#SUBURBS WHERE????

[peninsulaisms]

what are we even doing here guys

[dappermouth]

It passed outside your window on a night you couldn't sleep — a phantom burning black against the house across the street.

[bauliya]

being raised in the city means that an unobstructed horizon genuinely makes me feel anxious. what is this. why is it so empty. I feel like I’m going to fall.

[houseswife]

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

[hollymacycomic]

Holly & Macy and Everyone Else

Chapter 4: Page 47

Start at the Beginning | About the comic | Tip-jar 

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Holly & Macy will update twice this week. Check back on Saturday for page 48.

[arsonmurderandjaywalking]

I'm only on like chapter 4 but I really like the way Migi to Dali is handling the idea of irrational childhood fears when experienced by two twelve-year-olds with seemingly very little interaction with normal human society. like why WOULD the twins know what wigs are and why people have them? they don't need them to survive! they're completely superfluous! I don't think they've had much space for superfluous things. they're used to everything being a life-or-death matter with only each other and their wits to save them. thinking the parents are going to steal their hair and then make their escape on what looks to be a biplane is a very twelve-year-old thought process, but it makes sense that they would immediately assume they're in danger.

[creativitycache]

Alright apparently I’m now outnumbered in my small office for not carrying anything defensive like pepper spray, a taser, or a metal baton every day.

[darling-gemini]

Palasaki brainrot is real

[tender-traps]

whumpee getting sold to someone new and whumper telling the worst lies they can think of about the buyer just to watch whumpee panic one more time

[dennisboobs]

i dont know what this is but i've noticed it

[flying-ham]

fr tho its always sunny in philidelphia and spongebob are the same show in different fonts

[coralreeferband]

It’s the thirst for violence that is so extreme that freaks me out

Like I have never thought this way not once and everyone I know would find this appalling and bizarre

But then there are people out there who think it’s correct to kill anyone who they perceive to be “not American”

[bizarre-brew]

The Lobo family.

[kedreeva]

saw a monarch butterfly on a milkweed plant for the first time in my life and it was like seeing a little legend play out before my eyes

[dreamertrilogys]

there’s a lot of posts on how white suburbs are deeply awful + filled w ppl unable to conceptualize a world outside their own bubble + steeped in racism etc. which obviously is true and all but as someone who’s personally seen many suburbs filled w/ diff ethnic groups (not functionally diverse suburbs just for example suburb 1 filled entirely w chinese immigrants, 2 filled w only pakistanis, etc) the overall results aren’t much better. like at the end of the day the issue lies not in the whiteness of suburban residents but rather the way their lifestyles (car dependancy -> can’t go anywhere else/see other ppl, have never sat on the bus and seen regular ppl etc) allow them to genuinely live their entire lives in an extremely minuscule bubble of homogenous ppl who look & live (esp economically!!!) exactly like them

[lumenera]

Gregor + 32!

32. Pierre (Ryn Weaver)

He's kinda quiet but his body ain't Spent the days dreaming and the nights awake

Virginia is nothing like New York City. It buzzes with a different kind of life: a thick, sweltering heat that lingers even after the sun goes down, the ever present droning of a million insects. It's a cicada summer, something common enough for the area, but this year is special. Two of the periodical cycles have coincided so that millions of them will appear all at once.

Lucky them.

"You get used to it," her cousin Rachel had said. Easy for her to say. It's been three weeks, and Lizzie is still very much not used to it. It's not the noise that bothers her, though. It's the fact she can't go three or more steps without nearly stepping on one, and the humidity is so bad her skin always feels perpetually wet. A Southern cicada summer, indeed.

She wishes she could sleep. Everything is just a little bit off—room too warm, blankets too rough, pillow too soft. She tosses and turns and tosses some more before finally giving up. All of the books their family owns are in the living room. Maybe that will help.

She tiptoes past the other bed, where Boots lies fast asleep, and eases the door open, then gingerly makes her way down the stairs, just in time to see someone else slip out the front door.

It's Gregor.

Lizzie makes her way to the window to peek through the slats just in time for her brother to disappear behind the barn. What is he doing at this hour? Other than the obvious; there's only one person taking the move worse than she is, and it's him. Either he sleeps a lot or not at all.

Should she go after him? Where would he have gone? What would she even say? She—

The sound of something scrapes across the gravel. Gregor's retrieved the ladder they keep leaned against the backside. Then, making sure the legs are firmly planted on the ground, he begins to climb, slowly, carefully, up to the roof of the barn.

Lizzie tries to tug the slats a little wider, but the wood won't give, so she pushes the blinds a little higher, eyes fixed on the small figure on the roof.

What is he doing. Gregor's fully on the roof now; he eases himself down to lie on his back. Folds his arms over his chest. Lizzie can't tell if his eyes or closed or not, but he doesn't move save the slight rise and fall of his chest.

The heat doesn't seem to bother him, nor the bugs, and, strangest of all, he's traded his customary long sleeved shirt and pants for a t-shirt and shorts. When's the last time she saw him wearing those? Uncovered, his scars almost glow, wrapping around his arms and continue further up underneath the sleeves.

Every mark tells a story of its own. Every mark is another thing that separates her from her brother: all the things that she will never experience, all the things he will never forget.

Gregor's never felt so far away.