#silken pasta

[phantomrose96]

I am honestly jealous of the fact that you like tofu enough to use it all the time. It's such a cheap and versatile food, and the things you make look so good, but I absolutely cannot stand the texture. Only exception is whatever it is some restaurants do to make cubes that are crispy on the outside and spongy, somewhat dry in the middle. Well, that and using a block of smooth tofu + a whole bag of chocolate chips to make cheesecake. That's the only thing I used it for at home. Pretty banger cheesecake and one of my favorite foods.

I do enjoy tofu in pretty much any form! which is nice as someone who's not eating any meat options lol.

BTW, that "spongy on the inside" tofu is achieved by freezing tofu and then thawing it! Crispy outside is likely fried. And I'm pretty sure some grocery stores do sell it in that form as "fried tofu" or "tofu puffs". Asian grocery stores most often have it.

I'm also a fan of the stuff you can do by blending silken tofu. I've made a lot of pasta sauces doing that, and I actually stocked up on the ingredients to make a chocolate mouse with it that I'm excited to try out.

[catierambles]

Blood Moon Ch.3

Pairing: Syverson x Annalisa Caulfield (OFC)

At some point Sy fell asleep on the couch listening to her talk to distributors and various contacts. She was straightforward when it came to business; didn't pull her punches, and didn't mince words. She took several more calls from "Eugene", and based on her side of the conversation, it sounded like he was one of the other owners of the clubs, or a general manager of sorts.

Sy woke feeling soft lips pressing softer kisses to his eyes, his nose, his cheeks and he reached up, his fingers sliding into silken hair as he guided her into a kiss that made him hum in contentment, the smell of cedar and sage filling his nose. The fact that she felt the same as he did, at least somewhat, reassured him that he wasn't just latching onto the first real female companionship he's had since his breakup.

“How'd you sleep?” She asked, keeping her voice low.

“This couch is comfy.” He said and she giggled, making him give a small smile.

“Figured you might be hungry, so I made an educated guess that you weren't a vegan or a vegetarian and made you baked ziti.”

“Marry me.” He said and she giggled again.

“Bit too soon for that, cowboy.” She said, pressing another soft kiss to his lips before she stood, letting his hand fall back to the couch. Opening his eyes, he scrubbed a hand over his face and beard. Might need to trim it soon. Accepting her offered hand, she helped haul him off the couch and he followed her out of the office and back down the stairs, heading into the kitchen at the back of the house.

The smell of baked pasta got stronger as they walked into the kitchen and she went over to the cabinets, grabbing a bowl and a serving spoon, and scooping a healthy amount of pasta into the bowl, the sight of the mozzarella stretching as she pulled making his mouth water. Sitting down on a stool at the butcher's block table in the middle of the room, pans hanging from a rack overhead, she put the bowl down in front of him along with a fork.

“Parmesan?” She asked.

“M'good.” He said, digging into the pasta. “Goddamn.”

“Good?”

“Very.” He said around a mouthful and she snorted. “You're not eatin'?”

“I grabbed something while you were asleep.” She said with a shrug. "You enjoy." There was a heavy knock at the door and she pushed up from her seat. "Stay. Eat." He watched her leave the kitchen before digging back into his bowl and heard the front door open. "Eugene."

"Wish you wouldn't call me that." He heard the male voice say and he took in a deep breath through his nose, the smell of expensive cologne and cheap cigars hitting his nostrils and making them wrinkle.

"It's your name."

"I prefer Renaud."

"You were Eugene when we met, and Eugene you shall stay." Annalisa said, "What's up?"

"You're not going to invite me in?"

"I have company over."

"Anyone I know?"

"No." She said simply.

"I'd rather not have this conversation on the porch or in front of a stranger."

"So text me."

"Annie." Eugene said and Sy heard her sigh.

"Come in, speak in terms." She said and he heard them came back through the house and into the kitchen. "Eugene, Sy. Sy, Eugene."

"Hey."

"You—" Eugene said, pausing. "You're the guy she left Bixby's with last night."

"How did you--"

"Oh for fucks sake, Eugene." Annalisa said, "What did I tell you about spying on me?"

"Only doing it with your safety in mind, Annie." Eugene said.

"Knock it off." She said, "What do you want that couldn't be talked about via text or a phone call?"

"We have a new list of donors for your consideration." Eugene said with a cautious look to Sy.

"Deep pockets for local charities." She explained, catching the question on Sy's face. "We vet them so we're certain they're not trying to use us as a front to launder money."

"Ah," Sy said, "Make a large donation to a charity they own through a shell company, it gets cleaned, they pocket it, and get to write it off on taxes."

"You got it." She said, "Anyone stand out?"

"A couple." Eugene said, "But they'll be dealing with you, so I know you'd want the final say."

"Any referrals?"

"One or two."

"I'll talk with them after Martin reiterates what "Non-Disclosure Agreement" means."

"An NDA?" Sy asked, "For charity?"

"Not uncommon with large donations done anonymously." She said, "Just in case they run into serious legal trouble, their attorneys can't parade their donations around as a sign of "good character". We vet them, but we don't always catch everything."

“Gotcha.” Sy said taking another bite of pasta.

“Where and when?” Annalisa asked.

“Pendulum. Tonight.” Eugene said and she nodded.

“Is that all?” She asked and he nodded, “This could have been a phone call.”

“I hate using those damn things.”

“I know, I know.” She said, “But you have to get with the times. I'll walk you out.” They left the kitchen again, heading for the front door.

“Really, Annie?” Eugene asked and his tone made Sy pause.

“What?”

“You made him dinner?”

“I like him. A lot.” She said, “I don't know, it's just...I don't know.”

“Just be careful, Annie.” Eugene said.

“I am, so stop spying on me, Eugene.” She said and he sighed.

“My name is—”

“I'm never calling you Renaud, get over it.” He left after that and she came back into the kitchen, sitting back down across from him at the table. “Seconds?” She asked, seeing his empty bowl.

“I didn't just wanna help myself.” He said and she snorted, grabbing his bowl and heading back over to the baking dish to get him more.

[risingwinter]

Vegan, autistic meals

As an autist working toward veganism, one of the trickiest things is finding recipes that don't take dozens of ingredients, more than half an hour, are texturally strange, or all of the above. What I would have loved at the beginning was the reminder that there are existing things we eat commonly that are either already vegan or easily made vegan. Examples below the cut.

"longevity soups": these usually incorporate sauteed vegetables (potatoes, carrots, celery, and the like) seasoned simply with salt, pepper, maybe some garlic and paprika and whatnot. Vegetable broth, tomato paste/stewed tomatoes/etc., cooked beans, and uncooked pasta are added and boiled until the pasta is tender. This one may take up to an hour but half of it is downtime. For those with gluten issues, you can skip the pasta, with bean issues you can skip the beans, add or replace with TVP, these are very flexible.

peanut butter and jelly: bread isn't inherently vegan, but it's a lot easier for it to be vegan I would remember. You don't need eggs or milk, just water and yeast and you'd be surprised how many breads are done that way. Maybe unique where I've been living, but there's always been a vegan option available in the store aisle. Similar note with pasta--most of the shelf-stable kinds just use water.

Asian recipes! So many of these, like peanut noodles, different varieties of chow mein, yakisoba, etc. A lot of Asian countries didn't grow on the same reliance western countries have had for animal products (insert caveat for fish) so I feel like there's a lot more easily-modified recipes to work with.

Salads: I used to imagine just leaf salads and that's not sufficient for getting your nutrients. What I've been making lately is a pasta salad with beans and chopped vegetables like cucumber, tomato, broccoli. I add some vinaigrette dressing with some salt when serving.

Notice the lack of vegan meats and cheeses. I love the growing availability of these, but they can take some getting used to as an autist and are not the same as their animal counterparts. Fake cheeses can really up the quality of the salads if you do want to try them, and fake burgers camouflage well with other burger condiments. I also love tofu, whether it's firm and fried or silken mapo tofu, and can be added to most recipes.

Hopefully this helps someone else either in their current journey or who wants to try dabbling. (Don't forget your B12, though.)

[bigmammallama5]

Silken tofu! You can blend it into like your tomato sauce for a pasta and shit like that.

Also take a look at indian cuisine, there's a lot that is just naturally vegan 🤷🏼‍♂️

Roasted edamame snacks are also supreme

I’ve never tried silken tofu but I’ve always wanted to, I can just never seem to find it in the stores I usually frequent. I’ll have to look harder for it! I do love indian food, and when I have the spoons I like to make a basic curry and look at different recipes from different parts of the country. Edamame is super tasty.

[certifiedceliac]

Silken Tofu Pasta Sauce (via The Hidden Veggies)

[jamesunderwater]

“so this is it?”

I am apparently in SOME KINDA MOOD right now because I really decided to take angst to the next level (((((: but here ya gooooo. cw: death.

James walked into the cold apartment, boxes and garbage bags where bookshelves and warm lamps and cozy furniture had been. Shadows climbed the walls, cast off from candles placed periodically on counters and across the remaining dining table, where once there’d been dinner parties and poorly made pasta and laughter over deep wine glasses.

“Hey, you.”

He turned around, and there she was. Standing in the darkness of the hallway like a centurion guarding the entrance to a room that was once his. Her long hair splayed across her shoulders, frizzy and unkempt, and her eyes carried dark circles beneath them. Still, she was gorgeous, standing there in a silken nightgown like it was just another night and they were just heading to bed.

“Lily,” he breathed, nearly choking on the sound. Before, that name had held infinite universes for him, had been the very sun around which he orbited. Now it was just a word, just another thing that could be snatched away without warning.

“Where have you been?” She asked, and the hurt in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees.

“Honey…we’ve talked about this, I can’t– I can’t stay here anymore.”

Her eyes filled with tears, then shifted suddenly to harried confusion. “Where is Harry? Where’s my baby?”

He was crying now, couldn’t remember when he’d started. If he stayed here much longer, there would be no getting out. “Harry’s fine, Lily, he’s fine. I had to…we had to go. Remember?”

She stared at the floor, trying to remember, then shook her head so violently her red hair whipped around her pale shoulders. “No, no, I don’t understand…”

“Lily–look at me, Lily,” James took a step closer, though he knew he shouldn’t. He had to go, but she was so lost, how could he leave her like this? She turned her eyes on him like he held all the promise in the world, like all of her hope was in his hands alone. “Lily…there was an accident, and you–you saved Harry, but…sweetheart…”

He was right in front of her now, and he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, how would he ever let go if he did, but he placed his hand where it should have met her cheek, and they both felt as it passed right through her.

She fell to the floor, wailing.

He sat with her as he’d done half a dozen times before, waiting for her breaths to steady. He would have done it a thousand times, his entire life, but this was killing him…and Harry deserved at least one of them.

“So…this is it?” She finally choked, tears streaming down her face, her eyes roving his, begging him for any other answer but this.

James knew that in doing this, he was cutting out a piece of his chest and leaving it behind in this hallway, in her hands. But a parent with half a heart was better than no parents at all, and if the roles had been reversed, Lily would have done it too. She would have left him. He could do this. He could be the man both of them needed.

“I love you, Lily. If you forget everything else, remember that.”

[she-is-healthy]

Favorite Meals

I'm learning to love food for all that it is, from the cooking process to how it nourishes my body. Being involved with fresh ingredients and mindfully preparing my meals helps with my propensity to binge, so here's a list of stuff I love to make 💚✨️

Vegan BL(s)T: Whole grain bread, vegan mayo (store-bought or homemade WFPB), spinach, tomato, marinated tofu "bacon"

Burrito Bowls: Shredded tofu, black beans, corn, tomato, red onion, garlic, jalapeño, lime, rice, taco seasoning

Air Fried Tempeh: Tempeh, vegan Buffalo sauce, panko bread crumbs

Dubu-jorim (banchan): extra firm silken tofu, soy sauce, garlic, gochugaru, brown sugar, sesame oil, green onion

Stir-Fry: Brown rice noodles, garlic, soy sauce, Sriracha, sugar, frozen veggie mix, soy curl "chicken"

Bibimbap: Brown rice, carrot, soybean sprouts, spinach, mushrooms, tofu, gochujang, soy sauce, sesame oil, black pepper

Pasta Salad: Chickpea pasta, vegan mayo, red onion, red bell pepper, peas, carrots, paprika, onion powder, black pepper

Cauliflower Wings: Purple cauliflower, flour, soy milk, spices of choice

Kimbap: Seaweed sheets, rice, sesame oil, pickled radish, spinach, carrots, fried tofu, vegan spam

I'll add more as I think of them!

[malina-33]

Single choice

Summary: It’s summer 2022, Nortern Italy, Miles and Alex are on vacation before The Car tour.

And they are happier than ever.

Word count: 3,5k

A/N: I missed the everyday cozy life of their relationship, so I wrote this :) Creative-crisis conversations presented as well, but they don’t take far away from the happy ending. Inspired by "Call me by your name", so for a better atmosphere, I advise you to include this playlist in the background.

Also, English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes, feel free to point them out to me!

Enjoy these two sweeties💕

The wide shirt's hem fluttered in the warm wind, three buttons at the top were casually undone, and the sleeves were carelessly rolled up to the elbows. Alex, covering his eyes, lay on a soft sun lounger under the shade of the terrace's arches of their small villa in Portofino, stretching out his long legs. His chest rose and fell slowly in sleep, while his hands rested relaxed on the armrests. Silken curls played with the gusts of breeze, but surrendering, they fell onto his face and tickled his nose, causing the man to unconsciously wrinkle it like a child.

Miles couldn't take his eyes off this literally biblical scene. "Taking Al away to the Italian Riviera for two weeks before the tour started was my best decision" the man thought smugly. Only God knew when they would be able to spend such peaceful time alone again, without rushing anywhere and hiding from anyone. And now, leaning against a marble column with his hands folded on his chest, Kane smiled until wrinkles formed around his eyes, unable to believe what he was witnessing. These sprawling palm trees in their backyard, the deafening trills of southern birds, the sweet sea air, and a serene tanned Alex in a milky linen suit, quietly dozing off after lunch - all of this was now accessible only to him, Miles, and he savored every second of this vacation that sometimes seemed surreal, like a calm before the storm. But he persistently pushed away such thoughts, continuing to revel in his own paradise.

They had already spent 10 days here, the first 3 of which they didn't venture beyond their plot on the hill, which offered a breathtaking view of the coast and emerald water. They were lingering in bed for a long time under the biting rays of the sun, plucking mandarins straight from the tree, and listening to vinyl records of Celentano on the veranda in the evenings, intertwining in each other's arms, merging and becoming the one. Then, finally realizing that missing the opportunity to stroll through such picturesque streets would be a crime, they started going out in town under the mountain after the sunset, when the heat subsided and the cicadas began their twilight concert. Every time they ordered a new pasta dish in local restaurants, hoping to try them all, but that was Italy...

In the mornings, they descend to the pebble beach, where Alex could lie for hours, reading books, while Miles were snorkeling in the Ligurian Sea, growing tired of waiting for his lover and retaliating by playfully splashing him with cool droplets. They would play in the water like teenagers, dunking each other or taking turns piggybacking. When the sun would started to scorch their skin, they would go to the local deli for ready-made lasagna with eggplant, always getting a few types of cannoli, new bottle of wine, olives and fruits. They would then retreat to their villa for the rest of the day, either playing the guitar, the only one they brought from their stuffy LA studio, or playing board games (for which Miles constantly called Alex "nonno," while he calmly continued to roll the dice), or falling asleep under the shade of the leafy trees right on the grass.

Miles hadn't laughed so often and so loudly, and more importantly, so genuinely, since their last joint tour. He felt an immense universal joy that was bursting from his chest, causing his cheeks to ache from the ever-present smile on his face. He felt alive next to the dearest and only person who truly understood him, which Alex had been for the past 17 years.

"How have we put up with each other for so long, Milo?" Turner laughed, finishing his glass of semi-sweet red wine.

And Kane replied seriously, capturing his alcohol-glistening gaze: "I no longer know how to live without you, Al."

And it was the absolute truth. They often had conversations like this, but Alex never actually put up with Miles, he did love him. He only put up with being apart from him. And it was always important for both of them to hear this small confession, like a spark of a cricket in the foliage, but a heart-wrenching one, even after a year, or 10, or 20 years of their relationship.

Relationship? Friendship, love, presence by each other's side, support, musical inspirations, passionate desires, care, hurt, forgiveness, kisses, hugs backstage and on stage, touches all over their bodies, eloquent glances, and ending with a single word proposals. That's what their relationship was. And if Miles were offered to never be a musician but to love Alex, he would still agree without any hint of hesitation, somewhere deep inside bitterly realizing that if Alex were faced with such a choice, he would have to think about it.

But at this moment, Miles didn't want to think about it at all, he only wanted to listen to his lover's steady breathing and bask in the fading sunlight with him. Miles walked around the column and silently sat down on the edge of the lounge chair. He lightly ran his hand over Turner's knee, not wanting to disturb, and then traced chiseled fingers slightly higher, along his thigh. However, even these gentle movements made Alex squirm, furrowing his brow and rolling over to the other side.

"Shh, sleep, my dear, I didn't mean to wake you," Miles whispered, soothingly continuing to stroke the man's leg.

"But I'm already awake," mumbled Alex sleepily, opening his eyes and immediately squinting in the bright light.

"What a shame," Kane sang mockingly, secretly delighted by this fact because he had missed Alex during the silence at their villa and mindless wandering through the rooms while he slept in the fresh air, "Will you move over?".

Alex squeezed himself into the corner of the lounge chair, making space as much as the single bed allowed. Miles approached him with a cunning smile, lying on his side, unable to fit his broad shoulders on the mattress even if he was alone, and invitingly opened his palms. Turner simply snorted and muttered something about a smug cat, pressing his back against Miles' contrasting cool chest compared to the scorching heat outside, covering man's hand that rested peacefully on his waist with his own, and intertwining their legs.

"So, you woke me up just to sleep together all cramped up? I don't want to anymore," Alex slowly stroked Miles' wrists, who closed his eyes in pleasure.

"Mmm, I just got bored being alone, you've been sleeping forever!"

"Mi, maybe an hour and a half at most," Turner said in a lecturing tone, turning slightly to give Kane a disapproving look.

"Well, I call that forever. Anyway, since you're already awake, let's think about our plans for the evening," Kane quickly changed the subject, kissing Alex's back of the neck, "I saw a poster for a local concert in the neighboring town. We can rent a scooter to get there, it's just a few kilometers away."

Alex burst out laughing at the last words, turning in his lover's embrace and almost touching noses with him.

"Oh, Kane, you don't even have a driver's license! And the fact that I rode 100 meters on it in a clip means nothing."

"We'll figure it out somehow, it can't be more difficult than tuning a guitar for the first time."

"Well, since I have such an experienced and confident driver, I can't deny myself the pleasure," Turner teased, pouting his lips and furrowing his brows like a college girl.

"Gosh, how cheap that sounds, Al. Those are second-rate tricks from middle school. Did I teach you to flirt like that?" Miles rolled his eyes, hiding a smile in the corners of his mouth.

"No, I think we just fucked right away," Alex retorted, immediately receiving a playful jab in the ribs, "Hey! Am I lying?"

"Do I need to remind you who first put his knee between my legs in the dressing room, huh?" Miles smirked, tucking Alex's overgrown locks behind his ear and stroking his slightly stubbled cheek. He looked angelically peaceful now, despite his unholy words.

"And do you regret it?" Seeing the silent denial, he continued, "Well, neither do I. So you don't need to teach me how to flirt, maestro. If we want to find a free scooter before sunset, we need to start getting ready. I was also planning to take a shower," Alex casually mentioned, slyly avoiding eye contact and running his hand suggestively along Miles' waist.

"Well, that's better already, at least the hints are subtler, but you've lost your touch. I'll have to remind you."

"Oi, you better do it indeed" Turner whispered in his ear. Honestly, he was amused at how they, two grown adults, were behaving as soon as intimacy was mentioned - it was like they were back in 10th grade of the school.

Once he calmed down, he reluctantly slipped out of the warm embrace and gracefully got up from the sun lounger, stretching and rising on tiptoes to better loosen his stiff limbs. Miles settled himself more comfortably, royally occupying the vacant spot and propping his head on his hand, watching Turner's toned body with a hungry gaze. He could do this for hours, knowing every mole, wrinkle, and scar.

"What are you looking at? Trying to find gray hairs?" Unable to withstand his scrutinizing eyes, the frontman softly spoke. Now he had his hands in the pockets, exposing his face to the sun and wind, which cautiously peeked onto the veranda through massive columns. Somewhere far below, the sound of the waves and children's laughter could be heard. Idyllic.

"It's too early for you to worry about that. I just can't get enough of looking at you. Clearly, this lifestyle suits you well, even though I fattened you up a bit, considering you were all skin and bones when you arrived."

"Afraid of breaking me?"

"I am," Miles admitted, not completely sure if he interpreted the question correctly. Turner smiled disarmingingly, the way he only smiled at him, leaned in, still keeping his hands in pockets, and planted a chaste kiss on the man's forehead before disappearing through the door.

"Catch up, or I'll manage without you," Alex said over the shoulder, fully aware that he wouldn't be able to handle anything without Miles. Not in life, not in the shower.

***

Comparing guitar tuning and riding a scooter turned out to be inappropriate, as Miles pointed out rather immodestly, getting behind the wheel, because the second one was elementary. During their short ride along the coast, Alex couldn't stop capturing breathtaking views with his vintage Canon. The peach-colored waves gently licked the shore, competing with each other for ownership of every stone on the beach, while the numerous bushes along the road swayed in the wind.

The neighboring town turned out to be Santa-Margherita-Ligure, welcoming the men with the warm glow of lights strung between each café and the loud Italian laughter that didn't quiet down until late at night. Leaving their mean of transport on the waterfront, they headed towards the main square, where light jazz melodies could already be heard. Ordinary chairs stood right on the historical cobblestones, occupying almost all the space, and a small mobile stage had been set up in the center, where musicians were tuning their instruments.

Taking seats in the corner of the front row, the men waited for the performance to begin.

"Have you forgotten what it's like to be on the other side of the stage?" Miles whispered, his lips almost touching Alex's ear.

"Sometimes I even prefer it here," Turner sadly smiled, "no obligations, masks, rehearsed lines, or unjustified expectations. You just exist in the music without thinking about how to reproduce it. I miss that."

Kane anxiously studied Alex's face from the side, trying to understand if he was speaking in a state of creative melancholy inspired by the upcoming concert or if he was simply revealing his deep pain that had burdened him all this time.

"Hey, I didn't mean to put you into existential ponderings. We can talk about it if it really bothers you, but not now. I purposely brought you here to relax and spend these last days with an empty mind, not to reflect on one careless question"

Miles didn't condemn him, but rather tried to hide his own anxiety behind a feigned admonition. He gently squeezed Alex's hand, caressing his knuckles with his thumb, and warmly smiled, knowing that this was the only support he could offer in public.

"Sorry-sorry-sorry," Alex babbled, running his hands forcefully over his face and organizing his thoughts, "forget about those words, we'll come back to it another time. You can hit me if I utter another sad-philosophical phrase that upsets you tonight."

Miles only laughed at that, patting his friend's knee, and, unable to resist, left an unnoticed kiss on his cheek, indicating that he would never fulfill his request in their lifetime.

Lost in conversations, they hadn't noticed that all the chairs had been taken and the band on stage was counting down seconds until the performance began, tightly gripping their bows in their hands. The increasingly suspenseful sound of the violin filled the entire square, eliciting sudden shivers from the audience and instantly isolating them from the rest of the world. Alex's full attention was now focused on the five people on stage, the sound that seemed to exist right in his head, and the melting night air. Rarely could he simply enjoy the melody without trying to dissect it into notes or analyze the lyrics.

Miles usually smoothed out the crease between his eyebrows that arose from such contemplation with a kiss, and he was ready to do it now, but as his gaze slid across the side of the face, he unexpectedly saw a serene smile on partially open lips. Turner leaned back in his chair, holding his hands between his thighs and slightly covering his eyes, which indicated his complete absence in our reality and his presence in his own, understood only by him and undoubtedly bringing him pleasure.

The concert lasted only an hour, not abundant in a wide repertoire. Towards the end, young men and women, children, and even racy grandmothers and grandfathers stood up from their seats to dance right in the square, laughing loudly at their clumsiness. Alex and Miles only watched this scene with warm smiles, tapping their feet rhythmically on the stone pavement, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention to themselves. The clock on the tower, located on the western side of the square, as was customary in all ancient city planning laws, struck 10 o'clock exactly at the moment when the musicians, in the heat of the final chord, sharply raised their bows towards the pitch-black sky, ending the performance. The square drowned in applause and whistling, evoking familiar motives from men's careers.

The air intoxicated their heads, and not wanting to return back so early, they turned into the depths of the city. Turner continued to photograph the local architecture and Miles against its backdrop with mocking skill, not allowing the camera to hang peacefully on his chest for more than two minutes. And when tourists would disappear from their sight, Kane with the agility of a cheetah would press Alex against the nearest wall of another you-know-who-lived-in-this-house-you-lustful-bastard building, pulling him into a tempting kiss and, despite all protests about his indifference to history, smiled contentedly on his lips, feeling Alex pull him closer by the collar of his leopard-print shirt.

They would laugh drunkenly, without drinking a glass, immediately receiving Italian curses from open balconies in response. They would play tag on narrow streets, after which they breathed heavily, resting their elbows on thr knees and joking about their advanced age. They would eat mango ice cream, licking the sweet drips from each other's fingers, and would never stop thinking for a moment about how lucky they are to be loved here and now.

***

They returned to the villa at midnight, exhausted from their long walk, hastily discarding their sticky clothes as they collapsed onto the unmade bed. Alex, resting his chin on Miles' chest, looked at him with such devoted eyes that Miles' heart skipped a beat at the impossibility of resisting those bottomless depths. In the moonlight, his sharp features softened, Alex's fingers gently tracing along the line of his jaw, while a warm smile lingered beneath his closed eyelids, etching itself into Miles' memory with fiery strokes.

"Mi, are you asleep?" Alex asked in a barely audible voice, listening to the rhythm of Miles' heartbeat beneath his cheek.

"No," Miles replied just as softly, shifting slightly on the crisp sheets to find a more comfortable position.

"Do you remember what I told you today about not feeling freedom in music?" Alex continued, as if afraid to disturb his own thoughts, "well, I realized just now that I'm the one closing myself off from it. But you know when? When you're not here. I'm tired of pretending to be someone else without you, tired of feeling not myself without you. And today, there on the square, when you were holding my hand, it hit me that since we met, no one else has come this close to me. You were and still are the only person who truly knows me. Can you imagine?" His voice broke into a hoarse laughter that, truth be told, sounded hauntingly beautiful in the peaceful silence.

"No one really knows me except for you. And I've been afraid to show my true self to anyone but you. But today, for the first time in a long while, I was able to listen to music without thinking about anything else but your fingers on my hands. And I realized," he paused, unconsciously gripping Miles' shoulder tighter, "I realized that I can perform on stage, just thinking about your hands, and then I won't have to try to hide behind a fabricated image to entertain the audience. Damn it, at 36 years old, I've come to the realization that I can simply sing without pouring my own problems into the songs, but instead, just give people the sound. A sound that resonates in their minds, in their feet and hands, a sound that makes them feel alive. I can make at least one of their days truly happy, just like you make my life happy simply by being with me."

Throughout this entire time, Miles never removed his nimble fingers from Alex's head, combing through his hair and soothing him. He could listen to his voice forever, automatically arranging the words into lines for new songs. The sight of Alex — until it stole the air from his lungs, until it brought tears to his eyes, until his pulse faltered in his veins, until a volcano of warmth erupted in his chest. Until he feels alive again.

"Al, if you haven't realized in 20 years of performing what you do for the lives of everyone who attends your concerts, then I'm going to have to enlighten you now," Miles chuckled softly, continuing to massage his head, "everything you've done for the industry is your way of existing in this world. You don't know any other ways, and that's your strength, not weakness. Your music is literally you, it's not about trends or fan requests. It's about how you communicate with others. You have an incredible gift of conveying intangible values through your lyrics. I have no idea how the gears in your mind work, but damn it, you're exceptional. And I swear, anyone who has ever heard any of your songs has pondered the words, thought about what you wanted to say, and ultimately thought about themselves. Your music has meaning, it's not just a string of letters for the sake of rhyme. It's a dictionary of your life. And since the day we first met, I've been carefully studying all your meanings and embodiments, so my music is about you and for you. You are my only inspiration, and if all you need to write a new song is a notebook and an image in your mind, then all I need is you by my side."

Miles may have wanted to add something more, but unable to bear the weight of such declarations of love, Alex impatiently kissed him, exhaling loudly from the fulfillment of a desire that had been building throughout his entire speech. Kane, quickly finding another activity for his tongue besides talking, trailed it along Alex's lower lip, feeling every crack from the salty water.

Alex smiled like a child, whispering 'I lovelovelove you' into his man's lips, continuously running palms along his cheeks. They continued to gaze at each other for a long time, carrying on a quiet conversation interrupted by occasional kisses, shivers down the spine, and tearful thank yous for everything. Even the stars, cautiously peering through the open windows, blushed at their whispers under the thin blanket. Only with the first rays of sunlight, when words ran out and lips swelled from endless contact, men finally fall asleep in a tangle of intertwined arms and legs.

And if Alex were offered to never be a musician but to love Miles, he would without hesitation write a song about it. Because it would be meaningless to confront the person with a choice who made it 17 years ago.

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: I sincerely want to believe that this is how everything really happened for them. All in all, these two deserve a happy ending. I will be incredibly happy if you leave feedback after reading! Everything that was born in my head would very much like to find a response in you💔🥺

[ravenbees]

Just submitted my first ever conference proposal about to make tomato basil pasta with tofu except I accidentally bought firm tofu instead of silken so it won’t make good sauce but I’m gonna try and strain the sauce and if it’s too gritty I’ll just walk into the sea 🌊🤩♥️

[wtfuckevenknows]

Okay, Nice Ask Week Ask -

You're invited to a potluck, what are you bringing?

Bonus round - it's a themed potluck and you have to bring a dish that is somehow emblematic of the last book or movie you loved. What are you bringing?

Alright Lim, I’m not sure I would call an existential crisis NICE exactly but here we go 😂

I have thought long and hard about this and as always I’m gonna cheat because I would need more Information for a straight answer. Am I responsible for a certain type of food, is there a general theme, what’s the occasion, what time of year is it?!

First of all if I could I would ALWAYS bring a charcuterie board!!! I have so much fun making them so if I could bring a snack (or two) that would be my offering.

Am I responsible for sides?! I’d bring a Mediterranean salad (with or without orzo) or my families secret recipe pasta salad or I’d bake some fresh bread (maybe olive bread, maybe cheddar bay biscuits).

Am I bringing a main dish?! This is actually the hardest one to decide but maybe I’d bring my chili mac or the taco pasta. If the potluck is around Christmas I’d ALWAYS bring my meatloaf stuffed with apples and chestnuts.

Am I bringing a drink?! Selfmade pink (cranberry) lemonade during summer, apple cider during winter.

Am I bringing desert?! My Mousse au chocolat made out of silken tofu (I was gonna try it out with gingerbread seasoning this winter, but then my body happened so if that’s any good I’d bring that at Christmas time).

Am I bringing sweets? Chocolate orange fudge hands down!!!

Am I bringing cake?! Tres Leches or my no bake straciatella torte.

Onto that second part of your ask 🙃

The last book(s) I really loved were a hockey series and I have a cake tin in the form of a shirt. Soooooo I’d bake a cake and decorate it so it would resemble a hockey jersey obviously. I’ve also baked hockey cookies before.

Not sure I am happy with these answers but I also wanna stop thinking about it 😂

(And now I’m gonna unfreeze the silken tofu and @loveconquersall is just gonna have to suffer through a food coma this weekend)

[mariacallous]

If it’s tough to imagine a summer BBQ without pasta salad, why not make one that’s loaded with nutrients and can handle the heat of a perfect summer day? Nix the mayo and dairy and consider tahini and roasted red peppers as a base for a nutty pasta salad dressing.

I chose MagNoodles pasta because it disguises its health benefits in colorful multi whole grain penne. Carrots, spinach, tomatoes and beets are ground together with ancient grains like kamut and spelt, making this a worthwhile carb to indulge in. Worried about the texture? This pasta cooks up to a perfectal dente without any of the cardboard­-like textures associated with wholegrain noodles.

A couple of days before you fire the grill at your gathering, char a load of vibrant bell peppers on the BBQ until they’re mostly blackened and wrinkled. Plunge them into ice water and peel off the skin. Underneath, you’ll discover sweet, silken peppers that can easily be whirred into a vitamin-rich summer pasta dressing.

Tahini is a perfect base for this dressing. It won’t spoil easily in the heat, and benefits from being blended a day or two in advance. Check one more thing off your list so you can relax with family and friends.

Suggestions for serving leftover tahini:

Spread on wholegrain toast for breakfast. Add a sliced hard-boiled egg and a sprinkle of course salt.

Slice leftover chicken and layer a slab of perfectly ripe tomato and garlicky tahini for the perfect sandwich.

Try tahini alongside scrambled eggs and enjoy breakfast for dinner.

Pack tahini with raw veggies for a perfect lunch for you or the kiddos.

Or better yet, serve veggies and tahini before dinner with a chilled glass of rose.

Notes:

This dressing can be made 2 days in advance. Because tahini thickens as it rests, do NOT dress the pasta until you are ready to serve it. If dressing seems too thick, add 1 Tbsp water or lemon juice at a time, and stir until the texture resembles a cream-based salad dressing. 

You’ll have plenty of tahini left over after coating your pasta. It will last 4­-5 days in the refrigerator. 

[ladyaj-13]

This is going to make me sound about 85, but I really love the variety of food that's so available in not-even-very-big British supermarkets these days. I just popped in and got Mexican-inspired habanero chili tortilla chips, orzo pasta, French cheese, Japanese silken tofu, a pre-made vegetable moussaka and Korean kimchi, and it's just a bog standard Sainsburys. It's not weird. When you think about it, that's pretty amazing.

[arcanemoody]

It's 2pm.

I'm in Chicago.

I'm drinking cold brew from Courageous Bakery, a local place up the street, because BDS.

We had an in-person game night scheduled with friends last night so I spent most of yesterday getting the entire living room spotless. Which probably explains why I immediately fell back to sleep on the sofa after I dropped Rocket off at the train station this morning.

I'm going to a special screening at the Music Box tonight, so I had planned to make dinner for Rocket before I leave. Decided to get the jump on that early and very glad I did, if only for the awesome smells emanating from the kitchen (spicy silken tofu with rice). Also, days like these have really made me appreciate the covered casserole dishes we inherited from my grandfather.

No sound sensitivity today, some itches, no nail chewing or picking, no feelings of constriction or overheating. I bought a cute case for my meds, so having a pillbox on hand is going to be more manageable. Some major dysphoria the last few days -- the breasts are a problem as usual, but now my hair is also bugging me. "Am i androgynous enough?" "Do I look like someone that might have a dick but also happens to be wearing a skirt?" "Do I just look 40?"

Things I feel positive about: cold brew/caffeine, having a couch clear of everything but nerdy pillow plushes and my dog, the SAW the Musical t-shirt I'm wearing, the STL Pasta House salad I made for breakfast/brunch, cooking, updating my CV, having weather cool enough that I could shut off the AC and open the windows, having room to just sit and be.

[yunnieyaps]

Yesterday I saw a cute(?) boy in supermarket,and I was fighting the urge to not look twice T T

Like why would I look at a dude twice if it ain't mingi(I am ready to break my neck for him)

And ukw we kept running into e/o damn and I was looking like a chudail (cuz I had just washed my hair the flyaways were so damn ugly,😭)

Bro that's literally destiny. He's already in love with you. Your fly aways probably looked like silken threads flying with the wind to him.

Why don't I see cute ppl in the supermarket? All I get are old uncles. But I shall not lose hope, one day I will come across Mingi buying pudina in the supermarket and he'll fall insanely in love with me and then we'll get married, adopt 2 dogs and then he'll dance to Chikni Chameli while I make us pasta.

[raccoonfallsharder]

so

1. i think i just finished first revision of chapter nine of cicatrix .⋆☁︎ :･꧂and i think it’s really kinda good? in a super-sentimental way

and

2. i had this fic labeled as fast burn but i guess it’s really fast burn once and then slowwww simmer with a LOT of filthy daydreams & intense emotional intimacy developing along the way so i uh fixed that in the summary with the last update. it's like when the pot boils over but the pasta ain't done cooking

He stares at pearl’s pretty, delicate fingers. His lowlight vision paints them with the champagne light of the security orbs, and he can see them so clearly that he can count the faint freckles on the second knuckle of her first and third digits, and a beauty mark on the web of her thumb. He compares the satin skin and spindle-thin bones to the mass of gnarled leather and claw that made up his own hands. Then he rolls her fine knuckles under his rasping thumb, and finally — carefully, stomach tight with tension at the thought of waking her up — he brings them to his face and coasts his mouth over them lightly. He wants to lick them. Take the flavor of them into his mouth, press them against his teeth. Maybe between his teeth — nibbling just enough to leave little divots that would fade in less than an hour. Get the taste and texture of her silken skin on his tongue. An antidote to ghosts.

[angelkin-food-cake]

hi hii <3 would you happen to have any vegan recipies for a balljoint dollkin? i'm partial to both sweet and savory foods. i enjoy tea flavors, berry-heavy recipies, chocolate & vanilla...i also really enjoy creamy pastas, stews, and fresh salads. non-alcoholic drinks are preferable, and i am sadly Very allergic to bananas & dates :( thank u! <3

Hi there! Here's some things for you! ♥

Fresh Strawberry Pie

Strawberry Silken Tofu Breakfast Pudding

Iced Green Tea

Vegan Pot Pie with Spring Veggies

Lemon-Lavender Blackberry & Ricotta Grilled Cheese Sandwiches  

Creamy Avocado and Spinach Pasta

Blueberry Lemon Fudge with Creamed Coconut

Chocolate Zucchini Pancakes

T-T I used to be vegan so I know it must be a little challenging to say the least to find sweets that don't have bananas and dates. So i did a few extra sweet things. Hope you enjoy them. = 3

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