Davos Is The Fucking Man.

a kiss for each of your finger tips.

then a kiss on your palm, his whiskers scratchy against it as he brought it to cradle his face.

saying goodbye to arthur was never easy. tears welled up the moment he approached his mount. the silhouette of him walking from you was almost too much to bare, and dripped down your face in silent runs.

“sweet girl.” he’d say scoldingly when he turned around to see you, though his turquoise eyes swam with softness. “crying for me.”

he’d press his mouth against the tears in gentle kisses. then, mounted with his dark hat shadowing the panes of his face, he’d begin the ritual worship of your hands. he was leaning down towards you now, eyes closed as he savored the feeling of your hand against his cheek.

“i love you, darlin’. you know that.” he’d say this with his eyes still closed, as if he was feeling your love in his very bones.

you did, and you loved him. desperately. hungrily. with every cell in your body and without a moment’s doubt. you loved the outlaw like he was god. all of these thoughts raced through your head but you could only reply with, “come back to me in one piece. ill hunt you down after a fortnight.”

his eyes would open then, sparkling with humor. “you promise?”

you’d kiss him through his scratching laugh.

the days would pass painfully slow. laundry was scrubbed, a shirt of his nearly pressed and starched for him and hung in the closet. bread was baked and ate alongside a solitary bowl of stew. the small cabin you had for yourself become a prison. the days you spent with friends in town were the only reprieve.

but when he came back to you… oh lord, when he came back to you.

you’d spot him on the horizon. he galloped towards you with an eagerness that made you laugh. the book you clutched as comfort was thrown onto the floor as you barreled out the front door and down the steps.

and there he was, dirty and sweat-stained, smelling like gunpowder and coffee.

and there he was, taking you in his arms and bringing you close, breathing your name like a healing prayer.

How life be hittin lately 🖐STOP😫

INVINCIBLE: S3 E8 - I Thought You'd Never Shut Up

Lmao I was stuck for ten minutes watching dis shit 🫴

*pat* *pat* *pat*

michael de santa core

Мой!!!

Little pause for Viktor Tsoi of Kino.

Arthur, switching from bitter laughter to the verge of tears, while telling Sister Calderon that he's afraid, with his lips slightly quivering from the attempt to hide his fear, will forever haunt my thoughts.

Cecil Stedman

Me. Me. Me. Ememememem.

silverv + posts that remind me of them

to all the people who talk shit about mary, arthur would hate you and beat the shit out of you.

Terry moodboard

Requested by: @kyleiskoool

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