Earth_shine
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Summary
Three years after the dissolution of the Van der Linde gang, Arthur and Charles pass a long winter together. Arthur calls Charles something new in bed, to rave reviews. Later, he earns a new nickname of his own.
Or, Arthur Morgan-Smith's Guide To Surviving The Canadian Winter, Cowboy Style
Series
- Part 1 of a never ending kind of love
Bookmarked by Earth_shine
30 Jan 2026
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Arthur decides enough is enough and runs towards greener pastures away from his abusive gang of many years. While stopping for a rest, he ends up staying at the Van Der Linde Ranch and accidentally finds a better life for more than just himself.
Officially pronounced dead: May 2022
Bookmarked by Earth_shine
30 Jan 2026
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To have six dead husbands, though, Maybelle had to be married six times. That's only rumor, she claims, but upon spending the better half of a day with her, Arthur would be surprised if it were false. He'd understand it, too, if he caught wind that she had wrapped the suspender of a seventh fool around her crooked little finger, added another ring to whatever obscene box the rest lay in.
Series
- Part 1 of Kinktober '25
Bookmarked by Earth_shine
25 Jan 2026
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“I want you to get on your knees for him,” Abigail breathes into the space between their lips and Arthur tenses underneath John.
“God, Abigail.” Arthur mutters, and Abigail smiles wildly.
Thou shalt not take the Lord God’s name in vain; John hears in the back of his mind. He ignores it in favor of rolling his hips against Arthur’s just to hear him say it again.
Series
- Part 1 of Some Kind of Holy Word
Bookmarked by Earth_shine
22 Jan 2026
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How could he cheer up? His teeth had glinted in the moonlight when he'd rounded on the shorter man, spitting the question like a petulant child.
He'd been confronted with Javier's face, far closer than he'd remembered him being. The man had cocked his head like a coyote seizing up a particularly energetic rabbit, the dark of his eyes far more encompassing, far more feeling, than John had last seen them by the campfire. It was as though even out here, with only the two of them beside the blue-soaked shore, the flames had remained in the musician's gaze and he'd captured them, held them like the burning tip of a match. Except the stick didn't seem to be burning out in Javier, no. Instead, it seemed to flare at John's reaction, his smile far too sharp to be truly kind, as he held up four bottles of whiskey captured in the gaps of his fingers. A promise. A question.
Bookmarked by Earth_shine
18 Jan 2026