This Year by The Mountain Goats // Dishes in the Sink by David Showalter
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not to be pissy but when your older sibling who is your roommate tells you in an asshole-y way to do something (that you specifically find disgusting) because they find it disgusting rn (because of their own actions) instead of trying to ask you as an equal….. well.
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Dishes - Matt Bollinger , 2021.
American, b. 1980 -
Flashe and acrylic on canvas, 28 x 36 in. 71.1 x 91.4 cm.
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listen I honestly think wilson really enjoyed that little arc where he was cooking every single one of house’s meals. I know he’s house’s main source of food anyway but usually just via ‘stolen’/bought lunch at work. I’m talking about when they lived together in season 2 and his ass made macadamia nut pancakes for breakfast on a WEEKDAY. and pot roast for dinner. so much effort and for what…because house was gobbling that shit up…? yes he complained about it every time but he also had an extra fork on hand when house came home to stuffed peppers. it feeds into his need to be needed complex. the intimate dependency of someone relying on you for sustenance. also why they used food as the metaphor for why house was craving his presence. this is what I mean when I say that wilson deserved a housewife era. house went stir crazy within like 12 seconds of doing all their chores because he requires Stimulation™️ but I’m completely convinced that it would act as enrichment for wilson. if I told him to go make me a sandwich he’d roll his eyes and then passive aggressively make a delicious one. actually that literally happened in son of a coma guy. case closed
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Day 27 of befriending the borrowers in my house. I might regret giving them free rein of the kitchen.
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sans #110
sans helps papyrus reach the high up shelf.
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View from the kitchen window , March - Melissa Scott Miller , 1989.
British , b. 1959 -
Oil on canvas
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Today sucked.
Got yelled at by a homophobe. Someone tried to hack my mychart. I’m on hour 28 of this migraine. And now there’s a thunderstorm. My Achilles tendinitis is throbbing from power walking away from the homophobe.
But do you know the thing that broke me? Hobbling into the kitchen and seeing dishes everywhere. That’s it. That’s what broke me.
I’m crying over too many dishes in the sink.
Out of any of the other things my brain could have chosen to be the tipping point for this shitty day, my brain chose dishes.
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Louis Fratino (American, 1993), Eggs, Dishes, Coreopsis, 2020. Oil on canvas, 42 × 42 in.
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I love thinking about the little things Will and Hannibal would do for each other in their "very" post-fall/murder husbands life. Like Will making Hannibal a herb garden, Hannibal stealing a dog he thinks Will would like (or like I read in a fic, he risks his life to get Winston back for Will). Will building Hannibal a book nook or a small library in their shared home. Hannibal choosing a rustic home near a lake, "so you won't be too far away from me when you go fishing". Will trying his best to cook for Hannibal when he is sick or too hurt or tired. Hannibal making gourmet versions of Will's favorite snacks. Hannibal making Will his own cologne, because "this one enhances your natural scent without overpowering it", or hand washing Will's nicer clothes. Will learning how to properly wash their nice kitchenware, or letting Hannibal wash his hair, even though he takes too long, because "I know you like it so much". Anyway don't mind me dying.
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