ᴘʟᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʟʟ

@strcys asked: "I hope you like spicy food!" for will !!! hi !!!

" just how spicy are we talking? "

the question is followed by a teasing smirk & a tilt of his head. will riker was no stranger to PUSHING his own limits - the question was less genuine & more of an invitation.

What’s the worst decision you made while you were drunk?

Don’t mean to brag but I️ don’t even need alcohol to make really bad decisions.

open to mutuals !

      ❝ i’m not supposed to advocate for violence. as captain, i disagree with what you did. ❞

      jon knew the small brawl would bring nothing but trouble. starfleet headquarters will DEFINITELY have a thing or two to say about it - they’ll pressure him to punish the one responsible. but he was also VERY WELL aware that these particular aliens were less than polite. 

                ❝ but ... how did it feel ? ❞

obediently - but not without an exaggerated groan - stan makes way toward the egg aisle. with mabel perched on the very front of the cart like a captain on the stern of her own ship , they caught a few glances from other shoppers. stan knew they were looking at mabel - aweing over an ADORABLE little girl much too excited about grocery shopping. round eyes turn to amused smiles when their gazes moved to stan himself , pushing the cart with hunched shoulders and knit brows.

ah, let one of 'em take mabel home if they want. saves stan from having to eat her mabelcakes . . .

especially when he caught a look at the egg prices. this kid was gonna bankrupt him.

" can't we just get that egg substitute shi- erm, crap ? " stan asked, steering the cart in its direction. " don't want the BURDEN of eating some little baby chicken on your conscience, do ya ? "

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 ( accepting ! )

@quastari said : ❝ the chocolate milk is strikingly overpriced & at the same time very easy to steal ; another of god's little tests .❞ - stanley pines

❝ & i'm pretending i didn't hear that ! ❞ mabel singsongs , depositing a gallon of the aforementioned beverage into their shopping cart with a loud thump . ❝ next on the list is . . . ❞ she squints at the slightly crumbled piece of notebook paper in her hand , where in between various holographic & glittery stickers there are some grocery items listed in glitter gel pen ink . ❝ woof , speaking of overpriced - eggs . ❞ returning to her perch at the front of the cart , she points ahead , waiting expectantly for her grunkle to propel her onward . ❝ now MUSH ! ❞

arthur wanted to stay in the room all night. it wasn't all too smart to go gallivanting around town - sure, they've had a quiet couple days. made good time without any bullets flying their way. perhaps that's what made arthur COMPLACENT. easy to be convinced for a drink or two when they outta stay hidden away.

hope baxter may have had the ability to sweet-talk him all the way to the saloon, but she couldn't stop himself from keeping an eye on the doors. or mad-dogging everyone who walked a little too close to their table. or keeping hope tucked away between himself and the wall.

the whiskey bites, & arthur is careful not to INDULGE too much - out of the ordinary but necessary. a few uneventful days is all it takes for anybody's guard to drop.

her question prevents him from taking another sip. his brows pinch together, nose scrunching a bit as arthur considers the question. ❝ different how ? ❞

but he's got an inkling on what hope means. it's a sentiment he considered once upon a time - when he was a young man being pulled two different ways. wondering what could change in his life that would allow him to have everything and give up nothing.

it was a fool's GAME to wish. nothing never came of it.

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 ( accepting ! )

@quastari said : ∗ 53﹕ sender buys receiver a drink at a bar . ( from arthur )

❝ - thanks . ❞ it's not her first of the night & with the way things are going , it's not going to be her 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 . he's hardly set the glass down before she's reaching for it - tossing the liquor back so fast she can't think too hard about whether she ought to go back to at least pretending to be a sensible young lady .

with each passing day of their journey , hope has only grown more & more disquieted . her thoughts have been far too loud & far too 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑺 . it's become impossible trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of panic her betrothal inspires , at times the weight feels so heavy in her chest she can hardly breathe . driving her even more insane , she can't express any of it . well , she could - but what good will that do ? regardless of her feelings on the matter , she made a promise to her father & the stakes of the situation far outweigh one woman's happiness . . .

even if she's already given so much of herself to others , even if she feels like something inside of her is dying . . . even if she can't stop fantasizing about being a little 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇𝒊𝒔𝒉, just this once .

so here she is , 𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑾𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 her worries for at least a short while . the last thing hope wants to do tonight is think - & thankfully arthur doesn't seem all that opposed to indulging her coping mechanism of choice for the evening .

lord , & then there's arthur morgan - 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 personified . in her inebriated state , hope's lingering gaze has become much less subtle than her typically fleeting glances . while not completely unabashed , she's allowing herself a slight respite from the usual spiral of guilt & shame . besides , it's not a crime to look - is it ? it takes every ounce of self control not to reach out & feel his solid frame beneath her fingertips , hands tightening & bunching up her skirts as an attempt to ground herself . it's not working , she needs a distraction - now .

turning to face him more , a bubbling giddiness present in her voice as the drink 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑺 her inside & out , she throws out the first question that comes to mind , ❝ d'ya ever just wish things were . . . different ? ❞

♡ for a starter / memes from arthur morgan

Arthur Morgan — American Fathers I RED DEAD REDEMPTION II

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.

If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment, I would do it all over again.

Joel Miller in THE LAST OF US PART II (2020)