Obediently - But Not Without An Exaggerated Groan - Stan Makes Way Toward The Egg Aisle. With Mabel Perched

pioneering something called "gritted teeth optimism" where everything is gonna turn out okay even if i have to bite and claw and gnash my way through it

Stan + being subtle

the silence has always put arthur just a little on edge. it holds TROUBLE more than peace, in his experience. a man with a knife hiding behind a corner. a cougar gliding through the shadows. the rare times where dutch is speechless or hosea has got no more tricks up his sleeves.

being alone with a bride-to-be.

arthur unbuckles his gun belt, offering a short grunt to hope's reply as he sets old leather & cool iron down on the table. he plans on spending much of the next few hours cleaning his weapons while hope sleeps. maybe seeking some rest of his own in the rickety wooden chair until she wakes & continue their journey in the morning.

she speaks up again. his grip tightens on his revolver when it's pulled from its holster.

❝ upset me ? ❞ arthur repeats incredulously. a snort edges his tone. AMUSED that this girl thinks she has such sway over his feelings. arthur just gives a short shake of his head. ❝ ma'am, i promise, you'll know when i am upset. ❞

though, he stops himself from teasing her further. he's seen where she comes from. how her father speaks to her. mary had much the same reactions to his scowling face.

❝ ... you've done nothing worth upsetting, miss. ❞

with her attempt to lighten the growing apprehension in the room falling 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐓 , she shrinks further into herself . at another time she wouldn't have hesitated to counter his jab with one of her own - but she's grown far too exhausted from the day's events to come up with any cleverly indignant responses worth throwing his way. besides , there is 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 she could possibly say that could change how he must see her: spoiled , privileged , ingenuous , sheltered , frivolous . . . & the worst part is - he's right .

by all logic it shouldn't bother her so much , what arthur thinks . her father paid him to get her from point a to b safely. that should be the extent of their relationship, 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 . he gets his payment & she takes on the newest role expected of her - beautiful blushing bride-to-be . her family's future will be secured , everything has been carefully arranged for her . it should unfold neatly , 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 .

so why does she still feel so uneasy ?

why does his patronizing only make her want to try harder ?

letting out her own sigh, the tiniest air of 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓 slipping through her best attempts to mask it , ❝ okay . if y'say we're safer here , i trust you . ❞ silence follows , it would be awkward if the tension weren't thick enough to chew . hope tries to let things 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓 , to stop poking the bear - but the question turns over & over in her mind until she can't take it any more .

❝ did i . . . do something to upset you ? ❞

ray tag drop.

      this bar was just about the same as any other arthur has ever been to. patched up holes in the walls, flickering lights, mucked up floor from years of dirty boots & tobacco & dried blood. a offensively STALE smell hung in the air that would've had arthur wrinkling his nose in disgust if he weren't already used to bad smells.

      perhaps due to hope baxter. he does not know if she brought along a bottle of that FANCY perfume the girls at camp are always raving about. or maybe that's just how she smells - like the treats arthur used to steal from a bakery stand when he was a boy. when he turns his head towards hope, he almost feels sixteen again. stuffing his face with a warm biscuit while dutch laughs & pats his shoulder in approval.

      ❝ what i'd do ? what, like be a FANCY banker or lawyer ? ❞ arthur answers with a laugh, bringing up his glass to down the rest of his whiskey. ❝ or- or a lawman ? somethin' like that ? ❞ there's another short laugh. it rumbles in his chest as he shakes his head.

      arthur reclines back in his wooden chair, taking the chance to scan the room once again. he's been keeping his eyes on a particular guy in the corner - clad in dark clothes with a hat that goes over his eyes & arthur has been trying to decide if he was a THREAT or not. a drifter or a hunter. he caught a look at the man's hands when he bought a beer - large & rough & scarred. it was too easy to imagine him snatching hope right out from under him.

      the brief moment of consideration passes before arthur's gaze returns to the woman beside him. he noticed how tightly her fingers grip her skirts. wonders why she seems all wound up when coming her was her idea.

      ❝ look, ❞ arthur continues, leaning just a little closer, ❝ fella like me don't get a lotta choices in life. my momma died real young. my father was an even WORSE man than me, if you can believe it. all things considered, i coulda made a whole lot worse choices. ❞

      & then something dawns on him. a reason why miss hope was asking a question like this. she wasn't like bill - a fool who asks dumb questions for no reason.

      he catches another whiff of her. it makes him lower his hat over his eyes & pull back. that helps him think a little clearer. ❝ ... what 'bout you ? ❞

hope  completely  understood  his  hesitance  when  she'd  requested  this  small  reprieve ,  she  even  assured  him  that  she  knows  this  is  stupid  .  .  .  but  she  was  losing  her  mind  sitting  in  𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬  ,  crammed  into  that  tiny  room  with  him  .  unbeknownst  to  arthur  ,  this  was  actually  one  of  the  less  risky  options  for  stimulation  her  wandering  mind  had  concocted  .  the  rest  ?  well  ,  they  weren't  exactly  decent  thoughts  -  &  would  only  serve  to  complicate  things  further  . 

the  way  he's  caged  her  into  this  corner  of  the  establishment  all  by  their  lonesome  is causing  something  new  &  warm  to  stir  within  her,  certainly  not  helping  her  with  fighting  these  devilish  thoughts.  all  her  life  she's  been  warned  of  this  exact  feeling,  to  never  let  a  man  overrule  her  devotion  to  the  lord  above   -  to  take  advantage  of  her  𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆  .  she'd  always  secretly  scoffed  at  the  notion  ,  that  her  faith  could  be  so  shakable  .

for  the  first  time  ,  she's  beginning  to  understand  the  𝑾𝑬𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻  of  their  cautionary  sermons  . 

but  arthur  ...  he  isn't  at  all  like  the  men  she's  been  taught  to  be  wary  of  .  well  ,  maybe  he  is  ,  sometimes  -  but  that's  not  all  there  is  to  him  .  the  outlaw  has  never  once  made  her  feel  uncomfortable  or  pressure  her  in  any  way  .  he's  always  kept  a  respectable  distance  ,  even  if  she  quietly  𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔  he  wouldn't  .  all  he's  ever  done  is  protect  her  ,  scaring  off  any  wasted  degenerate  that  so  much  as  looked  at  her  in  a  way  he  didn't  like  .  she's  been  protected  like  a  precious  jewel  all  of  her  life  ,  but  not  like  this  .  sure,  he's  being  well  paid  for  the  service  ,  very  well  paid  -  but  hope  is  sure  there's  something  else  contributing  to  his  steadfast  safeguarding  of  her  .  .  .

or  maybe  she's  just  𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮  things  she'd  like  to  be  true  .  it's  hard  to  say  with  how  little  he  gives  away  behind  that  ruggedly  handsome  countenance. 

her  gaze  drifts  past  his  broad  shoulder,  watching  the  bar's  other  inhabitants  with  the  𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓  of  a  girl  long  sheltered  from  the  world  .  this  is  just  about  the  first  saloon  she's  ever  been  inside  of  &  while  it's  exactly  the  sort  of  den  of  debauchery  she's  been  told  it  would  be  ,  similarly  to  her  traveling  companion  ,  there's  more  to  it  than  that  .

men  are  laughing  ,  smacking  each  other  on  the  back  in  camaraderie  &  singing  𝑩𝑶𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑳𝒀  along  to  a  slightly  out  of  tempo  piano  accompaniment  .  there  are  couples  scattered  about  too  ,  speaking  in  hushed  tones  -  smiling  ,  blushing  ,  &  exchanging  tentative  touches  .  in  fact  ,  the  two  of  them  probably  read  to  the  rest  of  the  room  as  exactly  that  :  a  man  &  a  woman  ,  just  getting  to  know  each  other  -  still  in  that shy  tentative  talking  stage  .

there's  a  𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌  there  ,  each  of  them  too  burdened  by  their  respective  albatrosses  ,  suffocating  them  of  the  oxygen  it  would  take  to  set  it  ablaze  .

❝  i  dunno  .  .  .  ❞  teeth  sink  into  her  bottom  lip  ,  sky  blue  gaze  flickering  back  to  meet  his  once  more  .  ❝  different  like  ,  having  𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑺  i  guess  .  getting  to  decide  who  you  want  to  be  ,  not  just  what  people  want  from  you  .  .  .  like  that  .  ❞  she  sets  down  her  empty  glass  ,  running  a  dainty  finger  idly  around  the  rim  .  ❝  any  idea  what  you'd  do  ?  ❞

Jay Ali as Ray Nadeem DAREDEVIL SEASON 3 (2018), created by Drew Goddard

arthur morgan tag drop.

     the glow of his cigarette is the only real way to tell that arthur morgan was there at all. he leans against the thick trunk of an oak tree, which shields him from the moonlight that's bathed miss baxter during her goodbye. it makes her dress nearly as PALE as her skin - almost white, in fact. as if she were already in her fancy wedding gown. the careful steps to meet him like the walk down the aisle.

     he forces that thought from his mind as she approaches him. pulls on his cigarette again, making the end glow like a tiny wildfire. ❝ alright, then, ❞ arthur says, pushing off the tree with a sigh.

               but he doesn't approach the horses. not yet.

     with a thumb hanging from his gun belt, arthur instead steps closer to hope baxter. eyes utterly UNSEEN under the darkness of his hat. nothing but a dark silhouette as he takes a moment to properly size her up. arthur's met her kind before - polite & put together on the surface. maybe even kind. but utterly innocent & ignorant.

     ❝ i dunno what your daddy told you 'bout me, but lets get a few things straight - you do everything i tell you. no questions. no backchat. i ain't a couch driver, ma'am ... i KILL people. an' your daddy hired me to kill anyone who might wanna take you. so please, do bear that in mind whenever you wanna go frolicking or whatever it is you like to do. ❞

𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 @quastari !

it  was  decided  they  should  head  out  before  the  crack  of  dawn  ,  utilizing  the  cover  of  𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔  to  slip  out  of  town  unnoticed  .  there  had  been  a  brief  introduction  to  her  hired  guide  ,  arthur  morgan  ,  but  her  father  had  done  most  of  the  talking  then  .  she'd  offered  a  polite  smile  &  nod  ,  but  not  much  else  ,  unsure  what  the  social  norms  in  this  situation  are  -  if  anything  about  this  could  be  considered  'normal'  .

❝  please  be  careful  ,  ❞  is  the  last  request  damien  baxter  makes  of  his  beloved  daughter  before  she  departs  ,  his  hands  squeezing  both  of  hers  tightly  -  𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑻𝑨𝑵𝑻  to  let  her  go  .  they  had  scarcely  been  apart  since  her  mother's  death  ,  &  even  less  so  since  her  sister  had  run  off  -  all  they  have  left  is  each  other  .  it  shows  in  the  way  they  embrace  ,  holding  tight  for  a  good  long  moment  .  he  presses  a  kiss  to  the  crown  of  her  head  before  sending  her  off  .

 ❝  i'll  be  okay  ,  promise  ,  ❞  her  smile  is  𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆  ,  but  her  eyes  are  sad  .

with  goodbyes  concluded  ,  there  is  nothing  left  to  do  but  mount  her  horse  -  whom  she's  staunchly  refused  to  part  with  for  even  these  few  short  weeks  .  she's  only  packed  the  bare  minimum  for  the  journey  ,  or  as  close  as  she  is  able  to  get  .  had  hope  been  another  woman  of  her  stature  she  might  have  dreaded  ,  even  𝑳𝑶𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑫  the  prospect  of  roughing  it  like  this  -  but  she  finds  herself  actually  looking  forward  to  the  simplicity  of  it  all  .  despite  going  to  these  great  lengths  in  the  interest  of  her  safety  ,  she  is  actually  quite  happy  to  have  some  time  away  from  the  pressures  &  constraints  of  her  typical  life  .  the  whole  affair  feels  like  a  breath  of  fresh  air  ,  the  last  one  it  seems  she'll  ever  breathe  .  hope  intends  to  savor  it  .

after  a  final  wave  &  one  last  look  toward  𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆  ,  she  turns  toward  arthur  .  ❝  i'm  ready  .  ❞

Arthur Morgan — American Fathers I RED DEAD REDEMPTION II

ENDLESS EDITS OF WILLIAM RIKER [ 002 / ??? ]

how to sit, a guide by william t. riker (mutuals may reblog)