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Ray-Ban Sunglasses

like-fairy-tales

By: Maddie Tsang | maddietsang

like-fairy-tales

By: Melissa

boohwanj-deactivated20240316-de

2021-01-18

Gabaehyangju,가배향주

1063, Poseok-ro, Gyeongju-si, Gyeongsangbuk-do, Republic of Korea

Canon EOS R6 + RF50mm f1.2L

Instagram | hwantastic79vivid

arthurs-boadicea

Imagine Arthur Morgan waking up in your bed :)) after a night with him and without TB, that is important thanks to @joelismyhero for the idea!

yawning boah c: you exhausted him

crownkilling

arthur morgan + that finger gun wave thing he does

charlotte-balfours-garden

I can't give up now.

bigbyswolfs

I tried. In the end. I did.

multi-fandom-imagine

My Kink is when Arthur Morgan grabs is belt buckle or belt.

whirlybirbs

𝒜.𝑀. ; watering hole | a high-society drabble

summary: arthur and the boys have a bit to drink. reposted since the read more was glitching in the ask! anon asked: psst, i know u wrote about drunk!arthur before but. mayhaps, some more?

pairing: arthur morgan/reader (turner placeholder lastname)

a/n: drunk arthur absolutely kills me - i just replayed the lenny mission last night so this is (chef kiss) timing. part of a companion piece to simpler said aloud. this is a drabble for the collection high-society, which follows the events of that fic.

It’s a quiet night.

You’re posed by the fire with a needle and thread in your hands. In your lap sits a tumble of blue fabric. The stitch along the shoulder has been ripped, leaving a gaping hole in one of Arthur’s favorite flannel shirts — and with all the washing and cooking done for the night, you’d settled in beside Tilly and Abigail intending on finally fixing up the shirt for the outlaw.

Fireside chatter is nothing but a gentle lull; the majority of the camp has settled in for the night, save for Hosea and Lenny, playing cards at the table beyond the fire, and the handful of boys who’d ridden out just after dinner set on gathering some supplies from the General Store.

You’re tying a knot in the thread when you hear the clamor of laughter and hooves coming in from the woods — immediately, Tilly spares you an unimpressed look.

“Here comes th’ carnival,” she sighs, “No wonder it took them so damn long.”

“Christ, I can almost smell the whiskey off them from here,” chirps Hosea, holding his cards and shaking his head. That muscles a laugh out of you.

Abigail snorts. “This’ll be a real show.”

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