#between me and you

[physigils]

What’s going on with you and The Puppet Master?

They lean back and chuckle. “Depends on what you mean. I’ll say the easier thing, though.”

“He wants to take over the world, best put, I guess. I wanna just get by, and if he’s in charge, I think I’ll be fine. We work well together.”

[allo-frouto]

If we were dating, I’d marry you and treat you like the queen you are, getting to wake up next to you every morning would be heaven. I’d wake you up with a kiss on both pairs of lips and a cup of coffee and after our morning sex session, breakfast and cuddles until the next round.

I don't settle for less.

[lostinfic]

I’m learning a lot about Italy during WWII for someone who just wanted to write UST to a 1940s soundtrack.

[spiderliliez]

Kaya Blocksage (as the soon-to-be Bride) Barbara Probst (as the Escort) From the short film, “Bachelorette Party” BETWEEN ME & YOU (2021) [+] LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈

[backtothestart02]

Between Me and You - 1/1 | Snowshoe fanfiction

A/N: Was inspired by Grant and Chris's short film and decided to write up a little scene that takes place before it. Enjoy.

...

Synopsis: Cal and his mother discuss Kevin prior to the brothers meeting up.

...

“Cal.”

He watched as the light from his mother’s eyes faded slightly before she stepped back to let him into the house. He told himself not to take it too hard. After all, her struggle was his. They both wished he had been someone else in that moment, or that it hadn’t only been him.

“I…wasn’t expecting you today.”

He smiled weakly.

“I thought we could have lunch, spend some time catching up.”

Her smile turned regretful.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much in the fridge for cooking with.”

“If I remember right, you do still have frozen pizzas stocked in the freezer though. In case…”

He stopped, frozen, hoping his mother wouldn’t finish his sentence.

“In case Kevin comes back,” she said softly, almost emotionless. “Have you heard from him?” she asked, hopeful now.

Cal shook his head and slipped out of his shoes and coat before heading down the hall and into the kitchen, his mother trailing behind him.

“Not for months. He won’t return my calls.”

“Mine either,” his mother said, and it just about killed him.

It was bad enough when his own depression escalated to the point he could barely crawl out of bed and get dressed in order to get to work on a good day, but the fact that he knew their mother also shared that struggle, and it had been getting worse since their father passed away two years ago made it all the worse.

He knew Kevin was busy, thriving even, and completely void of any such mental illness, but the least he could do was check on his mother. Cal was getting worried about her, which only amped up his own depression. It’d gotten better recently though. With the meds.

“Maybe he’s met someone,” she said, hopefully. “Last time you talked, you said he told you about a girl, right? Rachel, was it?”

His lips lifted up into another attempted smile.

“That’s right.”

“Maybe things have gotten serious. I could do with some grandchildren now that you two are all grown up.”

And Cal felt a stab of guilt. Not for his brother this time but himself. He hadn’t had time to find a special someone of his own, let alone think of bringing kids into the world to keep his mother occupied for who knows how long, maybe not since he got out of college years ago. His depression had been holding him down, keeping him hostage, keeping him focused on his pain or his mother’s pain at his brother’s distance, his absence, his clear disregard for the people he’d left behind that he supposedly loved.

“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean…”

She covered her hand over her son’s, and he smiled. For her.

“It’s alright. Maybe you’re right. Maybe things have gotten serious between them.”

She nodded and settled onto a stool while he moved away to find ingredients for lunch. Silence settled between them, giving him time to think, to obsess, to plan.

“Mmm, something smells good,” his mother said sometime later, and he looked down at the dish he’d crafted on the stove.

“Almost done,” he said.

“Smells cheesy,” she declared.

“Mac’n cheese. With veggies.”

“Your favorite!”

When I was a kid, he thought, but he chose not to point that out. A genuine smile had finally reached his mother’s eyes.

“Yep.”

He turned off the heat, brought out two bowls, and dished out some of the pasta into both dishes. Then he fished out two spoons from the silverware drawer and grabbed the salt. Somehow he managed to take all of it to his mother in one trip.

“Blow on it. It’s hot,” he warned.

She blew on it daintily and took a hesitant bite.

“Mmm, tastes good.”

He gently nudged the saltshaker closer to her, and she chuckled. He declared that a victory inwardly.

“You know me too well.”

Of course he did. He’d stuck to her like glue the past few years. He knew she was a glutton for punishment, particularly when it came to her salt intake.

“I thought I saw some milk in the fridge,” he remarked, turning away while she dumped salt onto her noodles.

“Yes, I bought some the other day.”

Without being asked, he fished around in the fridge for the white drink and brought it out, filling two glasses for the both of them.

“Mmm, so good,” she said after taking another bite. This time he knew she meant it and grinned.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Silence settled again as they ate, and Cal let his mind wander back to Kevin and all his missed calls, missed texts, and his poor mother always disappointed when it was him who came to the door instead of his brother.

She didn’t favor Kevin, he knew that. She just didn’t like when her family wasn’t whole, and neither of them had seen Kevin for years, except his one chance encounter with him about six months ago. But that had been short-lived.

“I’m thinking of paying Kevin a visit,” he finally said, and his mother looked up at him, surprised and delighted.

“That sounds nice. Maybe you could convince him to come home? Just for a visit, of course. I don’t expect him to shift his whole life just for me.”

Cal’s heart ached at those words.

“I’ll give it my best shot,” he said, and they returned to their meals.

[kiwikoopa]

when brandon flowers said "i feel like ive got nothing to show for this that ive been living and i been wondering, what am i supposed to do?" he sucker punched me right in the gut

[marlynnofmany]

If that doesn't have potential for some fairytale nonsense, I don't know what does.

[cozylittleartblog]

i dont know how to explain it but joining extremely small fandoms with only a few people in them feels like this

[xamitras]

For many of years I had this tradition of drawing Wirt and the beast once a year to see how much I have improved, then depression hit in 2023 and couldn't continue, but it left so really amazing art in the process

[druid-for-hire]

[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]

a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”

[physigils]

What does "waded in his iris to my knees" mean, and how does it relate to the puppet master?

l wkuhz wkh iluvw sxqfk, vhqw klp wkh iluvw ohwwhu

frph gdzq, kh ehjjhg ph sohdvh oryh, qhyhu ohdyh

[inbabylontheywept]

I was walking out of the Walmart today, and a car passed me, and I got this incredibly vivid impression. It wasn't really in words, but if I had to put it into words, the two key points would be

a). I needed to watch that car and

b). That I needed to be careful, because the driver of the car was a massive bitch.

It kind of took me by surprise, because I really had no reason to be beefing with that car, and I also hadn't really had an impression like that since I was religious, which was in my teen years. Right? It'd been a decade since I had a little voice whisper in my ear, and I'd basically written it off as nonsense.

Anyway, I watched the car, because The Spirits or whatever were very insistent that I did. Car drove fine, went into the parking spot, inched forward, and right when it should've just stopped, the driver gunned it for some reason and it ran into the curb and cracked its bumper.

So, the driver got out, and she went to the front of the car to check that yes, she had cracked her bumper, and then she turned to look at me. The parking lot wasn't empty, but we were the only two people standing in that row, and I'd probably been staring at her for tenish seconds now.

She demanded very angrily to know why I hadn't warned her of the curb. And I could have said I didn't know you were about to gun it or is it my job to help every stranger park, or even could you have even heard me, inside your car?

And all of those would have been fine, but I was really, really busy digesting that I had somehow communed with Mormon Jesus again for the first time in fifteen years, and that the communion had mostly been there to let me watch someone park badly (?), so what I responded with was:

"Because it was foretold."

And I can't tell which would be funnier, if she went silent because there's not much to be said to that, or if she went silent because in Utah, she might actually believe me, but we parted ways without more words.

I'm still kind of digesting this myself, actually.

[midnight-coffee94]

No single line has ever wrecked me as hard as this one from the Good Place and I think about it constantly

[malenjoyer]

WE'RE SO BACK

[cryptocism]

"just as I did, in 1983."

you'd never know my favourite parts of the show are the fucked up insane bits when my first instinct is to draw the cheesiest thing imaginable

[perfectlyripeclementine]

calling my lover "mine" but not in the way that my toothbrush or notebook are mine, mine in the way my neighborhood is mine, and also everybody else's, "mine" like mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love. "mine" not like possession but devotion.