♡ For Some Memes Or Perhaps A Starter

     a smirk pulls on joel's lips at her response - of course, he didn't believe a word of what she said. hope asking for sugar was like joel asking to borrow a tool. such a clear & BLATANT excuse that's so easily debunked but warms joel's face all the same.

                ❝ well, i reckon we can SCROUNGE somethin' together for ya. ❞

     subconsciously, joel leans his hand against the doorframe while the other comes to rest on his hip. while hope's unexpected arrival was definitely welcome ( he's so glad sarah's at school ), it means he didn't have much of a chance to pick up the house a bit. there's too much evidence laying around the house of joel's ARDUOUS work hours & sarah's soccer team hanging out after practice.

     he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. ❝ you, uh - ya need it right now ? ❞

𝒃𝒈𝟑 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 ( accepting ! )

@quastari said : ❝ let me guess - you need something . ❞ from pre outbreak joel

❝  𝒖𝒉  .  .  .  ❞

even  from  where  she  hovers  behind  his  screen  door  ,  her  caught-red-handed  sheepish  smile  can  be  easily  detected  .  mischief  𝑺𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑳𝑬𝑺  within  her  blue  sky  gaze  ,  hinting  at  an  ulterior  motive  joel  has  already  astutely  picked  up  on  . 

❝  would  you  believe  me  if  i  said  i  came  over  to  borrow  a  cup  of  sugar  ?  ❞  is  her  deceptively  innocent  reply  .

of  course  ,  we  all  know  that baker  extraordinaire  hope  baxter  would  never  be  caught  with  any  less  than  3  full  bags  of  sugar  stored  within  her  perpetually  well  stocked  pantry  .  it  seems  she's  come  to  visit  his  residence  seeking  another  kind  of  𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔  -  should  he  be  receptive  .  they  haven't  exactly  labeled  whatever  they  are  to  each  other  just yet  ,  it's  all  still  so  new  &  delicate  .

❝  just  lookin'  for  a  little  𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑵  𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀  ,  that's  all  .  ❞

vira'ter tag drop.

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

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  .  ❞

🦅🥰

@espercr asked: "It's been a long time. Too long." (DS9!Hope + it's actually Thomas impersonating Will but she doesn't know yet... like we discussed...)

for just a moment - a heartbeat - his brows furrowed at her words. thomas riker had expected one or two incidents where he may be put on the spot, and insisted his quick-thinking and poker face would GUIDE him until he could reach the defiant. an anecdote about will riker's travels is the most he expected.

but not her.

to cover up his surprise, thomas straightens his shoulders and puts on a smile. and he knew which kind of smile to offer hope baxter - he'd seen it himself. ❛❛ it has, ❜❜ he agreed, his tone light to emulate a SOMBER tone. the fact that she was here on the station, and not still on the enterprise, made it a safe bet to act at least a little sadly nostalgic.

❛❛ i hope you've been well. i've read some of the reports before coming here. ❜❜

bayek tag drop.

     ❝ it was a bear, alright. hungry one at that, ❞ is barrett's rumbled reply. with the shelving now upright, he could make out faint scours of claw marks etching the metal. tufts of fur sticking out of crooks in the corners. but aside from all the physical signs, the room simply REEKED of the creature.

     an adult male. black bear, maybe. stinking lightly of garbage when it went scavenging for a meal. he was only here for ten minutes, if that. gone for a couple hours.

     barrett's brow twitches when he inspects the cabinets. unlike daniil, a stab of SYMPATHY hit him in his gut. hunger was something barrett understood very well.

     ❝ why so much morphine, doc ? ❞ barrett casually rumbles out as he approaches the broken vials of the drug.

"The state of a bear isn't my foremost concern," Daniil shoots back, carefully sweeping away the glass shards from his shattered equipment. True to form, all he can think about is the money wasted—some of the broken instruments had come directly from the last days of Thanatica.

Barrett's help is appreciated, but he's not the sort of person who would understand the terrible miasma of frustration and apathetic concession Daniil can't help but feel, looking at the minor carnage in his lab. It feels, in the moment, like he lives a doomed life—all progress will inevitably and invariably be halted by some outside force that wishes him and his research to meet its swift end.

An ill twist of fate; he'd call it that, if he believed in fate. As it stands, Daniil knows he's only unlucky.

"But if you are indeed right about the perpetrator being a bear, it almost definitely got into the morphine," a downward quirk of the lip as further antsy frustration pulls at him, "and the fentanyl, judging by the state of my cabinets. Even half of what I was storing would be lethal for a human, and it'll be about as costly to replace as an arm and a leg."