@strcys Asked : "That Must Have Cost A Fortune!" For Jon X :)

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

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 ? ❞

      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  ?  ❞

archer & the nx01

poe dameron tag drop.

JOEL MILLER // THE LAST OF US

made some gifs for the first time! might make more for fun :)

bonus // grey, long haired joel <3

ray tag drop.

it was never common practice to ask for details when arthur was getting paid for a job. in his experience, FEWER details made the job easier. & frankly, he did not care to know the circumstances - only how much it paid.

escorting a bride-to-be across statelines was among his more duller jobs to date. the details were not something he spent much time thinking on.

the door is kicked shut with enough force to wobble on its rusting hinges, & arthur's long sigh follows like a low rumble of thunder. the pay of bringing her to her wedding was HANDSOME enough - this ain't too far from bounty-hunting, come to think of it.

❝ perhaps you would prefer sleeping outside in the dirt, princess, ❞ arthur mutters out, giving a shake of his head. ❝ nah, trust me - the first place them bounty hunters will check is the fancy hotel. we're better off here. ❞

he falls into a wooden chair in the corner of the room, offering hope baxter as much space as the room would allow. if arthur wasn't so wound up, perhaps the reality of being ALONE in a hotel room with a women would be more apparent.

a small, admittedly quite mortified, ❝ 𝒐𝒉 . ❞ is all she manages for a bit as the realization of what he is saying settles in her mind . in all of her sheltered naiveté of course she hadn't considered that , yet another reminder that there is terrifyingly 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 she knows about the world beyond her daddy's church doors.

embarrassment rises hot into her cheeks. it was bad enough to feel ignorant, oblivious to the uncensored reality arthur has been steeped in all of his life - but the cacophony of debauchery seeping through the thin walls merely serves to rub salt into the wound. He was 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, & she was becoming increasingly certain this world would eat her up alive if it weren't for him.

hope follows closer behind, trying her best to ignore how her mind 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 dangerously - the sounds don't help, neither does the thought of what these rooms were typically for . Especially unhelpful is the way his frame dwarfs her own , taking up so much of the little space available to them in this narrow hallway . . .

it's also not lost on her that if she hadn't gotten cold feet, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 would have been her wedding night.

❝ alright, alright - i catch your drift, cowboy,❞ she concedes, hoping that will get him off her back for a moment at least.

entering the room they had been given for the night, there is no hiding the crinkle of her freckled nose at the state of it. of course, being thoroughly humbled by their exchange in the hall - among many other times since he had ridden into her life - she keeps her mouth shut.

hope hovers for a moment, frozen - unsure how to relax in such . . . 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 accommodations. she doesn't hesitate long, opting to teeter on the edge of a portion of the mattress free of any questionable stains.

❝ not sure how comfortable i can get . . . considerin' the circumstances,❞ she huffs, an attempt at a joke to ease the growing tension as it suddenly dawns on her that the room is woefully sparse - only one bed for the two of them.

she swallows, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃. it's going to be a very long night.

joel tag drop.