#domestic beth

[jessmalia]

stiles and malia playlist: the little things by kelsea bellerini (x)

save your money on the roses, baby just leave a daisy on the dashboard just pick me up in your old bronco, baby don't gotta ride in on a white horse

[misslisamiray]

Time for a random headcanon thing!

At this point, it's widely accepted/practically canon that Diane was the breadwinner & Rick was the stay at home parent. So he would have spent the most time with Beth.

Another widely agreed upon thing (though maybe less so than the first one) is that Rick, without all his cybernetics, is/would be kinda weak & wimpy, yes? There was a popular post about this a few months back, but sadly the account it was from deactivated, so I can't link it. 😔

Little kids bring home lots of germs from school. This is a fact even non-parents like myself are aware of. If you have friends with kids, you've definitely heard at least one of them say they thought they had a great immune system, then their kids started school. If you are a parent, perhaps you've said it. I'm assuming this is all the same in the RnM world, so.....

Put all these thoughts together and you get: Young Rick was definitely that one unfortunate parent who caught EVERY bug that went around little Beth's classroom. Even when Beth herself didn't.

Is this an important theory? Nope, not at all. But it made me go "awww", and I am sure that I'm right, so I figured I'd share.

[hazelnut-u-out]

I feel like the Beths have SOOO much untapped potential. I obviously wouldn’t want the show to lose sight of Rick and Morty, but jeez… Can we have a B plot of the Beths as mothers instead of wives or daughters?

I know we have episodes like The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy, which is pretty strong, but I wish we had more insight into how the Beths’ parenting philosophies have grown to be different since the cloning. I could see a plotline where they’re arguing the whole time about how ‘hands-on’ they should be as mothers. I could see Space Beth calling Domestic Beth overbearing and Domestic Beth calling Space Beth heartless/neglectful.

Imagine an episode where Domestic Beth chooses Morty explicitly. Can we get a ��I’m your mom. The version of your mom that chose you. The version of your mom that cares. The version of your mom that refuses to put you in danger again.’?!

What about an episode where they disagree over which child to prioritize?

SOMETHING, lol. If we’re going to have Space Beth around, let her coparent with her girlfriend, goddamnit. Give Morty some improvement with his mommy issues. God knows the kid needs it.

[aboutcustardcreams]

People Help the People

Still grieving cause I finished watching another amazing series "Broadchurch" and this is my way to cope. Writing! I hope this is a healthy mechanism cause it's the only thing I do. Always. No kidding. Hope there aren't many typos or mistakes, because guess what? I didn't reread :3

Summary: Sometimes it's nice to be reminded by those you love how much you mean to them. Beth Latimer is natural at that. /Set somewhere in season three/

word count: 3800 ish

When Chloe picked up her phone, you glanced at her with the corner of your eye. As ‘dad’ slipped from her lips, the episode you two were so carefully watching turned unimportant, so you paused it. 

It was no secret that Chloe was particularly tethered to Mark, all things considered. It had been incredibly painful for her to see her parents drafting apart, filing the divorce’s papers and taking different paths. Beth with you and Mark… well, by himself, wandering here and there, searching for who knows what. 

You met Beth some months after the trial; she and Mark were already in crisis by then. Their marriage, you learned, broke long before Joe Miller took their son’s life, but they only admitted it to themselves after the tragedy fell upon them, too busy mourning their son. With everything going on, to talk about their marriage going south didn’t seem right, nor as important as dealing with a pain so colossal as the loss of a child, by hand of a friend, no less. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine here,” she responds lightly, but honestly. “Mom’s reading a bedtime story to Lizzie and I’m watching a movie,” she briefly glanced up at you, a tight smile curving her lips, “Yeah. With her.” 

You froze, suddenly feeling uneasy. You couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but you got the feeling that Mark probably asked if you were near her. Her daughter. Not yours. As if he wouldn’t know. Where else would you be anyway, considering you lived there now? You never fully grasped what his opinion of you was. If he hated you, envied you or tolerated you.

You leaned back against the couch, and forced yourself to push aside those voices in your head, still accusing you of living in someone else's nest.  

It’s been a few days since the last time Mark dropped in to say hello. Weeks, maybe. Maybe he passed by when you weren’t there, or met up with the girls somewhere else. Beth would tell you if she met him in the street, but she didn’t. You knew it was difficult for him to show up and be a dad, despite everything. 

“So late at night?” Chloe’s voice takes you from your thoughts, “Are you far? Maybe I could–” 

You tried to think of the reasons why Mark would call Chloe at this time of the evening. You could think of nothing immediate. You turned towards the teenager again, gwaning at your lip, as you spotted Chloe’s side profile crunched up in concern. Features dimming a bit. Only a moment ago, she had another light in her eyes, she was smiling and commenting on the movie as the two of you watched it. She cared for you, liked you, maybe loved you. On your part, there were no doubts whatsoever, you loved Chloe and Lizzie as if they were yours.

Before meeting you, Beth had nobody to talk to. It took her some time to let you in, trust you, as it should have been, all things considered. But when she did, your life opened up to a myriad of possibilities. To be able to enter her world had been the best gift you could ever wish for. She found a friend in you, a trustworthy one. You gave her a sense of stability she was so desperately looking for. And then, it all blossomed into love. Before finding you, everything revolved around Mark and his grief. Sometimes it still feels that way. He made Danny’s death all about him, and that behavior caused great damage to the Latimer’s family that eventually fell apart for good. Beth was the one who suffered the most, in your opinion. Because she had to crowd out her ongoing pain to deal with Chloe and Mark’s. Then you came along, and made it a little easier to deal with it all. 

At first, you remember, you didn’t have the words. What was to say to a woman who lost something as important and essential as a child? For a while, you had no idea how to help her. So you did the only thing you could do, be there, be present. Listen to her cries and outbursts, hold her with the promise to never ever leave her side. That’s when she started to heal, to feel better, to smile more, to act like she was alive again. 

“No, I know, I’m just worried,” Chloe’s hand reached out to yours, probably having noticed the nervous drumming of your fingertips over the fabric of the couch. You met her eyes then, and she gave you a soft smile, when you gently intertwined your fingers together. 

“I miss you too, dad,” she trails off, and you feel your chest tighten a bit, “do you think we can meet up soon? Maybe we can have lunch together, here at home? Lizzie would love that and–” 

You winced when her hopeful tone turned into a discouraged one, “Oh, yeah right. I get it,” her attempt at pretending to be alright by whatever he told her didn’t convince you for a second. 

It doesn’t take a genie to understand he let her down. Again. Why was it so hard to show up and be there for his daughters? It enraged you, his behavior. 

When Chloe withdraws her hand from your grasp, you’re sure to feel your heart creaking slightly. Her jaw tightens as she nods wordlessly, only briefly throwing you a look, whose meaning turned out to be quite a mystery. Until it didn’t. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, blinking  repeatedly. You mouthed a small ‘sorry’ before getting up from the couch, later motioning to her you’d go outside for a breath of fresh air, acting as if being indirectly told to leave didn’t hurt you. Get a grip on yourself, and woman up. You gave her one last tight smile, and then reached up to the front door, stepped outside only to sit down at the entrance, on the stairs. Flopping down, you raked your fingers through your hair, ruffling it a bit. 

You looked up at the sky, a pout soon forming on your face. No stars. You were hoping to see the stars. 

You find yourself thinking about a lot of things. Your life with Beth. Your relationship with Chloe and Lizzie. And the highly questionable behavior of Mark. After four years, he still struggled to move on. Never tried to, perhaps. A part of you thought Mark died with Danny that day, becoming the ghost of the man he used to be. Only an empty shell, unable to find any form of comfort, not even in the eyes of his daughters. 

Beth, somehow, succeeded where Mark failed. That woman never failed to surprise you. Beth was the strongest person you’ve ever met in your entire life, she even helped other people now, as sexual assault crisis worker. When you thought she couldn’t surprise you more, she showed up one day telling you about her new job, with so much excitement flashing in her eyes. You were so proud of her. So immensely grateful to have crossed paths with her. Beth had been able to convert her ongoing pain into something noble and useful to the community, despite that same community letting her down when it came to getting justice for her son.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, at the thought. You’re quick to wipe it away, when you hear the front door creaking open again. 

A smile crept on your features, when you feel the warmth of a familiar jacket fall upon your shoulders. Of course it would be hers. She knows how you love her clothes. Her scent filled your nostrils right away, and you can’t help but inhale deeply to have more of it. “Chloe told me you were here,” she stroked your head, and you glanced up at her, finally meeting her eyes. 

You hummed, “looks like you found me,” you teased softly.

“What are you doing here?”, she crouched down by your side, her thighs touching yours as she does. 

You cling to the jacket, and take in a small sigh, before replying, “Chloe was on the phone, I thought I’d give her some privacy. Is she still-”

Beth shakes her head, predicting your question. You hummed, a tight smile graced upon your lips. A part of you wanted to ask if she was alright, but you asked something different, instead. “Lizzie is asleep?”

Beth nodded with a smile. She later scooped you a bit closer, draping an arm over your hip. “Yeah, she wants you to know that you’re way better than me at doing the voice of Mr. Penguin,” her attempts at sounding annoyed aren’t convincing in the slightest. When you looked up at her, you spotted the veil of amusement flashing in her eyes, making you chuckle. 

“Aahw, is that so?” You leaned further to kiss that adorable pout of hers. It was true, you were good; the only problem was that Lizzie hardly ever fell asleep when it was you narrating the stories, because of the energy and the poignancy you used. Story time with you became a real playtime. That’s why you three made a deal, you’d be the one reading the adventures of Mr. Penguin on the weekends, when there was no school the day after. 

Beth gently squeezed your hip, “Don’t be smug now,” she teased, and you chuckled against her mouth, “I can teach you how to be more convincing for the next time. Mr. Penguin has a specific accent, you know,” you teased, eyebrows shooting up in a cheeky way. She hummed, before pressing her lips against your hairline, offering you a sweet cuddle. 

When she pulled away, she said, “You know, you didn’t need to leave the house to give Chlo some privacy earlier.” 

You hesitated, looking down on your lap. “I didn’t leave the house,” you explained. “I’m on the porch, am I not?” 

“Still,” she insisted, gesturing to where you were sitting. You sighed and rolled your shoulders, probably in the attempt to downplay the topic, but Beth was having none of that. She clasped your chin and gently lifted it so that you’d meet her eyes. Your heart can’t help but beat faster. 

“Why are you here, really?” Her sweetness turns you into a puddle. 

“No reason, Beth…”, you insisted uneasily. 

With her hazel eyes squinted, she muttered “Liar,” to you. “You should know better than to do that to me.” 

You laughed slightly, merely shaking your head at her ways. “Beth,” you started meekly, “I simply thought that Chlo needed a moment of privacy,” it wasn’t a lie, it just simply wasn’t the whole truth. “It felt like she couldn’t talk freely to Mark with me sitting so close.”

She cleared her throat, nodding in understanding. “So it was because of him?”

“Not because of him,” you objected, sounding almost childish. 

She giggled. “Hey, I know, alright? I’m just teasing you. Will you stop worrying so much? Don’t act like you don’t belong in this house.”

Confusion flashed across your face. “How exactly am I doing that?”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at you as if it was kind of obvious, “By sitting on the porch because Chloe was on the phone.”

You shyly ducked your head, a little smile tugging at your lips, “you mean your property stops at the doorway? What about this beautiful garden over here?” 

“First of all it’s our property, not just mine” she sounded almost offended by your assumption. You giggled, a wave of warmth flashed through your heart and lit up your eyes once again. She had superpowers, Beth Latimer. She couldn’t be a common human being, because of how extraordinary she was. “You belong here. By my side, with Chloe and Lizzie,” she brushed her hand over your cheek, before brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t you ever doubt that for a moment, please.”

“I never do,” you respond, fondly. “It’s just– I just wish things between Chloe and Mark were different. Better. All she wants is her dad close and he– it seems to me he doesn’t care enough. Which is ridiculous, and cruel,” you know you’ve started rambling the moment your hands go flying here and there to give emphasis to your speech. “I know it’s not my place to judge, and I’m sorry if I do. I should probably shut my mouth, so if I’m crossing  a line, feel free to slap me, but Jesus, he enrages me!” 

The light in Beth’s eyes slowly dimmed, not because of your opinion of Mark, but at the realization of all the things you were only now allowing yourself to voice out loud. You were always so calm, so composed, probably for the sake of the family. She had been like that so she knew what it felt like. So she lets you continue, despite wanting nothing more than cupping your cheeks and kissing all your worries away. 

“I can’t stand it when he keeps letting her down. I see how it hurts her. How can he not notice? And Lizzie, gosh, she is still young, but someday she will ask questions about why her dad is hardly ever and then guess what? You’re gonna be the one picking up the pieces, again, and it’s not fair. It’s just not fair, Beth,” you stopped abruptly, feeling short of breath. 

Beth’s hand is still on your face. “Hey, it’s okay, trust me, I know. And it’s perfectly normal for you to feel that way, and you know why?” You looked up at her, frowning confusedly. She, on the other hand, gave you the calmest, most genuine smile to ever exist. How did she have an answer for everything? “Because you’re the closest thing to a parent for the girls. You feel responsible for them, you care for them in a way that– I swear, it moves me like nothing else. When something goes wrong, you’re there for them, you help them out, you make them laugh. It’s not just me. You pick up the pieces as much as I do and you don’t even see it.” 

“But—“ you still try to object meekly. 

Her response is categorical, yet there is fondness in her voice. “No buts.” 

For a second you just sit there awkwardly, looking adorably conflicted in Beth’s eyes. Then she chuckles, and despite the sound of it, there’s something sad flashing in her eyes. “Listen to me very carefully. I felt so lonely, for a really long time. Even before all that happened with Danny. But then I met you,” she paused, voice filling with raw and vivid emotion. “And I just— you showed me what it means to be seen, to be alive, and feel like a teenager in love who’s afraid of nothing and enthusiastic at everything.” A single tear wets your cheek; you don’t even notice, not until her thumb brushes against your skin. “You gave me another chance at falling in love and, my dear, how I love being in love with you,” her smile wobbled, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest. Butterflies tickling your stomach, up to your throat. 

You have so many things to tell her, yet nothing could ever top her speech, or match your feelings. “Beth, I–” How to describe a love so colossal as yours with only a lifetime at your disposal? She looked at you as if she knew, though. “I love you. I love you so, so much,” you leaned closer to her, adhering your forehead against hers, delicately brushing the tip of her nose with yours. “You’re everything to me, and the girls, you’re right– they feel like mine, egotistically speaking.” She smiled amusedly at that, slightly shaking her head, “They are yours,” she assures.

You hummed, in thought. “I just wish I could do more for you and Chloe, but sometimes all I feel is this sense of worthlessness inside.” 

Beth’s brows furrowed almost painfully, “which is ridiculous,” she placed a hand upon your chest, gently pulling away so that she could see your eyes better, and get these crazy ideas out of your system, somehow. “The girls adore you, you hear me? I do. So much my heart could burst any moment for all the love I feel for you.” She is so cute when she is all flustered. Once again, you find her fingertips raking through your hair, to better expose your face, the face of the woman she couldn’t do without. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met, so please, treat yourself with kindness, or else…” 

You gasped, when leaning closer, Beth nibbled on your skin instead of kissing your cheek like you had expected, “Oi! You bit me!”

She grinned, eyebrows shooting up amusedly, “you deserved that.”

“Maybe I did,” you conceded, sweeping your tongue over your lips. She caught the movement with her eyes, and her mouth suddenly went dry. 

“Kiss me, Beth.” You were sure that the sky was devoid of any stars that night, and yet, you could bet to see a constellation in her hazel eyes as soon as you came with that whispered request. A smile creeps up to her face, those cute little wrinkles in the corner of her eyes widen, making her look even more beautiful. 

She drew closer, holding onto your jacket, her jacket, her lips parting but still not touching yours, “ask me again,” her teasings are so deliciously irresistible. 

You moaned, the sound though is destined to muffle in her mouth, and you can’t wait. “Kiss me, Beth. Please, just kiss me.” 

She clings to you in a way that makes you feel all warm inside. She is gentle, yet there’s a side of her that’s also possessive and needy. And that turns you on so much. The thought of her needing you as much as you needed her darkened your eyes and you couldn’t help that. 

She chased your lips, hands tangling in your hair, and breaths coming short and uneven within seconds. 

You were wrong before to think there were no stars that night. Suddenly your vision was filled with them. Luminous, unreal tiny dots everywhere. Shining bright into her eyes, her smile, echoing in the sound of her lips popping and crashing against yours.

“You shine so bright, Beth,” At your confession, she whimpers, head gets lighter, to the point that she feels like floating. To keep balance, she pulls you even closer, holding on to you for dear life. She pushes her tongue past your lips, crashes against yours, fights for dominance. She takes all the oxygen and you’re more than happy to end up breathless for her. 

Her voice sends you a tingle, “If I shine, I do it for you,” her hands slide to your middle, guiding you to crawl on top of her. As she says that, the kiss deepens even more and you giggle, both for what she just said, and by the tip of her tongue expertly lapping at the inside of your mouth. 

Her back gently leans against the doorframe as you lie on top of her as she asked. After that, a silly idea comes up to your mind so you lift your jacket over your heads, creating a little love nest. 

“We look like two crazy teenagers,” Beth stifled a laugh. 

You nodded your head, pecking at her nose. “Imagine if Chloe saw us. Busted by your daughter,” she chuckled again and started playing with the tips of your hair. 

“Well, I think she would sue us to the police for having traumatized her,” the way she said that, so seriously, and without the slightest doubt causes both your eyes and mouth to part open in horror. 

When Beth bursts into a fit of giggles, you realize she was just teasing you. What a pushover you are. What a tease she is.

“Ha, ha! Very funny, Beth,” you said sarcastically. 

“You have to admit it is,” she trailed off, cheekily. 

Before you can reply to that, the front door swings open, causing Beth to slide rearward, and with you still on top of her, her hands tightened around your middle on instinct as the two of you squealed.

“What are you two— oh. Oh!” Chloe’s voice is filled with amusement as she puts two and two together. “On the porch, mom? Really?” 

“It wasn’t like–!” You objected, heat rushing to your cheeks. Then you freeze, while Beth’s heart fills with such tenderness, in the fact of what has just happened. Her mouth parts ajar, the corners slightly up. 

You looked at her, utterly in awe. Then at Chloe. Slowly, almost mechanically. She spoke to you. Not Beth. It was you who called mom.

Beth can’t help the tears pricking at her eyes. 

You realize Beth can’t really get up, not before you do it first. You blink repeatedly, still feeling all flustered and confused by everything that just happened within minutes, before clumsily pulling yourself up, and then helping Beth on her feet as well. 

You need to be sure, so you ask Chloe, “did you call me—?”

Chuckling nervously, she stutters out, “Mom, yeah. Uhm... sorry, it came out so naturally. If you don’t want me to–” 

You’re quick to interject, seeing where this is going, “Oh no, no, no. No, I do,” your voice rises several octaves all of the sudden. Chloe hardly stifles a laugh at your demeanor, while Beth’s hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, in reassurance. You cleared your throat then, “if it feels right to you, so it does to me.” 

“Really? Cool,” a wave of sudden embarrassment colored her pale cheeks, but that didn’t prevent her from smiling at you. “We still have fifteen minutes till the end of the episode, so whenever you two are ready–” she grinned, before vanishing into the house again. 

You’ve never felt so lightheaded before. Of a good kind, obviously. 

“Did that actually happen?”

“Sure sounds like it,” echoed Beth, with a grin, before pressing a soft, chaste kiss above your lips. She leans into you, as you walk inside again. Heart lighter and happier. With her fingers still curled with yours, your thumb traces slow patterns over the back of her hand. 

“What were you watching?” She asks, pulling you on her lap as she flops down the couch next to Chloe, who grabbed the remote. 

“Ah you know–” you mused, “There’s this guy, really cool, thick eyebrows, good heart, who travels through space and time in a police box.”

Beth laughs lightly, “that sounds silly. What’s his name?”

Chloe scolds her softly, “It’s not silly, it’s sci-fi, mom.” 

“Name’s Doctor, by the way,” you grinned from ear to ear, impatiently waiting for her to say the next words. 

Both you and Chloe exchange a knowing glance before bursting out laughing at Beth’s confused frown and question, “Doctor who?”

[geeky-nightphilosopher]

Oh, don't mind me- I'm just trying to build a story about how when Parker was the master mind and Eliot was running ragged to help him relax (and sleep/doze,) she'd play with his hair. Eliot's sitting on the floor with his head on her lap and hair fanned over her jeans. All the while Hardison is sitting beside Parker playing computer games, his knee pressed against Eliot's shoulder.

Eliot's humming/purring and Hardison is slowly falling asleep and leaning closer, until eventually Hardison's head is on Parker's shoulder. And Parker is happy and content because she's safe and her boys are happy...

Is this sappy? Ridiculous? Has this been done before?

*sigh*

Maybe I won't write it...

[harmonizingsunsets]

But if I hold on tight, is it true? Would You take care of all that I do?

Oh Lord, I'm getting ready to believe.

[bookishlyvintage]

05/02 pub day: The Half Moon, Mary Beth Keane

[full thoughts] This book is about a couple that split, but they somehow find their way back to one another indirectly. The bar Half Moon is the main topic of this book, and infertility is kind of the secondary topic. Long chapters & a slow pace, but an interesting read overall

[mishkakagehishka]

But i can respect alcott for sequel-baiting in the first part of little women ngl

[juuuuunaaaaaooooo]

Brio - Beanie Or Not Beanie (Ao3 -Os)

English Version

Version Française

[jerry-enthusiast]

Beth and Jerry relationship theory

!DISCLAIMER; THIS IS NOT CONFIRMED, IT IS SIMPLY A THEORY!

(This is a liiittle long I'm sorry-)

Hello my fellow fellas ladies and my enby babes! Today I have a theory on- Ah fuck it, you read the title, let's do this.

Season 2 episode 7 of Rick and Morty; Big Trouble in Little Sanchez. If you haven't seen the episode, please do watch it to know what I'm explaining.

In the beginning of this episode we saw Jerry and Beth get dropped off by Rick to marriage counseling for being across the universe (most likely, anyway) while he goes off and transfers his mind to the body of a teenager. The usual, normal stuff at this point.

I want to talk about the first mythologs we see of Beth and Jerry. We saw that Jerry had imagined Beth as some horrifying giant Xenomorph, and Beth imagined Jerry as a meek and cowardly worm. The fact that they were codependent later in the episode terrified the counselor, because that is not supposed to happen. Remember what the counselor said earlier; "We are not the monsters we see each other as." I can see why he was horrified they were codependent, because that means in reality, yes, something fucked up is going on in their marriage. He had also said; "Your marriage shouldn't even exist!", because it was that bad.

I want you to take a good minute and think about what certain types of marriages shouldn't exist.

...

Yeah, we're all thinking it. What the fuck goes on when we're not viewing the show? What goes on behind the screen?

[fandomwe1rd0]

How I imagine watching a movie with the Smith/Sanchez family would be like

Rick: It would be absolute torture, he would either drink too much and sleep through the whole thing while snoring loudly, or he would overanalyze everything, point out every plothole no matter how small, or explain how the movie isn't scientifically accurate and just suck all of the fun out of watching it.

Morty: He'd probably not talk a lot, maybe making small commentaries every now and then, but for the most part, he'd stay quiet and overall it would be very enjoyable

Beth: She would probably make snarky and sarcastic commentary, and would probably sarcastically point out plotholes, if you don't mind that, it'd probably be fun, she would either do that or drink a LOT of wine.

Space Beth: Same as domestic Beth, but she would probably rush through a lot of the movie because she doesn't have time to watch a movie, she's gotta go save the galaxy!

Summer: She would make snarky and sarcastic comments like her mom, like mother like daughter.

Jerry: He would probably be quiet and make some awkward jokes every now and then, but overall it would be enjoyable.

[brooklynislandgirl]

@alegitlegend {{xx}}

Even with the person holding the gun being an old friend, someone loved and admired no matter the time or the distance, a normal person should feel a kick of adrenaline and choose flight over fight. A sane person should at least flinch and try to find some sort of cover. That Beth doesn't do any of these things might speak to her record of valour with the NYPD, or maybe point to the fact that the psychological tests didn't pick up on something dark and deeply buried within. Or maybe it just speaks on the trust she has for Steve despite the darker emotions that cling to his bones and make blue eyes nearly midnight. Thankfully, perhaps her display provoked the easing of tense shoulders. Maybe he's choosing to admonish her verbally rather than physically, not that Steve would ever hurt a woman if he didn't have to. Seeds of that came from their youth, the tension between his parents, and what he saw in the aftermath of her own home. She thinks now that it was one of the things the boys had bonded over while their younger sisters remained hopefully ignorant. Not that she's ever brought it up over the last few weeks. The overhead lights limn his muscles as he puts his side arm away, fluid and practised. The sigh speaks to her more than anything else as it digs into her for having startled him for taking liberty a touch too far. "Only because you're too tall. Too long-limbed." The moment stretches and Steve seems to come to his own conclusions. The tension doesn't exactly drain out of him but rather redistributes itself. It lodges in his brow. Tightens itself along his jawline. Wraps itself around his voice even when he decides to needle her a little, and for that she forgives as easily as taking a breath. The corner of her mouth ticks upwards and brings the smallest bit of notice to the tiny freckles that sprinkle that part of her face as well as the bridge of her nose. She shrugs nonchalantly. "I mean, yeah? Have you been gone so long, you forget how we do da kine, local style?" A tiny dip into her native pidgin. She can't help but wonder if he still remembers or if the Navy stripped that part of him away. "Good. I...I didn't want to bring it up at work. I mean every one seems so close but whatever's eating at you doesn't feel like something you'd want to air in public. And I'm sorry for just letting myself in. Old habits though." She turns away and makes her way to the fridge where she pulls out on of the Longboards and opens it, handing him the lager. "Start with that, then maybe later we can move on to coffee or something stronger." She pours herself a glass of wine next, taking a sip before setting the glass down and going to get plates, forks and the like. As she putters around the kitchen it almost looks like she belongs there. As if this is some kind of nightly ritual between them that has bloomed over the years. Beth doesn't seem to notice though and hums a favourite song under her breath. Not that she seems aware when she gives the salad a toss to make sure all parts of it are equally distributed. She glances at him softly over her shoulder "Wanna eat in the kitchen? Living room? Mebbe out on the back lanai?"

[hazelnut-u-out]

If Beth ever looks Rick dead in the eyes— in all seriousness; with full hatred or disgust— and calls him ‘Rick’ instead of ‘Dad’… go ahead and order my casket.

[mongreldyke]

nothin' quite like how a dog loves

let dead dogs lie - silas denver melvin // red dog - elizabeth frink // how to be a dog - andrew kane // domestication syndrome - dhole b // no origin found // for your own good - leah horlick // it will come back - hozier // pleasure - beth cavener // i am a dog. i have blood all over my teeth. - sciencedfiction // same poem as directly previous

[userm4x]

"gap 3.6 😶"

"STOP TALKING 😡 IN THE BRAKING 🤬"

"please 😟 no talking 😣 im in the braking 😫"

"understood 😐"