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#bea's christmas countdown
cowboydisaster · 4 months
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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 * ˚ ✦
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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
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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 It's been replaced by a quiet falling of snow, the creak of nearby oaks.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. 
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taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola
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panelshowsource · 5 months
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so many fun things coming up!
qi (series u/christmas special) — dec 18th with alan davies, eshaan akbar, jo brand, jimmy carr
never mind the buzzcocks (christmas special) — dec 19th with daisy may cooper, jamali maddix, noel fielding, harry hill, leigh-anne pinnock (little mix), ricky wilson (kaiser chiefs) + special guests dj luck and mc neat, 5ive, the wurzels, blaxin' squad
cats does countdown (christmas special) — dec 21st with jon richardson, joe lycett, roisin conaty, danny dyer, joe wilkinson
i literally just told you (celebrity special) — dec 22nd with aj odudu, ben shephard, bill bailey, sarah millican
would i lie to you (christmas special) — dec 22nd with victoria coren mitchell, alex brooker, naga munchetty, melvyn hayes
big fat quiz of the year 2023 — dec 26th with richard ayoade, mo gilligan, katherine ryan, rosie joes, kevin bridges, mel giedroyc
would i lie to you (series 17) — dec 29th
taskmaster (new year treat) — jan 2nd with deborah meaden, kojey radical, lenny rush, steve backshall, zoe ball
qi (series u) — jan 5th with alan davies, aisling bea, urzila carlson, romesh ranganathan
big fat quiz of telly 2023 — tba with russell howard, babatunde aléshé, jamie demetriou, natasia demetriou, judi love, daisy may cooper
plus a league of their own, rob & romesh vs, late night lycett, a lot!!
what are you excited for this holiday season? :)
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petitmimosa · 9 months
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SO.
Let’s start with what I didn’t enjoy so I can gush about the rest. 
The leading up to them kissing was too fast paced for me. I understand the struggle of having to make their written conversations into actual scenes and how long it would be to have it follow the natural pace I’d imagined but it lasts about 20 minutes and it’s too quick. The fact that they didn’t include the Christmas phone call, even if rearranged to fit the movie plot, was truly a negative for me. It has Alex be that much vulnerable which would have been the perfect door to the NYE buildup. Maybe it had all the funny banter and not the vulnerable/deep details I needed? I can’t fault them too much for that because the format is to judge here. I know amazon only agreed to a movie but UGH a mini series would have been so good. Hulu why on earth did you not jump at the chance?
I don’t miss June so much it turns out, but I missed Luna. I didn’t care much for Miguel even if they tied his character to the plot nicely.
I’m tired of seeing that damn rue de l’abreuvoir in every movie/show that shows Paris. And those tablecloths? Don’t mind me, it’s my parisian ass being a snob. 
Henry’s fashion style OH MY GOD. And it’s not even a cliché because we’ve all seen the royals for years, looking like high strung puppets with ancient jumpers as they’re called.
The King and Philip scene was too quick as well. The whole I'm gonna take this to Parliament in the book was so strong it spoiled any other ending for me.
That’s about it I think. 
First and foremost, and I don’t see how anyone can disagree: the chemistry is ON POINT. It flows seamlessly yet is palpable the whole time. I love how Nick and Taylor played Henry and Alex as people. As men yes, but I have the feeling they’d have played them the same had it been a het love story. And I can’t begin to tell you how much I enjoy that. You know when an actor is thinking “it’s another man opposite me”. You see it plain as day. Not here. They cared a lot about these characters and this story and it shows and it is beautiful. They have crazy sexy chemistry as well which doesn't hurt. I was either grinning like an idiot or trying not to advert my eyes from the screen because there were moments I felt like I shouldn't be watching. They saw the no chemistry allegations and said not today satan, not today.
They casted Henry and Alex so right. Nick has such a vulnerable and open acting, the doubts, the pain, the heartbreak just jump at you and bring you down with him. The NYE countdown part? Where he sees Alex kissing two women and it's not jealousy over them but over the fact that Alex has a freedom he'll never have? Love.
And Taylor... Taylor is the perfect Alex. The bright, exhuberant, confident man who’ll stop at nothing for those he loves. Perfect cast, which you need when the whole movie revolves about two human beings falling in love and fighting for it.
Nora! That’s why I didn’t miss June so much, I guess. Nora and the place they gave her do it all. And with the movie being 2h, you can’t have a billion characters jumping in and out of the story, she’d have been like Bea and she deserves better, more. So I’m glad they decided to cut her off instead of having be a poor adaptation.
While I didn't enjoy the rhythm and lack of depth, the way they brought their messages to life is genius.
Oh and that might get me in trouble but I’m so glad they didn’t keep Your song for the museum scene. 
Uma Thurman's talking about bottoming was never on my bingo card but it was hilarious.
And last but not least: ZAHRA IS A GODDESS. “Touch me and die.” That’s it.
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BETHANY JOY LENZ AND VICTOR WEBSTER STAR IN ‘FIVE STAR CHRISTMAS,’ A NEW, ORIGINAL MOVIE PREMIERING NOVEMBER 27, ON HALLMARK CHANNEL
Part of the Network’s Annual “Countdown to Christmas” Programming Event
STUDIO CITY, CA – November 5, 2020 – Bethany Joy Lenz (“Bottled with Love”) and Victor Webster (“MatchMaker Mysteries”) star in “Five Star Christmas,” a new, original movie premiering Friday, November 27 (8 p.m. ET/PT), on Hallmark Channel as part of the network’s annual “Countdown to Christmas” programming event – your home for the holiday.
Lucy Ralston (Lenz) and her siblings are surprised to find out that their dad has converted the family home to a B&B. Just as the family is getting over the shock, famed travel writer Bea Turner unexpectedly shows up incognito. To make the struggling inn look more successful the Ralston’s pretend to be guests and must maintain the charade for the duration of Bea’s visit. Another guest, Jake (Webster) checks in unexpectedly as well and sparks fly between him and Lucy. As the two grow closer, Lucy feels terrible deceiving him, but it turns out that Jake has a secret of his own.
“Five Star Christmas” is produced by Star 5 Productions Inc. Brad Krevoy, Eric Jarboe, Amanda Phillips Atkins, Vince Balzano, Kevin Goetz, Neil Goetz, Stephen Hornyak, Susanne Belzberg, Stephen Harmaty and Doran S. Chandler serve as the executive producers. Ron French serves as producer. Christie Will Wolf directed from a script by Stephen Witkin and Michael C. Elliot. 
LINK
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gtop20 · 3 years
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TOP 20 COUNTDOWN October 31st, 2020
20) Bea Miller - feel something [Debut] 19) Megan Thee Stallion - Girls in the Hood (-2) 18) Sada Baby f/. Nicki Minaj - Whole Lotta Choppas (Remix) (+1) 17) Evanescence - Wated On You (-1) 16) J Balvin, Dua Lopa, Bad Bunny & Tainy - UN DIA (ONE DAY) (-3) 15) The Weeknd - Burning Lights (=) 14) Sebastian Yatra & Alvaro Diaz - A Donde Van (-2) 13) Regard - Ride It (+1) 12) Iggy Azalea & Tinashe - Dance Like Nobody's Watching (-3) 11) Jawsh 685 x Jason Derulo & BTS - Savage Love (Laxed - Siren Beat) (-4) 10) Curtis Waters f/ Harm Franklin - Stunnin' (+1) 9) KAROL G - Ay, DiOs Mio! (-1) 8) Saweetie f/ Post Malone, DaBaby & Jack Harlow - Tap In (-5) 7) Topic & A7S - Breaking Me (-3) 6) Cardi B f/ Megan Thee Stallion - WAP (-4) 5) Dua Lipa f/ DaBaby, Madonna & Missy Elliott - Lavitating (+1) 4) Lady Gaga - 911 (+1) 3) Sech, Daddy Yankee, J Balvin, Rosalia & Farruko - Relacion (Remix) (-2) 2) Ariana Grande - positions (+16) 1) GABBY BARRETT F/ CHARLIE PUTH - I HOPE (+9)
Contenders: Mashmello & Imanbek f/ Usher - Too Much Ava Max f/ Lauv & Saweetie - Kings & Queens Mariah Carey - All I Want for Christmas Is You
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averagezerowaster · 5 years
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I would love to make my home zero waste but unfortunately I live with my parents who don't necessarily agree with it (they think it's ridiculous) so I was wondering what little tips you had so I can least know I'm making a bit of a difference but they won't.
I think it’s really cool that you reached out and are trying to make a difference. It can be hard when the people we love just don’t get it. I know some of my family members were like that when I first went vegan and zero waste. But there’s a whole community of zero wasters for motivation and support so you’ll never feel alone!
Just remember that it takes time to make a lot of these changes. I’ve been working on myself for a long time and I am still learning things every day! So work at it at your own pace and don’t ever let the haters get you down for trying to do a good thing. 
Here are some simple changes you can try out: 
With Christmas coming up, try to buy people sustainable gifts with no packaging and wrap gifts in newspaper or something recycled. Or give the gift of an experience somewhere! Let me know if you need ideas :) 
Use a cloth hanker-chief instead of Kleenex (any old clothing fabric cut up works! I like to have a few on hand) and wash them when they get dirty
Use a shampoo/conditioner bar for hair and bar of soap for your body. If you live in Canada you can get them at Bulk Bark for a couple bucks with no packaging!
Wear you’re clothes more times before washing them to save on water and energy from doing laundry
If you have a car try to drive less. If it’s a 30 min walk or less try to walk or bike
Educate yourself! Spend some time listening to podcasts (Zero Waste Countdown is really good), watch documentaries (I like Cowspiracy on Netflix), or read books (Zero Waste Home by Bea Johnson - I rented from the library!)
Eat less animal products, especially meat. Or if you’re up for it, go Vegan, I’m sure your parents would love that lol. But really, go at it at your own pace, any reduction in animal products is a great way to help the environment (food wise and any goods you buy)
Avoid buying new things. Go through your stuff and see what you have first and if you need to buy anything, always try buying used first
Pack a lunch instead of eating out! Take out is the worst for disposable packaging, cutlery, etc. 
Reduce the amount of water you use (ex. shorter showers) or turn off the lights when not in the room
Spend more time outside. It will help you to appreciate why you’re so passionate about being zero waste and helping the planet
Always have a To Go kit with you. I keep a small mason jar with a cloth napkin, a fork and spoon, and a water bottle with me at all times. It’s great for if I want to take something small home or avoid disposable plates or cutlery
Try to cut out food items that you eat that come in disposable packaging and opt for the zero waste ones 
If you get a period switch to a menstrual cup and cloth pads. You’ll save a tonne of waste from not using tampons or disposable pads. Plus plastic applicators are horrible for your health
Try making DIY things like lip balm, deodorant, toothpaste, etc
Learn about the proper way to recycle where you live, it’s different for every region. 
Being Zero Waste isn’t about having less, it’s about having more of the good stuff by cutting out the harmful and unnecessary things. So that we have more time for the things that really matter (spending time with family and friends, doing things that truly make us and others happy, taking care of the world we live in!).
Sometimes people don’t get the lifestyle from us just speaking about it but when they see us putting it into action, they may be more understanding. Maybe over time your parents will see your hard work and will begin to understand why taking care of this planet is so important for you. I’m always a message away of you have questions or need support 😊 don’t give up, I believe in you! 
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kimonobeat · 5 years
Text
Hitsuji Bungaku Lyrics: 1999
English translation and romanization below the cut.
ENGLISH
What should I do? A sleepless night’s upon me It’s getting a bit orange outside my window
The long gone era In the movie I saw yesterday Was when my mom and dad were little kids
It’s the last Christmas Eve of the century I hear people talking about how a God we don’t even know anything about Will change the city we all once loved
What should I do? I’m having more and more sleepless nights Might just start talking to my teddy bear
The city is full of light I hear the sound of children’s footsteps The countdown’s started. Look!
It’s the last Christmas Eve of the century A god I don’t even know anything about Has changed the person I once loved
It’s the last Christmas Eve of the century I hear people talking about how a God we don’t even know anything about Will change the city we all once loved
It’s the last Christmas Eve of the century A god I don’t even know anything about Has changed the person I once loved
I’m gonna go get them when day breaks
ROMAJI
boku wa dou shitara ii? nemurenai yoru ga kite mado no soto ga sukoshi orenji ni kawaru
kinou mita eiga de sugite itta jidai wa boku no mama ya papa ga kodomo no koro
sore wa seikimatsu no kurisumasu ibu daremo ga ai shita kono machi wa shiranai kamisama ga kaete shimau tte iu hanashi
boku wa dou shitara ii? nemurenai yoru ga fue tedi bea to ohanashi dekisou da yo
machi wa hikari ga afure kodomo-tachi no ashioto kauntodaun ga hajimatta hora
sore wa seikimatsu no kurisumasu ibu boku ga ai shite ita ano hito wo shiranai kamisama ga kaete shimatta
sore wa seikimatsu no kurisumasu ibu daremo ga ai shita kono machi wa shiranai kamisama ga kaete shimau tte iu hanashi
sore wa seikimatsu no kurisumasu ibu boku ga ai shite ita ano hito wo shiranai kamisama ga kaete shimatta doushite yo
yoru ga fukeru koro mukae ni yuku yo
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neoangelz · 6 years
Text
ExoticBomb’s Countdown to Christmas
Hello friends! Bea here with a special announcement. As a special treat, and as a countdown, I will be posting a moodboard and a mini oneshot everyday until Christmas! The best part? I will be leaving some of the ideas and requests to you guys!
When: Dec 1st - 25th
Requests open Nov 30th
Regarding requests, please note I won’t chose all of them, some days I will be posting my own ideas. Do not request smut or angst, I’m only doing pure, wholesome fluff for the holiday season.
I accept requests for the following groups:
BTS, EXO ( OT12 ), NCT ( all units, ex members and rookies ), RED VELVET, F(X), BLACKPINK, MONSTA X, DAY6, SEVENTEEN.
I hope you all participate and have fun!
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cowboydisaster · 4 months
Note
Hi again! Thought of another one….
Arthur finds out that reader has a gift for him for Christmas but he hasn’t gotten them anything. So he has to scramble to think of a gift. He ends up making a handful of drawings of reader including some with their beloved horse. And of course reader is over the moon about it
This one isn’t too clever so if you’re not feelin’ it, it’s ok.
🎄❤️
* ˚ ✦ Icebreak * ˚ ✦
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pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 720 a/n: Just a cute lil' drabble. Merry Christmas' eve! Thank you for another really cute prompt!!
cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: ONE day 'till christmas!
christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist
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Arthur distinctly remembers the conversation in which you’d both agreed that you wouldn’t be exchanging gifts this year. Alarm bells are going off in his head. Was he supposed to get you a gift anyway? Should he have ignored that conversation entirely? Been a gentleman and got you something nice? Arthur swallows thickly. 
Despite the conversation, Arthur had just found out that you have a gift for him. Sadie has a loud mouth, especially when she’s drunk, and for once, Arthur is grateful for it. At least he has a little time to think of something. He pulls his pocket watch out, glancing at the time. 6:27 PM. A little time. 
In a rush, Arthur jogs into his tent, pulling his journal out of his satchel and placing it on the bed. Beside it, he tosses down a piece of charcoal and a pencil. The camp isn’t in a great financial situation; hence the agreement of no presents. So, he reckons if he can’t buy you something, he’ll just have to make you something. 
Arthur begins drawing, and after a while, the sun fades away, forcing him to switch to lantern light. The side of his hand is caked in lead as he runs the pencil over the pages, capturing the curves of your body, the shine of your smile. He draws his favorite memories of you. The day he gifted you your mare, Sugar. The day you kissed him for the first time. The day he’d brought you to camp. 
Arthur stays up far too late, sketching a handful of pictures of you, taking his time to capture you in the utmost detail. His hand flicks perfectly, catching the waves in your hair, the line of your jaw. Arthur draws you with your mare, with his gelding, with him. 
The group of drawings encapsulate the things that you love the most, and the memories that you hold dear. After finishing half a dozen good drawings, Arthur inspects them, fixing little mistakes, and adding little notes about his love for you. When he’s finished, he takes some old baling twine, tying a little bow around the pages, fixing them until they’re all wrapped up perfectly.
He knows you deserve better, a bracelet of silver or gold. A necklace embedded with gemstones, or a new dress. Those are the things you would have been gifted back in the city. He sighs, looking down at his little homemade gift, knowing that it will just have to do.
— — —
“Alright,” Arthur whispers, pulling out the ribbon-wrapped sketches, “Go on n’ open ‘em.” 
Your eyes open slowly, drifting to the white pages that Arthur is extending out to you. 
Hesitantly, you take them, eyes searching up to Arthur’s for reassurance. He nods, and you smile, pulling the twine ribbon, letting it spiral to the floor. You flip the first paper, recognizing it as being ripped out from Arthur’s journal, and you gasp. 
It’s a beautiful sketch, one of you sitting up in bed, hair draped down your back, a graceful smile on your lips. Even through paper and pencil, Arthur has managed to capture the sparkle in your eyes, the optimism in your countenance. Next to the drawing is a small note. 
Early mornings with my lady.
Your heart warms, and you flip to the next one. You find a sketch of you, laying on the back of your beloved mare, arms wrapped around her neck. The drawings are stunning. Works of art that should be posted in a gallery in Saint Denis, and he’s giving them to you. You know how private Arthur is with his journal, and you’re honored.  
“You like ‘em?” Arthur asks, nervous of your silence as you continue to look through. Tears pool in your eyes as you look up to him, holding up some of the precious gifts. 
“You drew me. Arthur,  I love them.” Sincerity is thick in your voice, and Arthur wipes a tear away from your cheek. 
“Didn’t wanna make you cry.” He jokes. You huff. 
“They’re so beautiful, so meaningful. No one’s ever done anything like this for me. Not in my whole life— not before you.” You whisper. 
Arthur’s arms wrap around you then, pulling you into his chest, shushing away your sniffles. 
“They’re perfect, Arthur.” You murmur against him. He smiles. 
“Merry Christmas, darlin’.”
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taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445
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cowboydisaster · 4 months
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Allo, Love! This is a prompt for your Christmas countdown. I’m thinking a snowball fight is needed. It can involve the whole gang at some point or just reader and Arthur. Maybe Arthur is grumpy cat and reader pelts him with a snowball and then another one, testing his patience until they end up wrestling in the snow. Then they end up getting a cold and are sick for Christmas. Hosea has to look after them both as they sit miserably by the fire.
Just a thought, no pressure.
🎄❤️
* ˚ ✦ Snowfall * ˚ ✦
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pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 1k a/n: sorry that this was late, i was so tired after work last night lol. Thank you for the lovely prompt, it is so cute!!
cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: SIX days 'till christmas!
christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist
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“You see any movement?” Arthur asks, eyes flush against a pair of binoculars, scouting the white hills below for some game to bring back to camp. He's intensely focused, in predator mode as his eyes stalk over the valley in search of prey. He continues following the planes of the hills, seeing only small game. It’s been a tough winter, but you seem to be out of the thick of it by now. 
It's a cold day. The ground is covered with a heavy layer of snow, and thick, ornate snowflakes trickle down from the overcast sky, dusting everything in white. The snow makes it easier to spot any tracks, as long as fresh snow doesn't fall on top of them. 
“Darlin’?” Arthur asks when you don't respond, eyes never leaving the hills. He sighs, a bit annoyed. You've been very little help on this trip.
His eyebrows furrow, and the binoculars are brought down from his eyes as he begins to turn toward where you were standing just moments ago. 
“Where'd you-” 
Cold, soft snow pelts him directly in the face, splattering across his nose and eyes. Arthur jerks back with shock, wiping the snow away with his arm, as a harmony of giggles surrounds him. 
His eyes meet yours, polar opposite expressions staring back at each other. You're smiling ear to ear, giggling at Arthur's deep set scowl. He grunts and sighs grumpily as he wipes the snow away from his face. The white mare at your side tosses her head in amusement, whinnying lightly as if she’s mocking him with you.
“Really?” Arthur grunts, shaking his head, grumbling, “A goddamn snowball? I'm tryin’ to hunt. Clear as the damn day that you ain't interested in helpin’ out, so if you could kindly knock the horseplay off, I'd appreciate it.” 
Arthur shakes his head, turning back around, quietly mumbling, “Jesus.” to himself at your behavior. He resumes the search, locating the spot down below where he had planted bait. 
Another snowball pelts Arthur, this time right in the back of the head. 
“For chrissakes, quit that, would ya?” Arthur tries to maintain his authority, because he knows that as soon as he cracks a smile, this hunting trip is over. But he can't help it as his frown breaks into a small huff of air, a little laugh escaping from his lips. 
You catch the little act, smirking. He's right where you want him now. Before he can even react, you grab another snowball from your hidden stash and whip it at him, hitting him square in the chest. 
Arthur looks down at the white circle of snow on his chest, painting your perfect shot. 
“Alright, that's it.” Arthur says matter of factly, wiping his hands together before marching towards you through the snow. You laugh, grabbing your pile of snowballs. You're not quick enough to defend yourself, screaming out as he scoops up a pile of snow, balling it up and throwing it right at you. The snowball explodes into flakes of ice upon contact with your arm. 
“Arthur!” You laugh, eyes going wide as you see him coming towards you.
As quick as you can, you throw a snowball, but he dodges it quickly. You gasp as he runs forward and pulls you towards the ground with him. The impact is soft of course, blankets of snow to protect you from the harsh ground. Your laughs ring out, and two curious noses sniff the ground above you, making sure you're okay. Jasper and Sugar conclude that everything is alright and then they trot off together, stopping to bump noses and groom each other.
“Reckon they’re sweeter on each other than even us.” You smirk, your eyes following the horses until they trail back to Arthur’s. His blue eyes bore into your own, overflowing with adoration. 
Arthur doesn’t reply as he pins your hands above your head. His cold nose lines against yours, lips just centimeters from your own. 
“Quit. hittin. me. with. snowballs.” Arthur enunciates every word, beautiful blue eyes staring right into yours, waiting for your promise. You hum, thinking it over, but then your eyes flicker down to his lips, mind becoming aware of the position he has you in. 
“Hmm.” You squint, leaning up, brushing your lips against his, “Sorry, Mr. Morgan. Afraid I can't do that. It's too funny.” You smile. He sighs.
“You're a heap of trouble, y'know that?” Arthur sighs. 
“I like to keep you on your toes.” You whisper, finally bridging the gap between you two. His hands tighten around your wrists, lips pressing together slowly until you deepen the kiss. Arthur hums against your lips, and you wrap your legs around his waist. 
The snow seeps into your coat, but you care none. Snowflakes fall upon you both, dusting you in beautiful sparkling white. 
– – –
“Children! Goddamn children, gettin’ yourselves sick as you did.” Hosea ushers you and Arthur towards the fire, sighing loudly as he wraps you in a blanket and hands you steaming cups of coffee. 
You had started a cough on Christmas Eve, and Arthur had followed shortly after. Now, on Christmas day, Hosea has been assigned the task of taking care of you pair of fools.
“Thanks Hosea.” You say sheepishly, voice hoarse and cheeks pink. 
“Won’t happen again.” Arthur grumbles, eyes cast down. 
You and Arthur share a knowing glance.
“Soon as I’m back in commission, it’s on.” You whisper to Arthur, scooping up a little ball of snow from the log you sit on, balling it in your frozen hands. 
“Dear girl, I heard that!” Hosea calls from across the fire where he crushes herbs for you both. 
Arthur places his hand on your thigh, pulling you closer to him, wrapping you tighter in your blanket. Sitting next to Arthur warms you right up, especially as he pulls you into his side, arms wrapped around you. 
“I reckon all we can do now is get better, sweetheart.” Arthur murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair. 
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taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola
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cowboydisaster · 4 months
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For the Christmas countdown!
Dutch sends reader and Arthur to find the perfect Christmas tree for camp. Reader says she knows a place near Colter. But they get lost, and what’s that? One bed? Needing to share body warmth? What ever could go wrong 😈😈 as smutty as you find comfortable to write behe
* ˚ ✦ Ceasefire * ˚ ✦
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pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 2.8k a/n: One bed trope is elite. love this prompt. Arthur is a little toxic in this one ngl. probably med. honor. I aint gonna lie gang, this is fucking FILTH. warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dubcon
cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: FOUR days 'till christmas!
christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist
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Arthur kicks the old door in, nearly crumbling the rotten thing before sticking his lantern into the worn down cabin. No words are exchanged as he ushers you though the threshold, slamming the door behind you both. 
The storm outside is brutal, battering the sides of the cabin, sounding like bullets pelting the walls. Hail and snow beat down on the roof, carried by whipping, whistling winds. Even in your wool coat, your limbs feel like ice, your fingers and toes numb.
The cabin you’re entering is old and creaky. The wind seems to whisper through the walls eerily, letting cold air soak through the cracks and wrap around you. You shiver, walking through the main room, pushing open a squealing door to reveal one small bedroom with one tiny bed. You nod, figuring as much. It’s the only door in the house, so you avert your attention back towards Arthur, knelt before the fireplace. He's digging through the wood by the mantle, grunting and sighing angrily to himself.  A tense silence continues between you and Arthur– it hangs in the air like static electricity, and you’re just waiting for it to strike.
“Arthur, I'm sorry.” You whisper, arms pulling your coat tighter around yourself. 
“Kinda late for apologizin’, considerin’ our circumstances, dont’cha think?” Arthur growls, finding a few pieces of dry wood and tossing them into the wood keeper in the fireplace. 
“I knew where I was goin.” You argue coldly, anger rising up the back of your neck, making the hair stand. Arthur shakes his head, avoiding your eye contact as he lights a kindle. 
“Oh, you did, did you? Then you mind tellin’ me why in the hell we’re stranded in the middle of god-knows-where, then? N’ on Christmas Eve? Dutch sent us to get a goddamn tree and thanks to you, we ain't even got one.” Arthur growls, voice finally rising, even though he’s been trying to keep his composure since you admitted you were lost. 
“I– Well you got me all turned around when you took us to the trapper!” You yell, pointing your finger at him angrily, “I had us on the way and then you just had to take us off on some wild fuckin’ goose chase. What even was so important that we had to take an hour-long detour anyway?! How are you gonna blame me when you had to drag me across the state just to what?! Sell a fuckin’ pelt? Make some more money for old Dutch?”
“No!” Arthur roars, standing up from his position on the floor. His anger flares up at your ignorance, “I was savin’ up money to buy your christmas gift—to buy you that goddamn saddle you wanted!!” Arthur’s voice reaches a shockingly loud timbre, and your ears ring. You step back, shocked and mortified by your assumption. Words fail you, and you stutter over them, tears already forming in your eyes at what you’ve done. 
“Arthur…” You say, tears forming in your eyes as he brushes past you, towards the door, “Arthur, you can’t go out in that storm.” You protest, but he’s already putting his gloves back on, placing his hat on his head. 
“Arthur, I'm sorry. Please don’t go out in the storm.” You plead as he pushes the door open. 
“I need some damn air.” He hisses, slamming the door back shut in your face. 
Your hand covers your mouth, silencing sobs as you watch him leave from the window. You hear Sugar’s cries as Arthur leads Jasper out of the small stable, and you watch as the gray horse carries Arthur out the main drag, his coat blending in with the downpour of snow and ice.
— — —
You roll onto your side, shivering on the single cot. There’s no blankets, so you do your best to keep warm by curling in on yourself and blowing warm air into your hands, down your coat sleeves. Cold tears slip down your face, your worry growing tenfold with every minute that Arthur doesn’t return. If he’s not back within the hour, you’ll go out into the storm to find him.
You glance at the pocket watch that is clutched between your numb fingers, signaling that he’s been gone for an hour and a half. Your heart seizes in your chest. The wind causes the windows to shake and clamber, and every once in a while, you perk up– hoping it’s Arthur coming back to you. But it never is.
A miserable whimper leaves your lips, and you sit up, cross legged on the bed to steal another glance at your watch. The fireplace gives off just enough light to see, and you push yourself up from the bed to start pulling your boots on. You’ll be damned before you let something happen to Arthur out there, not when it's your fault he’s out there in the first place.
Before you can get your boot on, the door swings open loudly. Arthur steps in, shoving the door shut behind him, stripping his big blue coat off and abandoning it on the floor. You let out a breath of relief, tossing your boots aside to run to him. 
“Baby- I’m so sorry for hollerin’ at you. I shouldn’t have left ya here.” Arthur rambles, feeling like a fucking fool. You care none, too relieved to see him here. He holds his arm open, catching you just as you run into them, tears of relief flooding your face. 
“Oh, I was so worried, Arthur.” You exhale, crumbling against him.. Lucky for you, he’s always been good at piecing you back together. 
“Christ, darlin’, you’re freezin’.” Arthur points out, readjusting and scooping you up into his arms. You lie your head against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him, as he carries you back into the bedroom. 
“I’m sorry, Arthur. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I shouldn’t have blamed you.” Your voice cracks. 
“Don’t matter, now. Now, I just gotta take care of you.” Arthur whispers, and you sigh with relief. He carries you into the bedroom, tenderly placing you down on the bed. 
“Lets get your clothes off. They’re wet, gonna get you sick.” Arthur says, worry deep in his eyes as he begins to undress you. He tenderly peels away each layer of clothing, hanging them over the fireplace mantle to dry. Once you’re bared before him, shivering, he wraps his jacket around your shoulders. It’s warm and dry, and it smells like oak and his favorite brand of expensive cigarettes. You inhale the scent deeply.
“Be warmer if I take mine off, too.” He whispers matter of factly, pulling off his own layers, sliding next to you in the bed. 
Arthur winces as you cling to him on the bed. Your limbs are like ice against his skin, and he pulls your back to his chest. His arm wraps around your middle, keeping you anchored to him tightly. Your body fits against Arthur’s so perfectly. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together.
A few moments pass by, with Arthur running his fingers over your hip, rubbing his hand down your thigh, waiting for the skin to warm up. 
“Any better?” He asks eventually, voice hoarse, waiting for the answer he knows won’t come. You nod your head, but your teeth chatter. You're shaking like a leaf against him. 
“Ya trust me?” Arthur asks. Of course, you nod your head. You trust him with your life, “I’ll warm you up.” He whispers. 
You shiver, this time not from the temperature as Arthur slides the jacket down over your shoulder blade. He runs his lips across your shoulder, pressing kisses in a line. His lips distract you from his wandering hand, fingertips trailing down your stomach. 
You breathe shakily in anticipation as his fingers reach your throbbing cunt. His skin is hot where yours is cold, adding an extra layer of sensitivity. You flinch when his thick finger bumps your sensitive clit. 
“Too much?” Arthur whispers between kisses, his hand drawing away from your skin. You nod. 
“We got all the time in the world. Jus’ gotta warm you up proper.” Arthur explains. He repositions himself between your legs, pushing your knees up by your ears, spreading you wide for himself. 
“Can’t wait to taste you.” Arthur grumbles, pushing your thighs back even more. You grip the sheets in anticipation as he licks the length of your cunt, coating his tongue in your juices, flicking your sensitive bud with his tongue. 
Your stomach seizes, and you whimper. 
“Yeah, how’s that? Talk to me, darlin’.” Arthur instructs, his nose rubbing against your clit, his tongue sinking into your heat. Arthur’s beard is tickling your thighs, and his fingertips are teasing along your entrance. 
“S’good, Arthur.” You exhale loudly. Your body is already warming up. Your skin is flush with want as he teases you. Arthur’s tongue circles back up to your clitoris, flicking over the bud in languid swipes. You taste so fucking good, he could keep you spread like this forever and never get enough. You would have no qualms with that, happily holding his head between your thighs for the rest of eternity. 
He wants nothing more than to keep you spread open like this. To taste you, kiss you. To hear you whimpering and calling his name. He wants to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you, until you’re sleepy and content and sore. He wants to press his cock into you over and over again, to roll his hips into you, stretch you out, fill you up. He wants to watch his cum leak out of you, just to fuck it back inside. 
Arthur’s cock twitches, and he groans, slipping two of his fingers into your aching entrance. Feeling how slick they become when he pulls them out, when he pushes them back in, curling them to hit that spot that makes you sing. 
“Arthur–” You moan, back arching off the bed. He wraps his free hand over your stomach, pushing you back down to the mattress, “So good. I– Oh, so fuckin’ good, Arthur.”
He smirks, tongue still flicking over your pink, swollen clit. Sucking it between his lips, grazing it with his teeth. It’s more than you can take. 
His fingers curl up, squelching as they rock your own juices back into you, brushing up against your fleshy g-spot, teasing it. 
“I-” You gasp, “I’m close, Arthur. I- I can’t it’s too much! Too-” You moan, tears of pleasure slipping down your cheek. 
And like the pull of a silk ribbon, he's pulling you undone. You're cumming on his fingers, squeezing them within your tight walls. Your clit is seizing against his tongue as you cry out his name, hands digging into his hair, pushing him further against you. You rock your hips against his face, thighs squeezing his ears. Juices gush around his fingers as he works you through your orgasm. Euphoria wracks your brain, picking you up and carrying you to another plane of existence. 
When you come down from it, you’re putty in his arms. Limp. 
“Easy, baby. Y’okay?” Arthur asks, hand easing up your waist, purposefully avoiding the spots where you’ll be the most sensitive right now. You nod, hands reaching up to his jaw, gripping him and pulling him down towards you. 
“Wanna kiss you.” You manage to murmur, soft as silk before his lips are meeting yours. 
You can taste yourself dripping from his tongue. Can feel the sticky wetness on his beard as you pull him impossibly closer. His tongue slips into your mouth, infiltrating your senses with the sweet taste of your arousal. 
Goosebumps break out across your stomach as Arthur’s knuckles trail up your waist, his thumb tickling a small circle around your stiff, sensitive nipple. It sends pleasure in shockwaves down through you, and you arch your back, pushing your stomach up against his chest. The hair on his chest teases your flushed skin, adding to the pleasure of it all. 
“So goddamn beautiful.” Arthur mumbles, pulling away just to get the words out before he’s against your lips again, devouring you. 
“Think you can take me now, darlin?” Arthur whispers, lips moving to your jaw, pressing loud kisses along the sharp line. You hesitate. He’s so big. It takes a lot of preparation.
He senses your worry, and then he’s there, reassuring you, praising you, making you feel so good. 
“You can take me.” A kiss to your neck, “You do so good, so perfect. You can take it. My good girl.” Arthur mumbles against your skin, hand slipping between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His fingers slip back into your cunt, first two, then three. You whimper, hands digging into Arthur’s shoulders. 
“See? Takin’ my fingers as ya are. My good girl, aint’cha?”
You nod your head, teeth sunk into your bottom lip, “Yes, yes.” You whisper, breathing shakily. 
Arthur positions himself over you, slipping his fingers away, and you gasp at the feeling of his thick tip sliding up and down your lower lips. He traces his swollen, rosy tip across your overstimulated clitoris, and your nails dig into his shoulders, a pulse of pleasure rippling up your spine, sending waves down through your bones. 
You pay no mind to the weather, to the temperature. It bothers you none now. 
His thick, pulsing cock nudges against your entrance, and instinctually you tense, taking in a sharp breath.
“Shh, shh, easy, sweetheart. Relax. You can take it.” Arthur coos against your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It's like being swaddled in a heap of comfort, of safety. You know he’d never lie to you, never hurt you. 
“Thata girl.” Arthur hums, grunting deeply as he thrusts just the tip into you. You squeeze him tightly, your walls gripping him, pulling him into you. He could do this all day, stretch you open, stuff his cock into your pretty little cunt, press kisses to your lips and your neck and your nose.
“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s it.” He grunts, pushing himself into you even more. Your back arches, stomach filled with pressure and legs spread open wide, “That’s perfect, so good fr’me.” He moans. 
“God, Arthur–” You cry out, a whimpering mess when he starts to rock. He’s splitting you in two, filling you so full, you can barely take him all. His length knocks against your g-spot, surpassing it even and stretching to your cervix. 
“Feel-” Arthur groans, “Good?” 
You tuck your nose against his chest, nodding, “Fuck, so good, Arthur. You’re so big.” 
The boost in his ego ramps up his stamina, and he rocks into you harder, sending the headboard crashing against the wall loudly with every thrust. The rhythm is barely noticeable compared to the sound of the hail beating against the roof. 
You’re suddenly glad to be stuck out here, if this is the repercussion. You crave his hands on you, his lips against yours. You want him to bend you over the table, take you against the wall, on the floor. You’re content to have him on every surface of this cabin, just to stay wrapped up in this bliss for a little while longer. 
“Easy does it, good girl.” Arthur grunts, face covered in a sheen of sweat, dripping down from a strand of his hair, falling onto your breasts. He fills you with every thrust, his cock carving out the shape of your walls, stretching them to wrap around him perfectly. The signature, wet sound of sex fills the room, drowning out even the storm, yet pale compared to the sound of your mixed moans and breathing.
“M’ close-” Arthur grunts, pace growing quick, cock twitching against your walls. You’re getting close, and he’s there too, grunting and squeezing, gripping your soft flesh. He curses, thrusting hard and deep, hips slapping loudly against yours. 
It pushes you over the cliff edge with no abandon, and again, you’re free falling, only kept here by the physical tether that is Arthur holding you. Your walls clench and squeeze, constricting around Arthur’s length. He groans beautifully, the sound cathartic to your ears, sending more blood rushing to your gluttonous core.
“Oh– Arthur!” You scream, gasping for air just to release it all back out in a slew of curses and moans. Your back arches high enough off the bed that your breasts slot against Arthur’s chest. Your body shakes, like a star on the verge of explosion, receiving no mercy as Arthur continues to thrust into you. He’s losing his control, caught off guard by the pulsing and fluttering of your second orgasm. You’re squeezing him so tight, and god– the moans you’re letting out are driving him wild—
And then, his warm, thick cum is flooding you, filling you up as he stutters and shakes above you, “F-Fucck, sweetheart. Takin’ me– so damn well.” Arthur groans, hips pumping into you twice more, arms shaking from strain. He pumps the last of his spend into you, groan dying down into a deep rumble in his chest.
He stills, taking deep breaths along with you, eyes slipping shut. His forehead falls against yours, and he presses a sweet, long kiss to your lips. It sends butterflies to your stomach, even after all this. He pulls back from the kiss, resting his forehead on yours once again.
“That was–” You begin, catching your breath, “damn.”
Arthur chuckles, “We’ll sleep the rest of the night n’ check out the weather in the mornin’. I don't reckon either of us will be cold.”
You huff a laugh, wincing slightly as Arthur pulls out of you. You grimace as his cum leaks back out. 
In a few short moments, Arthur has you clean of him. He lies beside you, head resting on your lower stomach as you brush your fingers through his hair. 
“Next time we fight,  just skip the runnin’ off, and take me to bed, alright?” You whisper, breaking the calm silence. Arthur exhales sharply. 
“Yeah, we’ll do that.” He chuckles, gripping your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. 
“You think Dutch will be pissed about the tree?” You ask, referencing the Christmas tree that you’d failed to bring back to camp. 
“He surely will be.” Arthur says, “But, I say-” He presses a kiss to your hip, hand wrapping around the inside of your thigh, “to hell with his christmas traditions,” another kiss, “I like this one better.”
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taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola
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cowboydisaster · 4 months
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Christmassy idea idk if I’m too late with this but I just thought of it- Arthur dresses up like Santa to surprise Aspen and the new baby🥹🥹
* ˚ ✦ Starlight * ˚ ✦
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pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 900 a/n: Merry Christmas!! Thank you for this prompt, im glad you enjoy the little christmas universe.
cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: CHRISTMAS DAY!
christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist
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“Aspen? Honey, I think someone's at the door.” You nod towards the threshold, a smile tugging at your lips as she peeks up from her seat at the table, abandoning her gingerbread men to look towards the door. 
“Who momma? Is daddy home?” She asks, a little spark in her eyes at the thought of her father. You pull the curtain back gently. Starlight trickles in as you fight a smile. 
“I don't know, baby. Why don't you bundle up and we'll go see.” 
She nods, and you help her zip up her coat, pull the boots over her feet. You add a scarf and gloves too, always erring on the side of caution. Aspen is so sweet and patient, waiting excitedly to check outside. She waits until you scoop Iris from her bassinet, and bundle the two of you up. 
The baby yawns, big blue eyes peering around, looking for her daddy no doubt.You smirk, holding her swaddled form close to your chest, leading Aspen towards the door. Your dog Bear rushes out first, barking loud, playing in the snow.
“Go on.” You smile warmly when she looks up to you, and then she pulls the door handle, revealing her surprise. 
Snow falls in beautiful intricate flakes, coating everything in white, falling upon fence rails and the big red wagon that is stopped in your front yard. Sugar and Jasper, yours and Arthur's steeds, stand proud at the front, decorated with red bridles and harnesses. 
The two horses bump their noses together, whinnying and entertaining each other as your husband– no, as Santa Claus himself steps down from the red wagon. 
Arthur had been gifted the outfit from an old friend, a designer from Saint Denis; his name was… Wasp, something or other. The rest had been Arthur's idea. The beard, the wagon, he'd planned it all. You had let him go along with it, seeing how much joy he gets out of spoiling them, making Christmas magical. 
“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa calls– with a particularly southern drawl, you note– as Aspen runs across the yard, a fit of giggles erupting from her chest. 
“MOMMA!” Aspen turns back to you, screaming. Her little cheeks are pink, a smile stretches ear to ear, “It's the real Santa Claus!” 
You rock Iris in your arms, watching the scene play out. Wishing you could live in it forever. 
Arthur helps Aspen climb into the wagon as she marvels at all the bells and whistles. She tells him how good she's been, how much she loves her family. She also tells Santa that her baby sister should be on the naughty list for crying too loud sometimes. Santa has no qualms with that one. 
Iris is far too little to stay out in the cold for very long, so after her nose begins to turn pink, you nod to Arthur, signaling that you'll be stepping back in the house. 
From your seat in the living room, rocking your daughter, you can see the pure joy in Aspen’s eyes. She sits on top of the wagon with Arthur, and he takes her for a ride around the property, talking to her all about Christmas. 
Iris stirs when the door flies open, your little girl running through. 
“Santa took me on a ride!” She hollers, pinks tinged pink from the cold. She pulls her scarf and boots off, dropping them by the front door, “He said ‘Goddamn!’”
Your eyes pop open wide, flickering up to your eldest, “He said what?” 
“Yep! He tripped and he yelled Goddamn!” 
“Baby–” You snort, covering your face with your hand, “Please don't say that word, okay?” You try not to laugh, knowing it will spur her to keep saying it. She nods, pure joy lingering in her eyes. Magic.
“Good, thank you.” You smile at her sweetness, “Go ahead and get in bed, honey. It's way past bedtime, and we have to get to sleep so Santa can sneak our presents under the tree before he leaves. I'll be in shortly to read you a story, alright?” 
— — — 
Bear’s head raises from its comfortable position as Aspen slides out of her bed. She knows it's way past her bedtime, knows that she should have stayed put, waited for you, but she can't help it.
She has Arthur's curiosity. She has your knack for mischief. The door doesn't creak as she pushes it open, little feet padding across the chilly wooden floor, down the hallway.
Ponderous eyes peek around the corner into the living room, going wide as dinner plates. There is a small pile of foil-wrapped presents under the Christmas tree, but more of her attention is locked onto the scene in front of the Christmas tree. 
She gasps, her little hand covering her mouth, suppressing giggles. She runs back to her room, and this time, her little padding feet reach your ears. She jumps back into bed, pulling the blankets up, giggling.  “Bear!” She whispers, gripping onto his big face, “Momma was just kissing Santa Claus!!”
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taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445
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cowboydisaster · 4 months
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welcome back! if you are still taking requests for your christmas countdown, maybe a lil fic about reader and arthur’s first christmas together after leaving the gang? this could be fluffy, spicy, or both. whatever you’re feeling!
* ˚ ✦ Snowblind * ˚ ✦
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pairing: arthur morgan x f! reader
word count: 2.2k
a/n: I loved this prompt! I kinda took it in my own direction so I hope that's ok!!
tw: pregnancy
cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: FIVE days 'till christmas!
christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist
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The kitchen appears as if a bomb of flour has exploded, sending white dust across the countertops, sprinkled onto the floor and spattered on the walls. As much as the mess is stressing you out, you can’t find it within you to care too much. The phonograph situated under the living room window is playing a classical christmas record. You’d picked it up in town, finding that it’s helpful in drowning out the sound of the cold wind outside. 
“Oh, baby, let me help.” You cringe at the sight of your daughter spilling dribbles of milk onto the counter instead of into the mixing bowl. 
“I do it, Momma.” Aspen says, her little fingers trying to steady the jar. You wipe your hands on your apron, coming up behind her and holding your hands over hers to help. 
“You’re doing a very good job. Momma’s just gonna help, is all.” You reassure, smiling as Aspen helps you add the ingredients. Once the milk is all poured in, she takes the spoon and begins to stir the ingredients together. You glance up at the window by the front door, noting that the blue hills in the distance are no longer visible. In fact nothing is visible. All that you can see is white. Snowblind. It’s far below freezing outside, and you worry for anyone left out in the hellstorm. Your heart seizes in your chest, but when your daughter's worried eyes land on you, you smile. Pushing down any worry. 
“Daddy?” Aspen asks, her sad, worried, little blue eyes glancing towards the door. You curse yourself for putting your worry onto her. Her little heart is far too innocent for such troubles. 
“Daddy will be home from work soon, baby. Why don't we get these cookies done so we can surprise him, okay?” 
“Okay.” She smiles again. That perfect little smile, identical to Arthur's. 
Aspen helps you roll the dough out and cut it into her requested little shapes. She had wanted to make her daddy a deer, but when that proved to be too difficult for even you, she had settled on snowflakes, horses, crosses, and stars. 
Once all the cookies are cut, you send Aspen into the living room with Bear. She’s within eyeshot, and you smile at the sight of her sitting on the floor with the black newfoundland. She’s trying to read him her favorite storybook. Her legs are crossed, with Bear’s head resting in her lap as she tries to recall the story. She can’t read yet, but by God, your little girl is trying. 
You place the raw cookies down into the Dutch oven before covering it in glowing red coals. A quick glance at your pocket watch, and your gut sinks. It's a quarter ‘till five already, and your husband was supposed to be home at four. The light from the window is fading, the white light going dull as day turns to dusk. 
This is your first Christmas here. Your first Christmas away from the gang, from that life. Aspen has a chance at a normal life now, you all do, and you’ll be damned if some hellish forces try to take that from your family. 
All that you can do now is keep yourself distracted. Years ago you would have run out into the storm, leaped onto Sugar and galloped towards town looking for him, but you have more than Arthur to worry about now. As much as it kills you to sit here, you can’t leave her, and you surely can’t take her. 
To distract yourself from the sticky black cloud of thoughts, you clean the kitchen, wiping up all of the flour and washing all of the dishes in the dish bin. The phonogram switches to the next song as you finish up, and you check your watch to confirm that the cookies are done. 
“Aspen, wanna help?” You call towards the living room. Her brown curls bounce as she turns her head towards you, blue eyes filled with excitement.
“Uh-huh!” Aspen hums, flipping her book to the next page and placing it in front of Bear’s paws, “You read now, puppy.” She whispers, offering him a sweet pat to the head before she’s running back into the kitchen. 
You pull the Dutch oven out of the fire, removing the lid with potholders so you can peek inside. 
“Remember, don’t touch. This is hot.” You tell her, and Aspen nods her head, taking your instruction with the utmost seriousness. 
“Hot.” She repeats, keeping her little hands far away. When you pull the cookies out, she gasps with wonder. 
“Wow!” She smiles, eyes going wide with joy. Her little hands clasp together, “Cookies for Daddy! Them are so pretty, huh, Momma?”
“Very pretty.” You struggle to contain your smile, placing the cookies onto glassware to set out for when Arthur returns home. Of course, you set a few out for Santa Claus, too. 
As Aspen drools over the cookies (and sneaks one to Bear), you check on the roast. You purposely hold your breath as you lift the lid, knowing that the smell will make you sick. You deem it done, and then return to the cookies. Just as you’re about to take one for yourself, Bear barks. 
“Daddy’s home!” Aspen’s eyes light up, and your eyes flicker to the door hopefully. The door opens quickly, and in emerges your husband, wrapped in his ancient, blue winter coat. The hat on his head is covered in snow, and when he pulls it away from his head, you see how pink his cheeks are. As miserable as he must be, he shows nothing but happiness. 
“There’s my girls! C’mere.” Arthur says as Aspen erupts into giggles, nearly tripping over her dress as she runs into his arms. He shrugs his coat off just in time to scoop her wiggly little body up. He sits Aspen on his waist, and as she wraps her arms around his neck, he looks to you. 
“Oh, Arthur, I was so worried. You must be frozen.” You whisper, eyebrows drawing together in concern. 
“I’m just fine now, sweetheart.” He smiles, extending his arm to pull you into his open side. His eyes look to yours, melting away any trace of worry that you’re clinging to from the day. Your eyes slip shut, and you let out a long breath as Arthur holds you and Aspen against him. Aspen wraps her hands around you both, effectively creating a hug between all three of you. 
“Love you, darlin’.” Arthur whispers to you, and you look up, placing a small kiss to his lips. 
“S’ Christmas Eve.” Arthur smirks, “Santa comin’ tonight?” 
You pull away from Arthur, keeping your hands intertwined as you bring him towards the kitchen. Aspen nods profusely, small fingers twirling her curls nervously, “Mhm! I listened to Momma and you, I'm on the good list, Daddy.”
“I know you are, baby. I’m sure he’ll be comin’ tonight.” You reassure, “Well,” You divert your attention to Arthur who must be starving, “We have been very busy today.” 
— — — 
“She’s asleep.” Arthur whispers, closing Aspen’s bedroom door, being extra careful to not let the door creak, “Bear’s up in bed with her.” He cracks a smile, momentarily glancing to the Christmas tree, and under it, where a few presents signed from Santa sit for Aspen. You look up from your seat on the couch, putting down your embroidery to extend your hand to Arthur. 
“Come here.” You request. His much larger, rough hand slips into yours effortlessly, and he sits beside you on the couch. Naturally, you curl up against him, cherishing his warmth, his love. 
The fireplace holds a decent sized fire, and flames lick the mantle, emitting a steady warmth onto the two of you. The crackle and pop of embers is soothing, and your eyes slip closed as you fall into a comfortable quiet. 
“Thanks for puttin’ her to sleep.” You whisper. 
“‘Course. I missed her. I hate bein’ away from you both.” Arthur shakes his head, “I don’t like leavin’ you out here. And trust me– I know you can handle your own, I just… don't like bein’ away.” Arthur admits, and you rest your head against him. 
“I know. It’s not forever, though. We’ll be okay.” 
Arthur hums, and then raises an eyebrow, as if remembering something. 
“I got you somethin’ for Christmas. S’just little.” 
Your interest is piqued, and you scoot forward on the couch to peek as he reaches into his leather satchel on the floor. 
“Arthur, you didn’t have to–” You start, your voice quickly dying as you see what he’s pulling out. 
A little leather-bound journal is extended to you. Your eyebrows furrow, and you hesitate to take it, but Arthur nods. 
“Is this…? How did you– Where?” You struggle to organize your thoughts, words failing as you take the book, as you flip through the pages. Your questions become more muddled as you realize that this is Arthur’s journal. The one that he’d documented everything in. The one that he’d lost in the escape from Beaver Hollow. Your jaw falls slack, confusion and nostalgia, loss and love swirling together in your head, “How…?” You whisper, tears filling your eyes as you glance to Arthur, then down to the page where he’d documented the day Aspen was born. 
“Called in a favor from an old friend.” Arthur smirks, but turns serious, tapping the book page, “I want you to have this, considerin’ most of these entries are about you.”
Your heart swells, tears dripping down your cheeks as you hold his journal close to your heart. 
“I love it, Arthur. I- I love you.” You whimper, emotionally. He smiles, warm and loving, his thumb wiping a tear from your cheek. 
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
He holds you against him for a long while, the two of you flipping through old memories, good and bad. You recount the day you got married, the day Aspen was born. The most haunting entry is the last one. The day Arthur had begged you, forced you to take Aspen and Sugar, to flee Beaver Hollow and get as far away as possible. You’ll never forget turning around and seeing the place go up in flames, not knowing if you’d ever see your husband again. When Arthur made it out that day, he had left nearly everything– including his journal. You both had assumed it burned in the fire, and any hope that it didn’t was crushed by the fact that you can’t go back there.
After a while of flipping, the anxiety in your stomach finally quells, and you speak up, “I have a little surprise for you too.” You whisper, closing the journal and setting it on the coffee table. Arthur’s eyebrows draw together, and he sits up straighter on the couch as you turn to face him. Your hands toy with each other, and Arthur takes them in his own to quell the bad habit. 
“You didn’t have to–” He begins. 
“No, no,” You huff a laugh, “I didn’t spend any money.” 
His eyebrows draw further together as you bite your lip nervously. 
“Darlin? What is it?” Arthur asks, and you smile sheepishly. 
One deep breath, in and out, and you’ll tell him. He won’t be mad surely? Right? He couldn’t be… not your Arthur.
You take a breath, “I’m pregnant again.”
Arthur’s eyes go wide in surprise, and he stutters over his words for a moment. You search his eyes, his face for any sort of reaction, and in a moment his lips crack into a smile. 
“We’re– we’re havin’ another baby? You’re sure?” Arthur asks hopefully, hands squeezing yours. You nod. 
“I didn’t wanna tell you until I was sure, and… well, I’m sure now, Arthur. I'm pregnant.”
Arthur laughs, eyes locked onto yours, heart soaring with more emotion than he ever thought possible. He never thought he would love anyone again… and then he met you, and then he was sure he'd never love anyone as much as he loves you– and then you made him a father, twice now. Arthur's hands tighten around yours, and you finally break into a teary eyed smile, the anxiety gone now that you've managed to get the words out.
"We're havin’ another baby.” You repeat, smiling up at him with blurred vision.
Before you can say much else, Arthur’s hand gently grips your jaw, and he pulls you against his lips. Your hand still squeezes his as he moves against you, only pulling away to breathe. 
“You’re givin’ me everything I’ve ever wanted.” Arthur smiles, the deep kind, the kind that wrinkles the crows feet in the corners of his eyes. 
Arthur's hand snakes down to your stomach, and although there is no noticeable bump, it brings him comfort to rest his palm against it. He knows his baby is in there, your baby, and he wants to be close by. It’s a small habit he’d done when you were pregnant with Aspen too. 
“We made it, darlin’, we–” Arthur huffs, a smile on his lips, “I've got you here, in our home. Our daughter sleepin’ in her bed. Our dog. You're carryin' my baby again."
Arthur's tone grows serious, and he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing the top, “Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas, Arthur.” 
The snowstorm rages on outside, but it is far from able to outshine the joy and the warmth that is projecting from your four little walls this Christmas Eve.
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taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola
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cowboydisaster · 4 months
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➵ information: one Arthur Morgan fic per day, counting down towards christmas, like an advent calendar! all the fics are from prompts sent by you guys!! These fics could be considered as being in the same universe, but don't have to be! It's all up to your perception/choice!
➵ a/n: merry christmas and/or happy holidays!! I'm so excited to be doing the countdown again, I hope you enjoy it! 🎄❤️
➵ ↓ divider by @saradika-graphics ↓
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➵ seven days 'till Christmas: STARDUST
in which Arthur gives you a memory.
➵ six days 'till Christmas: SNOWFALL
in which a snowball fight turns into a sick day.
➵ five days 'till Christmas: SNOWBLIND
in which you and Arthur spend your first Christmas at home.
➵ four days 'till Christmas: CEASEFIRE
in which an argument turns into an understanding- he'll always take care of you.
➵ three days 'till Christmas: MOONLIGHT
in which arthur refuses to admit that he loves your kitten.
➵ two days 'till Christmas: NIGHTFALL
in which arthur takes you to (and in) the hot springs.
➵ one day 'till Christmas: ICEBREAK
in which Arthur scrambles to get you a gift.
➵ CHRISTMAS DAY: STARLIGHT
in which Arthur dresses up as Santa Claus to surprise you and your girls.
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cowboydisaster · 4 months
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yall I PASSED OUT after work last night 😭 Sorry, my bad. yall get two fics today for advent today, hehe
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cowboydisaster · 8 months
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✭ THERE'S A FIRE IN YOUR EYES AND THERE'S BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS Ʊ
➵ Bea | 19 | writer/linguist
➵ ao3
➵ requests: CLOSED
➵ rules for requesting
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MASTERLISTS:
➵ Red Dead Redemption Two Masterlist
➵ Call of Duty: Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist
➵ Christmas Countdown!
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LATEST:
➵ The Blossom Series
➵ Compass 1: la belle fleur sauvage
➵ Ceasefire
➵ Snowblind
➵ Snowfall
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🌹 layout by the lovely + talented @margowritesthings 🌹
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