’s not long before the horses are pulling into camp, large puffs of white billowing out from their noses as they catch their breath. Arthur hops down from the wagon, his hand running along the expanse of it as he reaches the back.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Dutch’s voice booms from across the camp. He makes his way towards the wagon, “Now this is how we celebrate Christmas!”

The evergreen nearly overtakes the wagon, branches sticking out from all directions, billows of snow still stuck to them. Dutch has no idea how Arthur managed to get it into the wagon. An approaching Hosea is just as flabbergasted.

“You know, I never took you to be much of a romantic, Arthur. But this might just prove me wrong.” Hosea

“Whatever you say. Now, quit gawkin’ and help me get this big bastard up.” Arthur mumbles, grabbing the thick tree by the trunk and pulling it down. Sap sticks to his hands as he begins to drag it out of the wagon. Carrying it into the center of camp is a group effort– much easier than Arthur getting it into the wagon by himself.

“I reckon you two can handle this. I got some other things to check up on.” Arthur steps back, sizing the tree up and down.

“Run along then and leave us the hard work.” Dutch muses, within earshot of Arthur.

“Figured it would do your old bones some good to do real work, Dutch!” Arthur hollers back over his shoulder, chuckling to himself as he makes his way towards the circle of tents.

“Mrs. Adler?” Arthur hollers, approaching the A-frame tent, “You in there?”

Before he can part the white canvas tent, Sadie emerges, and he backs up.

“You get it done?” Arthur asks, cheeks tinged bright pink from the cold. Hat white instead of black. Sadie chuckles for it.

“Did I get it done?” Sadie mocks with a huff, “A’ course I got it done.”

From her tent, she pulls out a Christmas tree garland. A string carefully woven through dried cranberries and popped corn. It's beautiful and long. It must have taken her hours to make. Arthur’s eyes go wide in small wonder as she transfers the garland to him.

“S’perfect, Sadie. She’s gonna love this.”

A wide, bittersweet smile stretches across Sadie’s face, “Jake taught me how,” there is a pause as Arthur nods in understanding, “Now go. Go decorate it for your woman.” Sadie smirks.

“Dear boy! Dear boy, how does it look?” Hosea calls out, and Arthur’s attention shoots towards the tree. They have it standing upright now, perfectly in the center of camp. It stands tall, a real beauty.

“Perfect.” He gapes at it, wishing he could have done something like this when he was younger– hoping that it will live up to your memories. Arthur doesn’t have the money to buy fancy ornaments, but he’s doing everything in his power to make it special for you.

With the help of the horses and the wagon, everyone manages to wrap the garland the whole way around the tree, even up to the top. The little trail of white and red looks beautiful against the dark green of the pine. Arthur places lit candles in holders on the branches, casting a beautiful hazy glow that lights up the tree. Camp members begin to gather, circling around the tree, watching and helping. Mrs. Grimshaw offers some holly. Karen offers some candy canes that she had bought in town, hanging them from the branches.

The sun begins to set, and Arthur checks his watch, knowing that you’ll be back any minute. A small tug on his pants pulls his attention downwards.

“Uncle Arthur?” Little Jack whispers, eyes sparkling with the reflection of the tree lights, “I made this for you! For you to put it on auntie's tree!”

Arthur’s brow furrows, and he glances quickly up to Abigail, who is smiling warmly. Jack reaches into his little bag and pulls out a beautiful paper star. He has apparently put a lot of time and effort into folding and cutting the paper into a perfect little topper. Jack’s little hands extend the star up to Arthur, the smile on his face brighter than any of the tree’s candles.

“You made this?” Arthur asks.

“Yep, I sure did! Momma even helped me cut the paper!”

Arthur kneels on the ground– eye level with Jack, a smirk on his lips, “I think we better put it on the top then, don't you?”

“Oh yes! It would be perfect on top! I just hope aunt y/n likes it…”

“She’ll love this, buddy.”

With some more help from a very grumpy Sugar, Arthur manages to place the star perfectly on the tree top. And just in time, apparently.

When Arthur steps back, taking in the tree for all its glory, his jaw falls slack, eyes filling up with wonder.

It's beautiful. At dusk, the candles shine brightly. The garland has attracted a few red cardinals, and they rest in the branches, comfortable in the new camp tree. Everyone looks in awe. It’s perfect.

— — —

“No peekin’.” Arthur whispers in your ear from behind, his hands covering your eyes. He slowly walks you forwards towards… something. He hasn’t explained anything to you, just… kidnapped you right outside of camp. You’ve been walking with him, eyes covered for nearly five minutes.

“Oh, Arthur, what is going on!?” You giggle, hands covering the length of his own, a smile plastered on your face.

“S’a surprise, darlin’. That’s why you can’t peek.” Arthur’s voice whispers from behind you, his chest nearly pressed against your back as he inches you forward.

You roll your eyes. Suddenly, his footsteps are still behind you, and you stop in return.

“Is this why I was stuck in the forest picking berries all day?” You ask. Arthur huffs.

“Shhh. We’re here.” He shushes.

Your heart quickens with excitement, bottom lip tight between your teeth with anticipation. As much as you try to listen for any clues, all you can hear is the munching of hay and the crackle of the campfire– typical for camp after dusk.

“Arthur…?” You whisper, almost afraid to break the quiet. Anticipation swirls in your stomach, followed by anxiety tickling up your spine.

His calloused hands pull away from your eyes, and your lashes flutter as you focus on the sight in front of you.

It’s… a christmas tree. Your jaw falls slack, and as unladylike as it may be, you can’t help it. A small gasp escapes your rosy lips.

It must be twelve feet high, and it's thick with branches. Candles, and decor wrap around the tree like a dress tailored to perfection. Color and light burst from the beautiful tree, and before you can control yourself, tears are welling up in your eyes.

“Arthur, I–” Your voice cracks, the tears almost spilling over.

“Darlin’?” Arthur’s thumb softly brushes the inside of your hand. For a moment, he worries that he’s misstepped terribly. The sight of your tears brings forth a small panic, quelled by the outburst of your smile. Tears fall freely from your eyes, but they are of joy– not sadness.

“You got me– You got me a Christmas tree?” You smile, wiping away the tears as he envelopes you into his warm arms. You sniffle, laughs of pure joy escaping into his chest as he holds you tight.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Arthur whispers to you, arms wrapped around your waist. The light from the tree dances in your eyes, almost as beautiful and bright as your smile.

“Oh, Arthur, it’s perfect.” You gasp, eyes glued to the tree, pulling away to glance into Arthur’s eyes, “How ever did you get it here?”

“With a little help.” Arthur nods towards the horse station where Sugar and Jasper are laying in the hay, nuzzling each other sweetly. As if knowing, Sugar whinnies towards you softly, followed by a quiet neigh from Jasper.

Your eyes wander back towards the tree in front of you, and then to Arthur once again. His hands slide down from your waist, thumbs settling into the dimples in your back.

“It's beautiful.” You say.

“It’s all yours.”

In all of your life, Arthur has been the first person to cater to your emotions– to care about them. Your heart fills with love, so much that it overflows and floods the earth at your feet. Soaking into the ground of the camp, touching the hearts of the others around you.

“I love you.” You whisper, head resting on Arthur’s chest, eyes fixed on a cardinal that’s pecking at the popped corn on the tree.

“I-” Arthur pauses, realizing. His brow furrows, eyes flickering down, “Wait, what?”

“I said I love you.” You reiterate, chin propped on his chest to look up at him. Arthur looks nearly blown away by the words. Words he’s not heard from you yet. Words that he’s nearly let slip time and again over the past few months.

Arthur’s lips crack into a smile, crows feet wrinkling for the action. His thumb brushes your cheek before trailing down to your chin, pulling you in towards his lips. You lean on your tiptoes, brushing your lips against his, meeting him with all the love and joy that you never thought would be possible for you. He’s taken you from a bad situation, and given you everything you could have wanted and more. Your lips press against his, pink-tinged noses lining each other. Your eyes flutter shut, snowflakes catching in your thick lashes as you deepen the kiss. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the base of his neck, your tongues dance with one another.

When you pull away to breathe, your eyes lock with his, sparkling with light.

“I love you too.” He smirks, hands wrapping under your thighs, eliciting giggles from you as he hoists you into his arms. Fat snowflakes fall into your hair as Arthur turns towards your tent, ready to carry you to bed.

“No- wait!” You grip his arm, stopping him in his tracks, “Please, Arthur- just five more minutes. I’d like to keep looking at the tree.”

Arthur pauses, brushing your cold cheek, “Alright. Five more minutes.” He smiles, pressing a sweet kiss to your hair.

The tree shines bright as ever, as if god had sprinkled stardust down from the heavens, painting your tree in beautiful white light.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola

#divider by cafekitsune #cowboydisaster's christmas countdown #bea's christmas countdown #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan fluff

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harrysfolklore · 1 year

Note

Maia Mitchell would be a good Australian fc

insta blurbs are back !!! i really really hope you like this <3

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ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

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harryfan1 OMFG THAT WAS SO ICONIC

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↳ ynfan2 ICONIC

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yourinstagram the horses is a song that my dad always sang for me when she i was a kid, now the love of my life is singing it in my home country, it’s safe to say that i can’t stop crying about it.

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harrystyles Love On Tour. Sydney II. March, 2023.

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harryfan1 MY HEARTTT

ynfan1 icon

annetwist ❤️

yourinstagram my besties actually

↳ harrystyles He’s MY bestie x

↳ harryfan2 I CAAAANT

jefezoff 🥹

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tarotenvelhecida · 1 year

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pick a card– which book speaks to your soul?

You read something which you thought only happened to you, and you discover that it happened 100 years ago to Dostoyevsky. This is a very great liberation for the suffering, struggling person, who always thinks that he is alone. This is why art is important.

—Conversations with James Baldwin.

this is my love letter to all the bookworms in the tarot community— pick a pile & i'll give you a list of genres + book suggestions carrying important messages to you.

I. THE FIRST

To the daydreamers and the escapists; to the ones that need to rest before following what you need follow.

RELEVANT GENRES & CONCEPTS– fiction in general; romance; fantasy; fairytale; poetry; ‘happy ever after’ endings; hopeful endings; fantasy; magic; dreamy.

AUTHORS – Ursula K. Le Guin; Louise Gluck; Mary Oliver; Jane Austen.

BOOKS FOR YOU–

‘The Paper Garden: An Artist Begins Her Life’s Work at 72 – Molly Peacock'

‘Good Bones – Maggie Smith’

‘If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho – Translation by Anne Carson’

‘Owls and Other Fantasies – Mary Oliver’

‘Dog Songs – Mary Oliver’

‘Emma – Jane Austen’

‘Howl’s Moving Castle – Diana Wynne Jones’

‘The Little Prince – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’

‘Death Comes for the Archbishop – Willa Cather’

‘Sonnets from the Portuguese – Elizabeth Barrett Browning’

‘The Hawk and the Dove – Penelope Wilcock’

‘The Secret Life of the Lonely Doll: The Search for Dare Wright’

‘The Ink Dark Moon – Ono no Komachi & Izumi Shikibu’

‘Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll’

‘The Letters of Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf’

‘Little Women – Louisa May Alcott’

‘Anne of Green Gables – L.M. Montgomery’

‘Kissing the Witch: Old Tales in New Skins – Emma Donoghue’

II. THE SECOND

For the ones that carry the ache to learn and know everything; to the ones bored with life's commodities & seriousness. For the ones that question everything around them – as they should do.

You do not need to fit in. Don't change yourself for other people. If they want to see you this way, then become the proud witch in the edge of the woods.

RELEVANT GENRES & CONCEPTS– books on 'niche' knowledge; science; philosophy; true crime; drama; scandalous romances; adventure, magical realism; YA thriller & horror; comedy & sardonic comedy; ‘controversial’/'weird' books.

AUTHORS– Carmen Maria Machado, Kate Moore, Grady Hendrix.

BOOKS FOR YOU–

‘My Sister, The Serial Killer – Oyinkan Braithwaite'

‘The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales – Oliver Sacks'

‘St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves – Karen Russell'

‘Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife – Mary Roach’

‘The Hitchhiker Guide to Galaxy – Douglas Adams'

‘Inferno – Dante Alighieri'

'Magic for Beginners – Kelly Link'

‘Lace Bone Beast: Poems & Other Fairytales for Wicked Girls – N.L. Shompole'

‘Severed: A History of Heads Lost and Heads Found – Frances Larson’

'The Woman They Could Not Silence – Kate Moore'

‘The Dictionary of Lost Words – Pip Williams'

‘She Kills Me: The True Stories of History’s Deadliest Women – Jennifer Wright’

‘Anatomy: A Love Story – Dana Schwartz'

‘Pretty Dead Queens – Alexa Donne'

‘I’m Glad My Mom Died – Jennette McCurdy'

'Rabid: A Cultural History of the World's Most Diabolical Virus – Bill Wasik'

‘Chilling Adventures of Sabrina – Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa’

III. THE THIRD

You need to put your sadness somewhere. If you can't, remember that someone has done it before – and transformed it into a story. Let the words you'll read be the resting place for whatever you're feeling right now; let yourself remember that not even your pain is lonely in this world.

RELEVANT GENRES AND CONCEPTS— poetry; gothic horror; thrillers; murder mysteries; tragedies; cathartic stories; biographies.

AUTHORS– Shirley Jackson, Osamu Dazai, Clarice Lispector, Sylvia Plath.

BOOKS FOR YOU—

'The Year of Magical Thinking – Joan Didion'

‘The Dead – James Joyce'

‘What The Living Do – Marie Howe'

‘The Hour of the Star – Clarice Lispector'

‘Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector’

‘Some of Us Did Not Die – June Jordan'

Somewhere Towards the End – Diana Athill'

‘We Have Always Lived in The Castle – Shirley Jackson'

'Heaven: A Novel – Mieko Kawakami'

'Journal of a Solitude – May Sarton'

'Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte'

'Grief is the Thing with Feathers – Max Porter'

‘Carrie – Stephen King'

'Of Dogs and Walls – Yuko Tsushima'

'Frankenstein – Mary Shelley'

'The Stepping Off Place – Cameron Kelly'

'Letters to Milena – Franz Kafka'

‘Beloved – Toni Morrison'

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dabiconcordia · 5 months

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After Harvest

Faint is the speech of the tired heart To the call of dreams replying, When hope wends home across the fields Where the rose o' the year is dying. O weary head and heart and hands Look up where the sun is dying — Love leads you home across the fields To the call of dreams replying. by William Stanley Braithwaite

#william stanley braithwaite #famous poems #gif #elasina #pinterest.com

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wren-125 · 4 months

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I feel like some Red Dead fans don’t understand that Hosea isn’t soft. Not only is he in an outlaw gang, but people act like he’s a sweet old grandpa - he’s not. Did you see how aggressive he can be even compared to Dutch in the Braithwaite mission to get Jack home? Why do people mischaracterize him so badly?

#hosea matthews #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption

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strrwbrrryjam · 5 months

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thinking of charles smith for too long makes me so sad.

i mean, from what we know of charles' past, he's had a ridiculously hard time of it, he n his father with his mothers tribe being driven away by the us army, his mother being captured by soldiers a few years after, his father becoming an alcoholic from the grief n charles leaving to survive by himself from the young age of 13.

from what we know, charles hasn't had a place to call home, in a long, long time. a stable home, filled with love. not one that he can remember clearly, not since he was very young. throughout his whole life, it's likely that the only company that he has had, that he can truly connect with, was his horse. he's likely spent most of his young life in solitude, never finding a place to settle down, never finding a place he can live comfortably, without judgement. where he is welcomed with open arms.

and when he's 26-27 years old, he, supposedly, finds it, in the van der linde gang. he finds a home that, while not exactly stable, is filled with love. he's found a place where he thinks he can see himself settling down, a place where he can be comfortable. we see him make relationships (some of them closer than others), we see him happy, we see him opening up about his past and his feelings, and we see him get comfortable. he has coffee with the girls, he eats food with uncle, he fixes the wagon with john, he sits around the fire to share n listen to stories. he's quiet, yes, but from what i can tell, he's.. comfortable, and happy.

and yet, this home comes with cracks n with the help of the pinkertons, the o'driscolls, the grays nthe braithwaites n finally, with micah bell n dutch van der linde, these cracks become larger, and larger, and large, till there is no home left for him no more.

he travels with the waipiti tribe for a while, helps n protects them on their way to canada, and then.. well, he's alone. again. left with his horse as his only company.

but with a new type of grief to accompany him, because, this time, he's old enough to remember.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 charles smith #charles smith #strawberry speaks

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zanazirafanfic · 3 months

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WIP Whenever

I thought I posted this a few days ago, but I apparently forgot. Woops. 😅 I pushed all of my fics back for a week so I could take a little break, get myself reorganized, and make sure my plots were headed where I wanted them to (in regards to 25DCC especially.) Plus, I finally got a chance to start RDR1, and it's been amazing!

Anyway, here is the tentative list of what I'm working on for the next week or so. Everything is listed by planned date of publication. :)

2/15/24 - "Ruffling A Few Feathers" - Arthur has fun teasing Catboy!Micah using a treasure found during his travels. But as with everything in his life, there are unintended consequences.

2/16/24 - 25DCC, Ch.12 - "Tucking Them In" - 1910. Kieran comes home to Mary-Beth and their children after a long journey.

2/17/24 - Whumpcember Day 12 - "Touch-Starved" - Karen Jones grieves Sean's passing once the dust finally settles after the Braithwaite raid. H/C feat. Arthur Morgan.

2/20/24 - 25DCC, Ch. 13 - "Getting Anxious for Christmas" - 1910. John and Abigail receive a letter from Dutch and Hosea, and John makes a trip to Lone Wolf Stead to share it with his brothers. Once there he finds Arthur sick and being a terrible patient, and steps in to help before Charles finally decides to murder his husband.

2/21/24 - Whumpcember Day 13 - "Restraints" + Alt "Collapse" - The boys free Sean from Ike Skelding's band of bounty hunters. Unfortunately, he's in a little rougher shape than they thought.

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mollywall-e · 3 months

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Stunning Illustration by @atleastweasel for Chapter Four of Take Me Home (Imodna Red Dead AU)

“On this, the thirtieth day of September, on felony charges of trespassing, arson, and assaulting an officer of the law,” Sheriff Gray starts. Imogen snakes an arm behind her back, fingers curling around the handle of the sawed-off shotgun she’s kept in her waistband all day. The deputy releases his hold on Laudna, who nearly collapses, and starts shuffling toward a lever. Imogen clicks back the hammer. “…The state of Lemoyne sentences you, Matilda Johanna Braithwaite, to death.”

As the sheriff passes his sentence, Imogen pulls the trigger.

#imodna #imodna fic #my fic #critical role #imogen x laudna #imodna red dead au #critical role fanfiction

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sednonamoris · 2 years

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ghost story

known by law enforcement, civilians, and outlaws alike as ‘the ghost rider of new austin’, you join up with the van der linde gang in your youth. so begins a long and complicated history.

ch. 1 cloudburst

shot by a bounty hunter and left for dead, you’re saved by an unlikely pair in the dead of night.

ch. 2 gift horse

now healed, you plan out the job that will fulfill your life debt to these van der linde boys. what else would it be but stealing horses?

ch. 3 daddy’s got a gun

a job gone wrong, and a journey home gone worse.

ch. 4 drowning lessons

the hottest day of summer launches your friendship with john off the deep end.

ch. 5 raise a little hell

you, john, and arthur go out on the town after a successful score. of course you couldn’t leave it at just one drink.

ch. 6 american dreams

need, morality, and family are difficult to conceptualize in a life defined by crime, and your vision of the world has been shaped almost entirely by the van der linde gang.

ch. 7 stormchaser

abigail roberts joins the gang. your relationship with john is changed, maybe forever.

ch. 8 dear john

a year’s worth of letters, never sent.

ch. 9 hang ‘em high

a high stakes bank robbery forces you and john to confront exactly how close - and how far - you are from one another anymore.

ch. 10 a dark alley and a bad idea

after an argument with abigail, john goes into town to drink his worries away. as always you follow, and as always there's trouble - seems like you bring it with you wherever you go.

ch. 11 sold down the river

the blackwater massacre, and the aftermath.

ch. 12 teeth

john never returns from his scouting trip. you, arthur, and javier seek him out through the snow.

ch. 13 through the valley and the vale

once dutch gets a train robbery out of his system and the snowmelt starts, the van der linde gang makes its way to horsehsoe overlook.

ch. 14 pony up

john and abigail continue to argue. you and jack are both stuck in the middle, so you make the best of it by teaching him to ride.

ch. 15 act the maggot

sean is rescued, and the gang celebrates his return the only way they know how - drinks all around.

ch. 16 life ain’t fair and the world is mean

arthur’s decision after meeting with mary linton again leaves you caught between a rock and a hard place.

ch. 17 once bitten

john and abigail’s relationship continues to deteriorate as arthur begins a clumsy courtship. you and john run off hunting to get away from it all, but things don’t exactly go to plan.

ch. 18 come all ye sinners

driven from camp in the aftershocks of an earth-shattering shift in john and abigail’s relationship, you find yourself in an unlikely situation with and even more unlikely friend. is there a way forward?

ch. 19 oil on troubled water

tensions are high between john and arthur. will collaborating on a train robbery bring them closer or tear them farther apart?

ch. 20 blood of the covenant

arthur and abigail make a promise. you and john have a chance to find out what that means for you, if you’re brave enough.

ch. 21 good, honest thieves

a fight with micah leads to a lecture from dutch. loyalty is exactly what you've been raised on, but to what? to whom? the answer seems to be john every time.

ch. 22 unbridled

a theft gone right and a deal gone wrong.

ch. 23 thunderstruck

a storm brews over your journey with john to meet an old friend and make a profit on the braithwaite horses. what will happen when lightning strikes?

ch. 24 working for the knife

you and john return to camp, where an unexpected crisis awaits.

ch. 25 arsonist’s lullaby

with sean dead and the confederate gold nowhere to be found, the braithwaites learn exactly why boys are off limits.

ch. 26 water of the womb

[coming soon]

#masterlist #ghost story #john marston x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr x reader #fran writes

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sweetiepeteypie · 1 month

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peteys + aesthetics 💕✨

#character: albert campion #source: campion #character: fifth doctor #source: doctor who #character: david braithwaite #source: at home with the braithwaites #character: dc davies #source: the last detective #character: stephen claithorne #source: jonathans creek #character: henry christmas #source: mrs bradley mysteries #character: gavin purcell #source: probe #character: lance fortescue #source: miss marple

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morbidology · 1 year

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Nine-year-old Ebony Simpson from Bargo, New South Wales, Australia, always dreamed of becoming a police officer. She loved cooking and singing along to Daryl Braithwaite. She lived at home with her parents and her 15-year-old brother, Zachary.

On the 19th of August, 1992, Ebony got off her school bus and started to walk home. Typically, Ebony's mother, Christine, would meet her at the bust stop but on this day, she was too busy. Instead, Christine asked Zachary to meet her after he got off his own bus from school. That day, however, his bus was late and when Ebony hopped off the bus, there was nobody there waiting for her. She decided to walk home alone.

As Ebony was approaching her home, she noticed a car at the side of the road that appeared to be broken down. She walked towards the car and was grabbed by the driver, Andrew Peter Garforth, and thrown into the trunk. Ebony was literally feet from her front door. Garforth drove Ebony to a remote dam. Once there, he bound the terrified girl with wire and sexually assaulted her. Afterwards, he filled her pink backpack with rocks and threw her into the dam.

After reporting Ebony missing, it took police 48 hours to find her body. Police soon zoned in on Garforth who had participated in the search for Ebony, knowing all too well where she was. After his arrest, he readily confessed and showed not one shred of remorse. He told police that after throwing her into the dam, he heard her calling for help. He turned around and saw that she was on her back, struggling to get to the bank. When asked what he did, he replied: “I walked away.”

During his trial, Justice Newman noted that drowning “is a terrifying and slow manner of death,” adding that Ebony’s “last moments must have been spent in abject fear.” Garforth was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison.

#Ebony Simpson #true crime

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grandmaster-anne · 1 year

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22 February 2023 This morning, His Royal Highness the Earl of Wessex visited the Cayman Islands Coast Guard Base on his final day in Cayman. Upon arrival, he was met by the Hon. Minister Sabrina Turner from the Ministry of Home Affairs and Colonel Errol Braithwaite of the Cayman Islands Cadet Corps. The Earl received a Royal Salute from a detachment of Cadets, which He was invited to inspect. Following the Royal Salute and inspection, I joined the Earl to observe a demonstration of the Cayman Islands Regiment’s operational capability in humanitarian support and disaster relief. Acting Commanding Officer of the Regiment, Major Tim Howard, set out the Regiment’s capabilities and demonstrated the Regiment’s water purification system and remote field kitchen, sampling some of the food that could be prepared for hundreds during a national emergency. HRH also met members of the Regiment. Commander Robert Scotland, the Commandant of the Coast Guard, escorted His Royal Highness on a short tour of the Coast Guard vessels and operations centre, where the Earl was able to observe the excellent progress made by the Coast Guard in recent years to enhance its maritime, rescue and interdiction capabilities. We have made great strides in recent years enhancing our resilience and response mechanisms for natural disasters in Cayman and regionally and our law enforcement capabilities. We were able to showcase the progress we have made to HRH. — HE The Governor - Cayman Islands

#earl of wessex #wessex in cayman

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layce2015 · 2 years

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Red Dead Redemption 2 (Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader)

A Tempting Offer

Masterlist / Next Chapter

Several days had past since Arthur and his family arrived in Valentine. Arthur had done some bounty hunting for the Sheriff and (y/n) did some odd jobs, helping with the general store or becoming a waitress at the local bar, while the kids either stayed at the hotel or hung around wherever (y/n) was working.

Eventually, they decided to move on to a different town, mainly cause the Sheriff ran out of bounties to capture. They packed up their stuff, loaded the wagon on the horse and headed off and towards Rhodes.

"You know...I'm gonna miss it here. I forgot how nice this town was." (Y/n) told Arthur as they made their way the valley. "Better than a city..." Arthur mutters. "True...not really looking forward to Saint Denis." (Y/n) said.

"Are we going to find a home?" Annebeth asked them. "Well, like we've said, sweetheart, we're trying to save money to get a home." (Y/n) replied to her. "And how long will that take?" Annebeth asked, a bit impatient. "We're not to far from getting the full money." Arthur said and Annebeth frowns a bit.

"Annebeth?" (Y/n) said to her, questioning, and Annebeth shakes her head. "Sorry, ma and pa, I'm just...I just want to stay in one place instead of always running, that's all." She replied, truthfully, and (y/n) and Arthur share a look before (y/n) turns to Annebeth.

"I assure you, Annebeth, we feel the same way but...it is something we have to endure for now. We'll get there, eventually." (Y/n) said and Annebeth nods before she goes back to her book while the two youngest children looked between Annebeth and their parents before they settled on playing with Dixon.

It was late afternoon when the family make it to Rhodes, which looked like it hadn't changed much. Course the only thing that was different was that the Grays and the Braithwaite's were no longer around as Dutch, Arthur and many others made sure they were all gone. Except for Beau and Penelope, they were the only ones that had survived. Penelope had written to Arthur a few days after the fallout with the gang and asked for his help to get her and Beau out of Rhodes.

Against his better judgment, Arthur went back and helped them escape where they got on a train and made their way north.

Once Arthur pulls the wagon into town, he climbs down off of it. "I'll go see if there's any jobs for me to do." He tells (y/n), who nods. "Okay, I'll go get us a room and find myself a job." (Y/n) said. He leans down to her and gives a kiss before he heads over to the Sheriff's office.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" The gentleman at the bar asked (y/n) as she walked up to him. "I'm needing a couple of rooms, please." She said and the man nods as he starts to ring her up for two rooms. As (y/n) hands him the money, she felt eyes on her, an unwelcoming one. She turns her head a bit and sees a man, a bit younger than her, watching her.

She ignores it as the bartender hands her a couple of keys for the room. "Thank you. Um...I was wondering, do you have any jobs?" (Y/n) asked the bartender, who seemed surprised by her question. "It's just we lost our home in a fire and we're just rebuilding some money to get a new place. I'm willing to do whatever jobs you throw at me." (Y/n) said as the bartender looks her over.

"Well...lucky for you, ma'am, I'm needing a waitress. You can start tonight." He said and (y/n) smiles with relief. "Thank you, sir." She said as he hands her the keys to the rooms and she calls out to her children. Then she leads them to the room.

That night, (y/n) was passing out food and drinks to the patrons with ease but she couldn't help but feel that someone was watching her. She looks over her shoulder a few times to see that same man from earlier still staring at her. But she does her best to ignore him.

And she mentally tells herself to just do her job and smile at the costumers so she doesn’t lose her job on her first day. Even if some costumers are rude or creepy.

She was cleaning a table when she felt hands on her shoulder. She freezes at this when a voice whispers. "Hey there, beautiful." A chill ran up (y/n)'s spine at this and she turns around to see the creepy man standing behind her. "Uh...can I help you, sir?" She asked, trying to keep calm.

"I've never seen you here before. Where have you been hiding?" The man said, flirtatiously, and (y/n) could smell the whiskey on his breath. "Around." (Y/n) replied, plainly, as she makes her way around the guy. "Well...I saw you come in earlier with all them kids by yourself, that's alot for a momma to deal with. Seems like they need a daddy." The man said as he follows her while she gathers up some plates.

"They already have a father, thank you." (Y/n) said, not looking at him, as she continues on with her job. "Can't be a good man if he's leaving you with three kids on your own then." The man said as he walks up next to (y/n), who stops and stares at him. "If I was him, I'd never leave your side, darlin'." He continues while (y/n) gives him a disgusted look.

"Look, maybe you and me could meet up later tonight? I can show you a good time." He said. "Sir, I'm spoken for with the father of my children and he treats them right." She said, firmly, then she leans closer to the man and whispers. "He also satisfies me in bed." Then she pulls away from him and was about to walk away but the man smacks the tray of dishes out of her hands then grabs her arm.

"You listen here, you little bitch!" The man growls but then another voice shouts out. "Hey!" Then the man was pulled away and (y/n) saw a familiar face standing by her side as he glares at the man.

"Bartholomew, you apologize to this lady, right now!" He said. "Why the hell do you care, Oliver?!" Bartholomew asked Oliver, angrily. "This lady is a cousin of mine, so unless you wanna keep your job, Bartholomew, I suggest you apologize to her." Oliver said, firmly, and Bartholomew looks a bit taken aback by this. "Sorry, Oliver, didn't know she was a relative." He said then he turns to (y/n).

"Ma'am, please accept my apologies." He said and (y/n) nods, reluctantly, at him. "It's okay." She mutters and Bartholomew nods then walks away. Oliver glares after him and looks around the room and the people turn back to what they were doing then Oliver relaxes as he turns to (y/n). "You okay, (y/n)?" He asked her, worried. "Yeah...thank you, Oliver." She said, appreciatively.

“No problem.” He says. "Who was he?" (Y/n) asked. "Oh, just a guy who works for me. He's a fool but...he is a good worker." Oliver said then he looks at her with a curious and confused gaze. “Anyways, what are you doing here?" Oliver asked her as he takes her aside where there wouldn't be anyone to overhear their conversation. "You're still not with that gang, are you?" He asked her, concerned. "No...that gang is done. Everything went south sometime after our last meeting and everyone just left." (Y/n) replied.

"So you still with that feller? Mr Morgan, I believe." Oliver asked and (y/n) nods. "He's out doing jobs, we're trying to save money to get a home for our family." She replied. Oliver nodded with understanding, looking at her sympathetically “I’m sorry to hear. Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks her.

"No...we got it, Oliver. I don't want to give you some trouble." (Y/n) said, shaking her head. "No, no trouble at all. I still owe you for what you did for me with my father. Also, I feel like I should make up for not being there for Annebeth." Oliver said and (y/n) gives him a look. "Oliver...." she said, softly, then they hear footsteps and they look over to see Arthur walking in.

He turns and smiles when he sees (y/n) but it disappears when he sees Oliver next to her. "What the hell's going on?" Arthur asked as he walks up to them. "Oliver just saved me from a drunk bastard." (Y/n) said as Arthur eyes Oliver before he turns to (y/n) and walks over to her and places his hands on her shoulder.

"You okay?" He asked her and she nods. "(Y/n), here tells me that you are looking for a home." Oliver said and Arthur looks at him. "And what concern is that of yours?" Arthur asked while (y/n) looks down at the broken dishes on the floor. "I'll let you gentlemen talk it over. I gotta get back to work." (Y/n) said and she goes to clean up the mess Bartholomew made and Oliver gestures to an empty table.

Arthur nods, slightly, and the two men go and sit at the table. "Look, I know you don't like me, Mr Morgan. I understand. What I did to (y/n) and Annebeth is inexcusable and I will admit I was a coward. I regret it everyday." Oliver said as Arthur gives him a stern look. "And I thought I could help you two out and get a home. I have a partnership with a gentleman that runs a lumberyard and....We've been having problems with robbery and some wolves attack. I could use a man like you to help out with those problems." Oliver said.

"In exchange?" Arthur asked. "I'll pay you and I'll have some of my men build you a home." Oliver said and Arthur thinks this over. “I know we’re not keen to see eye to eye, but I am sincerely regretful of my actions. It’s not much to earn forgiveness, a second chance, or change what happened, but the least I can do for now is make amends for the trouble I have caused, especially to her.” Oliver said. “I cannot blame you for being cautious around me. I know I won’t have a chance to be a father I was too cowardice to be, but I hope this offer makes it up for (Y/n) and Annebeth’s sake, even if it means I’m no longer part of their life. I do hope we can become good acquaintances as time goes by.”

Arthur sits and thinks for a moment. The offer is very tempting and it would help him and his family out alot. But he wasn't for sure how (y/n) would feel about this, that was his biggest concern.

"I may not like you for what you did to (y/n) and Annebeth. Especially Annebeth who didn't deserve to lose her father..." Arthur said and Oliver frowns and looks down, guilty. "I mean, I've been more of a father to her and she's not even my own!" Arthur growled and he sits in silence for a moment then let's out a sigh.

"But...you offering a home to us would help get rid of this burden on us. We could finally provide a home for our kids." Arthur said and this makes Oliver raise his head. "Kids?" He asked, confused but also curious. "Annebeth and then my son, Alistair, and my daughter, Eleanor." Arthur said and Oliver gives a small smile. "Congratulations." He said and Arthur nods.

There was another moment of silence before Oliver speaks up. "Sooo...will you accept my offer, Mr Morgan?" He asked. "I feel like I should ask (y/n) about this first." Arthur said and Oliver nods. "Of course! I'll come by here tomorrow morning and you can give me your answer then, okay?" Oliver said and Arthur nods in agreement.

Later that night, Arthur was walking up to a room with the kids and opens the door, quietly. There he could see the two youngest children sitting on the bed, side by side, on one end while Annebeth was sitting on the other side in front of them. Alistair and Eleanor seemed to be enraptured by the story Annebeth was telling them, Arthur leans against the doorframe and listens.

"But the evil sorcerer had captured the beautiful princess and took her to his castle, which upset the prince who was set to marry her. The prince asked his father to save her but the King refused, said it was too dangerous." Annebeth said as her siblings keep their eyes on her while Arthur smiles and folds his arms across his chest.

He watches this for a few minutes as Annebeth continues with the story. But as Arthur listens, he realizes that Annebeth was actually telling her siblings how he had to go save their mother from Milton, with of course some changes to make it sound fantastical.

"And so the prince and his Knight friend were able to take down the Sorcerer and saved the princess! The Prince and the Princess reunited, went back home and got married and they lived happily, ever, after." Annebeth concludes and Alistair and Eleanor both clap at this. "That was pretty good, Annebeth." Arthur said and the kids turn to him, smiling. "Thanks, daddy." Annebeth said, giving an embarrassed smile. "Unfortunately, I think it's time for bed, you three." Arthur tells his kids.

"Yes, sir." The kids said as they start to get up and situated in bed. Arthur walks in the room and starts to tuck them in. "Goodnight, kids." Arthur said then he heads towards the door. "Goodnight, pa." The three kids said and Arthur turns to them and smiles before he walks out of the room.

As he shuts the door, (y/n) walks up to him. "Hey, how are the kids?" She asked him. "They're alright. Just put them to sleep." said Arthur and (y/n) gives him a tired smile. "Good." She said with a sigh and Arthur leans down and gives her a loving kiss.

"So what did Oliver want?" She asked him as they break the kiss. Arthur looks her over for a moment then let's out a sigh. "We need to talk." He said and she nods and she leads him to their room. Once inside the room, Arthur explains Oliver's offer.

“It’s not a life risking job, is it?” she asked him once he finished explaining what Oliver wanted. "Not anymore life risking than what I'm doing now." Arthur said and (y/n) sighs and thinks. “We’re coming close to having a home, aren’t we? If you do this?” (y/n) asked him and he nods. "He's offered not only pay me but he's also gonna have some of his people help build us a home." Arthur said. “That’s nice of him to do that.” (y/n) said then she looks down.

"But I wanted to talk to you about it. I think it is a decent offer and he seems genuine about it." Arthur said and (y/n) looks up at him, seemingly surprised about this. "Really?" She said and he nods. "Just...I'm kinda surprised by all this." (Y/n) said and she paces across the room a bit.

"Whatcha thinking?" Arthur asked her then she stops in her tracks. "Well...if you're sure about this, Arthur...I think we should accept it. I mean, we really do need a home and Oliver seems remorseful for what he did to me. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to take that opportunity that’ll happen once in a lifetime. But it is up to you, Arthur." (Y/n) said as Arthur contemplates this.

The next morning, Arthur and (y/n) walk into the saloon area of the motel and see Oliver walking in at the same time. He looks over, smiles and waves at them as they walk up to him. "Good timing." Oliver said. "So...have you two talked about it?"

"We have..." Arthur said as he looks over at (y/n). "So...will you help me, Mr Morgan? Help me and I will help you. You have my word." Oliver said and he holds a hand out to Arthur. The former outlaw looks at his hand for a moment, then to (y/n) who nods, before he goes and takes Oliver's hand and shakes it.

"Excellent! I think this calls for a celebration!" Oliver said and the two men stop shaking hands and head to the bar where Oliver orders three drinks. Once he was handed the drinks, Oliver hands one to Arthur and one to (y/n) and raises his glass.

"To new beginnings!" Oliver said and the couple raise their glasses as well, clink their glasses together and drank from it. (Y/n) couldn't help but feel like there was a huge weight that was lifted off of their shoulders. Finally, they were getting what her and Arthur always talked about since the moment they went on the run.

A home.

@starjane312 @trinswhimsys @reiya-djarin

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