#crying into our soups

[gaypirates-gayangels-gaywizards]

Think about it… In only a few hours we will have a whole new song that will simultaneously break our hearts and become THE song that we remember S2 by.

IT ALREADY EXISTS OUT THERE

WE HAVE ALL PROBABLY HEARD IT BEFORE. MULTIPLE TIMES!!!!

BUT TOMORROW IT WILL TAKE ON WHOLE NEW MEANING AND BE PLAYED AT DIFFERENT TIMES IN DIFFERENT COUNTRIES ALL AROUND THE WORLD WHILST WE ALL SOB AS ONE!

TOMORROW AN ARTIST WILL WONDER WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED AND WHY THEIR DECADES/YEARS OLD SONG IS SUDDENLY AT THE TOP OF STREAMING LISTS AND WHY THEY ARE BEING TAGGED ON SOCIAL MEDIA BY THOUSANDS OF SOBBING HYSTERICAL GAYS.

SOOOOOOOON….

[ralnex]

What if though, what if after Calypso's birthday, lying there sweaty and sticky after Ed got railed so good he's still crying a little. He's curled into Stede, clinging on, and he looks up at him, and he tries to say it, he wants to, but it's still the scariest three words in the universe right now, too vulnerable. He's choking a bit as he says "Stede, I...I..." Throat closing on his words, and Stede just leans in, kisses him on the forehead and whispers "I know. I know that."

[randomwords247]

Cooking and baking

A small pet peeve of mine with cooking and baking is when recipes say the container rather than the amount

Like, instead of saying "500ml of cream" you say "a pot of cream". Or "a whole can of corn". Like okay which kind of can??? What amount???? Corn comes in more than one size you can't just tell me a can. PLEASE i am begging you tell me the WEIGHT

This is especially a problem with recipes from different countries, for example America. Because your stick of butter is different to our butter. STOP SAYING STICK OF BUTTER TELL ME THE QUANTITY IN GRAMS PLEASE I HAVE A FAMILY

that being said I feel like I see this crop up in like american recipes in particular. Idk if I've ever seen a recipe in one of our cookbooks that does this....

anyway please just tell me the gosh darn weight I am dying here I have a family I JUST NEED TO KNOW THE WEIGHT

[helloiamunwell]

the first thing ed thinks of when he's asked what he likes about life is warmth, meanwhile stede is out there with fluffy towels and hot soup and no guys i'm not okay

[fruitydiaz]

holding onto my tiniest joys as hard as i can

[theclearblue]

Car-less. Laptop-less. Bitch-less. I have nothing left to my name

[magnusthepuppet]

im so desperate for season 2 i’ve begun making tureen memes…

[itsalwaysdark]

bedtime nowww probably ummm today qas not what i wanted it 2 be but its fine. i dont feel negative just a very very very numb day which is almost worse. but only almost 🙏

[salsflore]

i found happiness in 1 cup of boba and god decided to punish me for it tenfold

[goldenhourhimbo]

.

[caffeinatedopossum]

My life really is an angst fanfiction

[andromedasummer]

thats now both green party co-leaders who've been injured by anti-abortion chuds. james shaw back in 2019 when that moron came across him out on the street and decked him, fracturing the bone around his eye. now, marama davidson being sideswiped while protesting for trans rights and bodily autonomy by a destiny church members' motorbike. destinys church being there to support the rally of a woman just as anti-trans, anti-abortion and anti-general human rights as they are.

[ralnex]

Thinking about Ed in the gravy basket and his three reasons for living.

Thinking about the glimpses we get of Ed as a child; living in a cold and drafty shack with insufficient clothing, eating whatever they could afford to, with a dad who punished him for being "soft" (no doubt standing in for a much stronger word).

Ed's formative years he was always cold, hungry and being told he would never have love.

[leftclown]

😭😭😭

[muchmossymess]

We can just be all poetic and shit and lose our minds together

[seat-safety-switch]

I don't know if you've ever been to Paris before, but I recommend going. Normally, I would not have gone, but I made a really rich enemy on IRC and he spent a lot of money to have me kidnapped and brought to his home country. While I was there, I got to try a bunch of restaurants (they're hostage-takers, not barbarians) and came away impressed. Something was missing, though, and herein is my genius idea.

In Paris you can get any kind of food. Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese, Thai: and it's all good. All of it. You literally can't find a bad restaurant. At one point, I walked into a convenience store and got a plate of one-Euro nachos that made me cry at the beauty of the arrangement.

Everyone around me was taking this for granted. Having lived there for years, their quality threshold had crept invisibly upwards until nothing could impress again. They needed something to re-calibrate their sense of truly bad food. That's where I came in. After I got kicked out of the country, I decided to come back with some investor support. I can burn cereal, usually by roasting it gently with a blowtorch on the top of an old gas can. Investors were easy to find.

Our first week of opening was tremendous. Hardened Parisians were discovering their first taste of truly incompetent food. The novelty of it all had captured them. There's just one problem, though: after making an entire lunch rush's feast of poorly-cut toast in reheated canned soup, my cooking skills began to improve from sheer experience. The complaints began to change tone. You got too good, they cried, you're not the same bad chef we once loved. Again, I was deported.

I looked out the window of the plane as it left De Gaulle, staring down onto the beautiful streets of Paris. Down there, I imagined, real gourmets were now eating food out of trash cans out of desperation to recapture what they had experienced with me. If there is one nice thing to be said, I now have two Michelin Stars here in my homeland of Canada, where my consommé-and-grilled-cheese recipe is now so much better than most of our restaurants that it made the Prime Minister Herself come and spit in my face for ruining the economy, before awarding me an Order of Canada. It's not the same.