#so sad silken tofu it is

[bastionbibi]

I love writing fanfiction

[unganseylike]

the “im hanging on by a thread” “im telling you you gotta try apricot jam that thread will turn into a rope” is me with miso paste. my friend casually mentioned one day that her go-to easy vegetarian meal was miso soup and i was like making miso soup isnt easy (or vegetarian) you got to deal with the dashi and its a whole thing. she said well i mean i just use the miso and some tofu. truly a life changing interaction. now whenever i am sad and need easy hearty meal i make a bare bones miso soup…this has perhaps been a pillar holding me up this year

[harlequinfrog]

one of my friends is trying to learn how to cook so i'm teaching him my favorite recipes and today we made sundubu jjigae together. it was a bit of a mess because i hadn't made it in a while but my god!!! stews that could make you forgive your father

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ep 1. but i’ll miss you | myj, jjk

sugar, spice, and everything nice ep 1. but i'll miss you.

pairing(s): yoonji (fem!myg) x reader x jungkook

summary: Sugar? Min Yoonji. Spice? The woman at the park. Everything nice? Jeon Jungkook (he is freaking annoying, though). The accidental chemical X? Well, the woman in the park that Min Yoonji finds incredibly attractive is kinda-dating-definitely-fucking Jeon Jungkook. And he's very obviously in love with her.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; Yoonji is pansexual and still in the closet; internalized homophobia + moments of gay panic; ft. best friend group, OT6 (specifically Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung during the bowling hangout), best friend!Jung Hoseok is at military service (sad); f/f/m love triangle? slow burn; there will be smut in the future; non-idol!AU - Yoonji's POV

set in South Korea, Karrot is resale app for clothing, furniture, etc

--

“What does it taste like?”

That mere smile sent chills down her spine.

“Sweet.”

There was nothing to say to that. She looked away, not wanting to look into those eyes anymore. Didn’t ask for a bite. It wasn’t hers. It seemed to be a homemade dessert of soft silken tofu and heavy ginger syrup. The kind of sugar syrup that was heavier than the tofu. The dark viscous liquid dripped between the cracks of puffy white, seeping into the decadence, similar to the way those scorched eyes seemed to see past any defense Min Yoonji had.

She didn’t know how she got into this position, yet here she was.

Sigh.

Inwardly, she wished her best friend Jung Hoseok was here. He wasn’t because he was busy fulfilling his service of being a Korean man. Hmph. Well, Yoonji could have come alone. She had done it before. She was tough enough. But something about this this had given her a bad feeling, so she had asked if a friend could accompany her to help pick up the light fixture that she had found on Karrot.

That friend being Jeon Jungkook.

Shit, Yoonji really fucked up asking Jeon Jungkook.

“I’m sorry, noona, but something came up! I messed up my knee. I’ll send my friend instead. Don’t worry. You’ll be safe!”

Now she was sitting here on this park bench with the…

Woman.

Really, Yoonji didn’t even know her name. She knew her face, of course. Seen it enough times. Had never once thought to ask her name, mostly since Yoonji only saw her from a distance, said woman now often leaving Jungkook’s side whenever their friend group made time to meet up. Everyone teased him, your girlfriend? And this young, tall, tattooed punk would grin and not say anything. Jungkook was incapable of lying.

Just “keke,” and that was that.

Yoonji didn’t like it.

She was the only girl in her friend group. Probably equated to some internalized discourse if she bothered to go to therapy about it. But, during the time that she had been able to talk to a professional, she had kept the conversation about other people gender-neutral and without names. At the time, her relationships with others were all affected by her disconnected and toxic relationship with herself. She had to fix that first before moving forward. Back then, she had been suffering from the common syndrome of being depressed, stressed, and well-dressed.

Yeah.

Those rough years were not that funny, but at least Yoonji could joke about it now.

Anyway, about this woman.

This woman had actually showed up before her, sitting gracefully at the agreed-upon public park bench that Yoonji would soon encounter some stranger for an industrial-looking black chandelier that may or may not be real. The replies had been in broken Korean. Probably a foreigner using a translator. There was probably nothing to worry about, but the messages had been… weird. Asking about what Yoonji was doing after and such. No, she didn’t like it, and so she had asked Jungkook to accompany her. Dude looked like a tiger, his stripes being his multiple tattoos and facial piercings, but he had the soul of an adorable and vigorous bunny. Wouldn’t hurt anyone. Looked the part just in case anyone got the wrong idea. Boxed as well, for fun. But, instead of Jungkook, Yoonji was sent this woman who came with her snack of sweet tofu, silently and unashamedly eating it with a foldable spoon at the opposite end of the park bench.

Jungkook’s woman?

Who cares.

Was this worse or better than that punk? They dressed similarly, to be honest. The spoken-of woman was wearing all black. A baseball cap with an upside-down smiley face, leather jacket with matte-black metal spikes, charcoal baggy jeans, and a tight crop top with some kind of insane, probably satanic pattern on it. Yoonji snuck a peek. Circles and runes and horned devil heads, glossy print on fabric. Yup, downright hellish.

She abruptly realized she was staring at another woman’s tits and looked away immediately.

Clothed, but still.

This woman also sat like an insane person. Legs wide open compared to Yoonji’s crossed ones. Relaxed stance with a completely straight back. Refined and uncouth at the same time. It made no sense. Her hair curled around her shoulders and chin, loose and messy and intensely sexy.

She adjusted her cap and Yoonji darted her eyes around the park.

Looking for the seller.

Obviously.

Yoonji came dressed as she normally did. Comfortably, in a loose beige hoodie and similarly baggy slate blue jeans with rips in the knees. She wasn’t going to dress up for some musty dude and his lighting fixture, and definitely not for Jeon Jungkook. And not for Jungkook’s, uh…

Girlfriend?

Meh.

There was a strange shiver fluttering in her ribcage. Unease of being underdressed somehow, even though they were simply meeting up for this very specific task. They had not agreed to go anywhere after. Perhaps she would help carry the chandelier. Presumably it was broken down and in its box. Allegedly. Still, the box could be heavy. Yoonji checked her phone. Not time yet. Five more minutes. She had the brief thought that it could be possible for the seller to be late due to transporting a larger package. Awesome. Couldn’t wait for this continued awkward silence with her soft tofu devourer.

She sensed movement by her side.

The woman capped the now empty glass cup with a black plastic lid, foldable spoon inside it, and slipped the whole thing into her small backpack. She shoved it back to her side. Yoonji noticed there was photocard holder attached to it. She couldn’t see the artist since it had flipped around. The other side was black with some grey text on it. There was also a black strap with a grey flame hanging off the photocard holder. Huh. Seemed like she liked idols. At the very least music in general. Yoonji wanted to ask, but that seemed weird to bring up now.

“Jungkook tell you how he busted his knee?”

She almost jumped at the throaty, silken voice. Stopped herself. The other woman cleared her throat, her brows furrowing. It must have been due to the ginger syrup. Even with the slight distance, Yoonji had been able to smell the intense strength of the spice.

“Uh… no, he didn’t.”

The cap bobbed. “Hm. Good.”

Good?

Yoonji frowned. “What do you mean, good?”

Light shrug. “I can help you carry the box back to your place. I gotta head that way to go to the fitness store.”

The fucking one-eighty in topic didn’t throw Yoonji off in the slightest. She said enough by saying nothing. Yoonji watched the way those shaded eyes remained forward, not lifting her shoulders from the bench. Then those dark orbs shifted and suddenly Yoonji was stuck in a penetrating gaze with faint smile, feeling as if she knew something but didn’t really know it.

Those full lips were beautifully shaped.

Anyone would think that.

She bit her lip. Say something. “Why do you need to go to the fitness store?” Yoonji asked, chewing the dead skin off. It was a bad habit. Didn’t usually happen unless she was stressed.

The woman raised her hand. Graceful fingers. Neatly manicured nails. Dark purple with a cobalt blue shimmer. Could be a pianist’s hands, if it wasn’t for the almond-shape of those nails. Yoonji felt her own fingers tuck into the sleeves of her hoodie. She didn’t usually paint them. Kept her nails short due to her job, repairing and selling guitars. Of course, she was no poser and played them too. Sometimes, though, she thought about trying those fancy manicures girls had.

Then she remembered that wasn’t like her at all.

“I have carpal tunnel, so I have wrist compression braces. They’re getting kinda ratty. I wanted to buy some new ones.” She laughed, in a naughtily cheerful, almost bratty way. It was stupid attractive. “The people in the shop probably think I’m lifting weights but, nope. Just feeding my gaming addiction.”

Her eyes flickered up and down, checking out the other woman’s frame. Yoonji couldn’t tell the size of her arms but a vague assessment could be made from those thin pretty wrists and previous knowledge when viewing from afar. “You don’t look like you lift weights.”

“Hey, I’ve got some muscle.”

And much to Yoonji’s surprise, the woman brushed off the right shoulder of her leather jacket and flexed her arm, showing off the small hard lump of a bicep with a laugh. Not much there at all yet undoubtedly defined. She even smacked it with her left hand for sarcastic emphasis, and then pulled her jacket back on smoothly with a smirk.

“Only got that from jackin’ dick though.”

It was pretty funny, but Yoonji wasn’t laughing.

She was slack-jawed at the ease of vulgarity and the shameless confidence oozing out of every pore, suddenly realizing the reason why Jungkook was with this woman. Her rapid heartbeat choked her throat as her brain mentally replayed the swift, seamless movement of black leather falling off that slim shoulder. That accompanying playful smirk. The devious mirth in those scorched eyes.

That aggressive smack that did… something.

At that second, there was a cheery jingle that sounded from the woman’s jeans.

“That’s the time you said the seller is supposed to be here,” she said, fishing out her phone and turning off the alarm. “Where is he?”

Grateful for having an excuse to look away, Yoonji aimlessly swiped at her phone screen to keep her hands busy. “Let me check my messages.” Not getting flustered about it. Definitely not.

She had to face reality.

She’s straight.

At any rate, this woman and Jungkook were undeniably fucking. There was no question about that. Too many times it felt like Jungkook was arriving at the gatherings with a big grin and better mood after being seen with her. That was the face of a man getting laid, for sure. Whatever. Yoonji didn’t care about her friends’ dating or sex lives. It wasn’t her business. Most of the time the girls weren’t even her type.

Most of the time.

Not that she had a type. Or anything.

In this current season of life, she had already come to terms with her sexual orientation. Yoonji had known all her life that she was who she was. There had been no internal struggles about if it was true or not. It was. Still, there was no reason to directly say anything to anyone about it. After all, so far she had only dated and had sex with men. Most of her friends were men too. Status quo could remain since there was no good reason to challenge it. She also wasn’t the type to act on impulse. Not with the delicate line that was this. Yoonji had mentioned it to Hoseok at some point. Being the smart man he was, Hoseok had advised that her sexuality was something she didn’t have to broadcast if she didn’t want to. But, if she needed to do that to feel like herself, then he assured her that their friend group would be accepting of whatever choice she made.

And if not, he would kick them out.

She had felt very appreciative about that. However, the topic of her sexuality never came up in conversation with her friends, so Yoonji had never voiced or alluded to anything about it to the other guys. It wasn’t necessary, so she remained in her comfortable little bubble. She had not yet felt compelled to search for a community or meet specific people. It seemed troublesome. She was content with her current friends and her daily life kept her busy. Besides, there was no one to risk it for.

Certainly not for Jungkook’s…

Um.

Friend-with-benefits.

“What did he say?’

Yoonji jumped as the woman scooted closer, indicating her screen with the open Karrot app. She looked down, the realization setting in.

“The… The profile is deleted?”

The sudden annoyance and rage overpowered any uncomfortable feelings. Listing disappeared. Profile deleted. Even the in-app messages erased because the seller didn’t exist. The fuck? Ugh, that deal was too good to be true. It didn’t even exist. Must have been a cowardly creep that was watching them right now and lost his nerve since Jungkook’s friend was here perched like a bird of prey. Yoonji felt a growl boil in her chest. All this for nothing.

“Aw, man, it was fake? That sucks.”

Holy fuck, she smells good.

Like warm coffee with a sensual depth.

Wait, what?

“Hm, well, I won’t bother you any more then. I’ll go some other time to the fitness store. These things happen,” the woman sighed in disappointment, standing up and stretching, her small backpack and photocard holder swaying. Some guy in a leather jacket. At the moment, Yoonji was too furious to note who the idol was. “Get yourself something nice to eat, Min Yoonji. You’re already out.”

She frowned.

“Hey, I never caught your name.”

Those predator eyes flickered back. “Oh? I figured Jungook would tell you.”

Why is she playing games? “It never came up,” she snapped back.

That fucking smile.

Yoonji hadn’t known it then, but she had already fallen down the rabbit hole at this point.

“Ah, don’t get mad at me. I just thought it was kinda funny Jungkook would keep it from you. Wonder why.” Light shrug with her thumbs slipping into her pockets. “I should teach him to have better manners. My name is…”

-

“Come hang out with us, noona. It’s okay.”

“No, no, I don’t want to intrude. I would only be in the way.”

“But I’ll miss you.”

A small, coy smile. An elegant hand reached up and tucked a bit of black hair back under the beanie. The smile grew wider as those manicured fingers lingered by an ear adorned with five lobe earrings. A chain connected the first and last in the line. Flashy for someone who didn’t have a flashy personality – at least, not to strangers.

Min Yoonji watched Jeon Jungkook wiggle childishly, tugging on the sleeve of a black denim jacket covered with gothic patches. Skulls and cats and devils. Shit like that. When the woman stood next to Jungkook, they visually suited each other well. The younger man wore a grey beanie, a loose black silk shirt patterned with flourishing white text tucked into baggy, ripped jeans, and a simple black belt. Chunky black boots that matched the chain-covered heeled ones his companion was wearing. Underneath the patch-covered denim jacket, she wore a tight-fitted, dark grey jersey minidress that showed off her attractive and clearly feminine figure.

She knew she shouldn’t, and yet Yoonji still lingered by the other side of the bus stop LED advertisement, eavesdropping on the conversation between Jungkook and his mystery-title friend.

The stop was located right outside the brightly-lit bowling alley that she was supposed to be meeting her friend group at. Uncharacteristically, Yoonji had ended up late due to a train delay. She had skipped the bus ride and had run to her destination. There had also been reports of a minor road accident and Yoonji wasn’t going to wait any more. Besides, she had worn sneakers, jeans, and a white hoodie, along with a black ball cap with some distressed detailing. Nothing fancy.

Or ladylike.

She was meeting a bunch of dudebros anyway.

“You know, most guys would be happy to ditch an annoying girl to hang out with their friends,” the woman was saying, chuckling as Jungkook swung her arm in an arc.

“But you’re not annoying,” he was saying, spinning her around as if they were dancing. “Ah, I don’t even wanna go bowling anymore…”

The woman poked Jungkook on the side of the head, still letting him tug her around. How bothersome was that? But she acted as if he was being totally normal and not causing a bunch of passerby stares. “Don’t be like that. Besides, you have an addiction.”

And then, much to Yoonji’s surprise, Jungkook dropped the woman’s hand and reached out to hug her.

Except his hands were on the woman’s ass.

Yoonji frowned.

Idiot.

“Mhm, I do…”

“Get off me,” the woman laughed, her hands cradling his head. Yoonji got the impression that she didn’t mean it in a cruel way, especially since she was feathering kisses over Jungkook’s cheeks. Or it sounded like that. Her current angle wasn’t great. “If your friends see, they’re gonna tease you.”

“Who cares? They’re just jealous.”

No, I’m not.

She hadn’t said it out loud and yet Yoonji tensed, feeling heat rush over her cheeks.

Never mind.

“Aww, okay, okay, I’ll go now. I can come over tomorrow night, right?”

A wonderful, exasperated laugh. “Don’t you have work? You need to sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” Jungkook huffed, detaching himself and backing up. “I’m gonna come over.”

“And I’m not gonna stop you. See you, silly boy.”

She yanked her body back behind the advertisement as Jungkook grinned and ran off into the bowling alley. He wasn’t the type to walk like a normal human being. But who cared about that? What did Yoonji just witness? Of course, she had seen her friends in relationships before. The handsome and elusive Kim Taehyung had maybe one or two serious relationships. The ever-so-flirty Park Jimin was notorious for dating around. Educated literary fiend Kim Namjoon had a girlfriend for a long while. It had ended badly. Her best friend Jung Hoseok had friends of all genders and various stages of depth in those relationships. Hoseok himself was protective of his heart but not opposed to giving love. As far was Yoonji knew, goofy and well-off Kim Seokjin hadn’t dated yet, however, she wouldn’t be surprised. That worldwide handsome face constantly attracted people.

And Jeon Jungkook?

He had the bad boy look, but never got close to anyone. He flirted, relentlessly, but always backed out when it got serious. All that looked pretty damn serious to Yoonji, though. That was good. Right?

Except.

It was early evening, but Yoonji felt strangely cold.

Shouldn’t I be happy for him? What’s wrong with me?

“Eh?!”

The gasp cut through her thoughts and she jumped back, startled, snapping her head up to…

Oh.

“Min Yoonji?”

Oh, shit.

Her lips were moving. Nothing was coming out. That was very unlike herself, what is wrong with me, her cheeks blaringly warm, and Yoonji finally got her name out, bluntly, instinctively tipping her head in respectful greeting while also feeling the dire need to hide her face.

“Oh, shit, my bad. I freaked you out, huh? Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you on the other side of the bus stop. Did you only just get here? Jungkook already went inside,” the woman was saying, and Yoonji found she couldn’t look her in the face for some reason.

I know. I mean, what?

“Sorry, again. Uh. You’re standing in front of the schedule. Huh. Looks like there’s a delay.”

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“My bad,” Yoonji quickly mumbled, sliding to the side. “You came here with Jungkook again, huh?”

A pause.

Why did I say it like that? Yoonji winced, resisting the urge to slap some common sense into herself. She lifted her head, realizing the way her tone must have sounded, searching for the woman’s expression under the brim of the cap. Something flitted over those features. As soon as it was faintly visible, the unknown emotion was gone, replaced by a faint smile. Wisps of wild hair casted shadows over those cheekbones due to the oncoming sunset. People were rushing past. Conversations, purposes, desires, but suddenly all Yoonji could see was the endless darkness of those scorched eyes framed by smoked lashes.

“Do you like Jungkook romantically, by chance?”

What!

“No!”

The word shot out of her mouth with such force that Yoonji backed up, shocked at her own reaction. The other woman looked taken aback, tilting her head, and there was no way to save this situation, stuck, frozen in this mortifying moment, completely forgetting her previous engagement.

Those plush pink lips looked like they had been kissed all night.

By Jungkook?

A sting dug deep into Yoonji’s heart.

“Oh, I thought…” An awkward laugh, and the woman readjusted the black strap of her bag over her chest. “I got the impression you didn’t like me because I’ve been stopping by with Jungkook lately. My bad. Didn’t mean to ask so bluntly like that. It was on my mind, though. I should get going. Have a good evening, then.”

A gentle wave.

A turn.

And before she knew what she was doing, Yoonji reached out and grabbed that denim sleeve.

“Wait.”

Those scorched eyes full of shadows returned and she found herself breathless at the sight of them.

She had to force herself to speak.

“You should come bowling with us. I’m always the only girl. It would be nice if…”

The goosebumps danced all over her skin. It was like asking someone out of a first date, except this person actually made her nervous and there was going to be a bunch of other people there, including the one was she probably actually dating.

“Would be nice if you hung out with us too, sometimes.”

Yoonji knew she should have added, Jungkook would be happy to see you. She didn’t for some reason. No, she knew the reason, but she bit back those thoughts and let go of that sleeve, not wanting to be too pushy about it. Chewed on her lip, peeling away at dry skin. The other woman seemed to contemplate for a second and shrugged, chuckling.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll go with you.”

It was at this moment that Yoonji knew.

She fucked up.

Too late now.

-

It wasn’t that bad.

There was some confusion, yes. Introductions, casual banter. Yoonji noticed that Jungkook seemed both surprised and a little hurt. What for? But then the woman went to stand next to him and whispered in his ear. He seemed much more satisfied after that. Yoonji busied herself with paying and picking out the right size for her bowling shoes. It was dark in here. Minors were no longer allowed since the bar was opening. The alleys were lit up with scattered color. Mood lighting. Jungkook loved that shit.

Yoonji noticed that they didn’t hold hands.

Interesting.

The women paid and was handed the beige and black bowling shoes. Their group was smaller today, just Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Seokjin. Honestly, Yoonji would have dropped out if Seokjin wasn’t coming with. The other three were younger and they were noisy. Kim Seokjin was loud as fuck too, but he was reasonable and matched Yoonji’s energy when she was feeling drained of the other three. The woman was chatting with Seokjin. They seemed to know each other to some extent. Why does everyone seem to know you but me? That wasn’t a fair assessment. Taehyung and Jimin were jostling Jungkook around, teasing him probably. They didn’t seem as familiar with her.

Hm.

The next notable moment was when they were sitting down and changing shoes. Yoonji glanced over, seeing her unzip her boots. Normal. Shifting line of vision. The hem of that tight dress was hiking up those soft thighs. Well, she hadn’t dressed to go bowling, after all.

Yoonji paused, wondering if she should say something.

Then, all of a sudden, Jungkook’s jean-covered butt was blocking her vision.

Hey!

Clicked her tongue, busying herself with the shoes. He didn’t have to do that. Nothing was happening here. The music was so loud that Yoonji found she couldn’t hear their conversation. Annoying. Until…

“Oh! You have Gengar socks!”

“They’re cute! Is Gengar wearing a pumpkin? Haha, it’s not Halloween though!” Taehyung was laughing.

“Aw, who cares.? You can’t see them anyway,” Jungkook’s lady was chuckling, yanking on the bowling shoes. “It’s Halloween every day in my heart.”

“I didn’t know you liked cute stuff, noona,” Jimin teased. “You seem so tough, but you’re a big softie, huh? Of course, you must be if you like our Jungkookie!”

“Bleh, shush,” came the exasperated sigh and hand wave. “The real tough one is Seokjinnie over here for putting up with you guys.”

Yoonji frowned. The two of them must be somewhat familiar for her to address Seokjin with such familiarity. It came up in conversation later, after a few strikes and pleas with a higher power to give Jimin better aim (no higher power answered but Taehyung did accidentally bowl for Jimin, uh huh). Apparently, Seokjin and Jungkook’s friend had met online through an online team-based game. Yoonji didn’t play video games because she wasn’t good at them. At least, compared to her friends. She was fine with watching though.

“You’re doing great today. You must have eaten something good.”

Yoonji gave Seokjin the side-eye. “Or maybe you’ve gotten worse. Online video games aren’t the same as a physical sport.”

“Hey! It’s all hand-eye coordination. Same, same!”

“At this rate, even Jimin will overtake you.”

Seokjin’s handsome face twisted in indignation. He had the kind of facial features that were model-envy if he wasn’t contorting them to some ridiculous expression. Like right now. “He cheated and made Taehyung bowl for him!”

“I did not!”

“Oh, really?”

She ignored their squabbling, only to freeze up once she realized who was sitting next to her.

“I’m pretty sure I’m doing the worst right now,” came the wry chuckle. “Thankfully, Jungkook shielded my pride and typed in Gengar instead of my name.”

“You’re doing okay,” Yoonji said quietly, glimpsing to her left. She caught the scent of something warm and tangy. Perfume.

O… Oh.

“That’s very nice of you to say, but I’m fifty points behind Jimin.” A sigh. “I think it’s my manicure. I should cut my nails a bit. They’ll grow back.”

Then, much to Yoonji’s surprise, the woman leaned over and unzipped her bag, moving things around.

“W-Wait, really?” Turned and she really was pulling out a small silver nail clipper and a cerulean blue glass nail file. “It’s just a bowling game. It’s not that serious.”

The other woman craned her head and lined up her the nail of her middle finger with the clipper. “Yeah, but I’m not really trying,” she was saying. Snip! “I don’t really like that. if I’m gonna lose, I should at least lose trying my best.”

Yoonji watched in stunned fascination as the woman trimmed down her black cherry manicure on three nails on what seemed to be her dominant hand. Middle finger, ring finger, and thumb. Only those. She left the index and pinky in their pointed almond shape. She held up her hand after, graceful fingers spread out.

O-Oh.

“I… I’m going to the bathroom for a sec.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll–”

But Yoonji didn’t stop to listen, walking away quickly, quickly, into the women’s bathroom and closing the stall door, doing nothing but immediately pinning her back to the door and exhaling hard. Ragged. Rough. What is wrong with me? She knew what was wrong. Yoonji placed her palms over her mouth and forced out another breath. There was flushing and water splashing and currently popular pop music drowning out the more unpleasant noises, but Yoonji was too busy trying to calm down the screaming in her head. This was bad. This was really bad. She had watched enough girl-on-girl porn to know… No. Obviously, Jungkook’s friend was going to clip the nails of her middle and ring finger. Those were the ones to hold the bowling ball. There was nothing more to it.

Just a coincidence.

Don’t be delusional.

This would be much easier if it was a man. Yoonji knew how to be cool and calm when it came to guys. Besides, the male mindset was too airheaded to pick up on subtlety anyway. But, what if a woman could…? She had already caught on to Yoonji acting weird earlier. Even thought she had romantic feelings with Jungkook. Pfft. Absurd. That kid was grown up now, but he was still only a bright-eyed eager bunny. No amount of tattoos or piercings would ever turn Jeon Jungkook from prey to predator, although he could look the part with enough working out. Jungkook was certainly her type when it came to looks but as far as personality, Yoonji was sure she would be worn out by Jungkook.

Wait.

Yoonji froze.

What?

She pushed her hair back. Another tick that happened due to her nervousness. Ha. Haha. I did not just think that about Jeon Jungkook. No. No, no, she was simply confused. That was all. Confused and working though who-the-fuck-knows-what. No. This had to stop. You have to compartmentalize this shit. This couldn’t keep happening. Stop acting weird. Pull yourself together. When it came down to it, Yoonji had to step out of this stall and chill the fuck out.

She couldn’t let it show.

Nobody is stopping you from getting off to her later.

Yoonji told her brain to shut up and left the stall.

-

Once their bowling game was over, the adults moved on to bigger and better things.

“You want the Gengar, right?”

“I don’t want anything. I don’t trust these things. Don’t waste your money.”

“Don’t be like that, noona. She totally wants the Gengar,” Taehyung talked over her, shoving in tokens so Jungkook could attempt the claw machine. Jimin stood at the far corner of the machine and pointed animatedly, calling to move a little more left, no, right, no, back more. Seokjin snorted at him to shut up. Yoonji watched as Jungkook failed, his broad shoulders dropping heavily as the round bright purple plush slid out of the metal claw and plopped back into the mound of colorful plushies, face-first onto its teasing red eyes and big grin.

“One more time,” Jungkook insisted.

“You don’t–”

She watched the younger man turn to the woman and pull a big pout. There was an exchanged glance between them. A muscle in Yoonji’s face twitched. This had been Jungkook’s third time trying to get something from the claw machine. Their group was crammed in a corner of the arcade in the bowling alley, a couple drinks in, squabbling for a damn Gengar plush for their newcomer. It wasn’t the situation that was bothering Yoonji, but rather how adamant Jungkook was that it had to be him winning it.

This guy is so freaking annoying.

Yoonji reached between their bodies and jammed her own tokens in.

“Go ahead, then.”

She shoved Jungkook’s shoulder and broke the shared gaze between him and his lady friend. Jungkook snapped his head to the machine, startled as the lights flashed and the red timer came on, letting out a surprised yelp as he fought to move the clunky claw back to the faceplanted Gengar.

He had never tried so hard before for his other friends.

Hmph.

“Oh, shit! YAH!”

“LET’S GOOOOOOO!”

“Taehyung, stop yelling!”

“Well, shit. You did it.”

“I told you I would,” Jungkook roared triumphantly, yanking out the purple Pokémon plush and holding it up like a prestigious award. “Da-dang!”

“Fourth time’s a charm?” she laughed as Jungkook grabbed her hands and spun them palm up to delicately rest the incredibly round Gengar plush on them. Yoonji noticed he didn’t linger and pulled away quickly. “Thank you, then, haha.”

Seokjin, Jimin, and Taehyung were acting like Jungkook had just won a damn rice cooker on a prestigious game show, crowding around him and giving him high fives. Yoonji shook her head, glad it was over, and felt a hand on her shoulder. Froze as she looked up to scorched eyes twinkling brightly in neon lights of the arcade machines.

“Here. Sorry you had to use your tokens for me.”

Yoonji tried to push back to the coins suddenly placed in her palm. “No, it’s fine, I don’t–”

“I wouldn’t want to owe you.”

“I–”

Then she froze, realizing her hands were clasped around the other woman’s right. Holding the Gengar plush in her left, tucked underneath her breasts. The naughtily cheerful grin was aimed straight at Yoonji, silently laughing as if it had seen and knew everything. Before she could react, a handful of coins was dumped in her palm and her fingers were closed around it, pinned by a dark cherry manicure. Middle, ring, and thumb trimmed short.

Her heartbeat shot up to her throat.

“Yoonji-noona, come play this one with me!”

Her head snapped up. The other woman smiled at her calmly. Park Jimin grabbed Yoonji’s sleeve and dragged her to a racing game. That didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. I wouldn’t want to owe you. Why not? What was wrong with her? What was so much better about dork-ass Jeon Jungkook who was sucked into playing Tekken versus Kim Taehyung without a second thought? The other woman turned away and went to stand behind Jungkook, next to their consistent heckler Kim Seokjin, still holding onto the Gengar plush. Yoonji turned to sit down next to Jimin, suddenly mad she didn’t think of the claw machine first, why, she could have done it in less tries, she was sure of it.

“You alright?”

“What?” she snapped.

Jimin raised his eyebrows at her. Yoonji stilled. Somehow, Jimin always knew something was up. Oh, he did care if his friends were having a hard time. He also low-key lived for drama. High-key, even. He was a sneaky bitch behind an innocent face. Instead of answering, Yoonji jammed tokens into the machine, both for Jimin and herself, and cocked her eyebrow back at his suspicious, searching expression, placing her hands on the steering wheel.

“I’m gonna smoke ya,” she declared.

“I haven’t yet – HEY!”

Yoonji absolutely demolished him in the virtual race. Twice. Get rekt, Jimin-ah.

-

Sulky.

Well, no. Not really.

A little bit.

Ugh, fine.

Min Yoonji silently admitted she was sulky.

Just trying to figure out what was so great about Jeon Jungkook. She flicked through his Instagram, not impressed. It was a pretty dead account, as Jungkook had been very into keeping an aesthetic layout for a few months and then promptly abandoned the account when he got tired of it. He had commitment issues. The aesthetic he had chosen was the digital photo, found film vibe that had been popular when the kid was literally in elementary school and probably had no idea what social media even was. His TikTok was somewhat similar, with lots of effects and editing in the short videos. Also mostly abandoned, although Yoonji suspected his accounts were more for lurking and liking stuff than displaying himself.

Jungkook had a few candid, artsy photos of him shirtless that Yoonji wished she hadn’t seen.

Hah, why post that if you can’t even provide a decent picture?

She found that she was lingering on a side profile photo of him for a few seconds. Black and white. Ghost of a smile on his lips and his short black hair messily over his crinkled eyes. From this angle, one could see the definition of his jaw and the mole on his neck, plus the three piercings on his left ear. His shoulder was bare, a medium-weight linked chain loosely hanging on his neck.

Abruptly, Yoonji swiped away.

He doesn’t have a single photo of her on here.

There were occasional photos that included Jimin and Taehyung, (including one of Jimin’s hand photobombing a seriously poised Taehyung, Yoonji could recognize that tiny pinky anywhere), but not really anyone else. This didn’t surprise Yoonji too much, as over half of the photos were scenery shots, but surely a photo of a pretty woman would get likes? She frowned, then froze. There was a reel posted way down there, towards the beginning of the account’s creation. At first, it hadn’t caught her attention since the photo was a black screen, but then she clicked on it and listened to the audio. It was someone playing guitar.

But not just anyone.

After about ten seconds of black screen, the camera lifted from its spot and it showed Min Yoonji several years ago, leaning over a black acoustic guitar, playing a melody she had made up on the spot. She remembered that night. She had been at Kim Namjoon’s house, they had gotten drunk, and Jeon Jungkook had shown up at three in the morning for who-the-hell-knows-what reason. She had brought her guitar that night on a low-key depressed whim. Namjoon dabbled in music too, sometimes, not just produced it, so Yoonji occasionally brought her guitar to play for fun. They were longtime friends.

She hadn’t noticed that Jungkook had filmed her.

The caption read, music that makes you fall in love.

“… What?”

It had startled her so much that she hadn’t even realized she spoke out loud.

Ah, what was she thinking? This was years ago. Past was in the past. There wasn’t anything else interesting on here. Funnily enough, the specific melody Jungkook had complimented, Yoonji had turned into a breakup song. Sure, she had never really published her music past her SoundCloud, but she still made songs for fun even though she wasn’t trying to become an idol or anything of the sort. Would be cool to be a producer though.

It was only a damn reel.

There was no serendipitous shit going on here.

Yoonji rubbed her eyes. They were close, yes. Jungkook often came to her for practical life advice when Namjoon was a bit too philosophical. His words, although Yoonji could agree. She was known as the pragmatic one in the group. Something she learned in therapy, actually. Focusing on what could be done right now instead of fixating on the what-ifs of the future. The youngest did exasperate her sometimes, however it was an endearing kind of exasperation that she welcomed. He, unlike some other young people, expressed his gratitude often.

He called her cute often, too.

Not that… Not that other people didn’t. Hoseok did all the time. Well, Yoonji did go to Hoseok a lot for outfit opinions when she had an occasion. Jungkook also expressed skinship, usually resting his head on Yoonji’s shoulder or putting a hand on her back, even though he didn’t usually imitate with other people. Physical touch was not something Yoonji liked. She tolerated it if it was Jungkook, but he really hadn’t been touchy since…

Wait.

Why the fuck was she thinking about Jungkook?

This ain’t about you!

Right. So, anyway, since Jungkook had started seeing this woman, he hadn’t posted her on his social media, hadn’t initiated physical touch with Yoonji, and expressed neediness when the two were alone but treated the lady like a friend when in front of his friends. He didn’t even invite her to their gatherings despite having many opportunities, yet also specifically made them all wait for him to win her a plush prize that directly related with her interests.

Which all equated to Jeon Jungkook sending the most confusing batch of mixed signals Yoonji had ever analyzed.

A muscle in her face twitched.

Yoonji chewed on her lip. She wondered if she should scroll through those Jungkook was following to maybe find the woman’s account. Was that going too far? Sure, social media profiles were generally public, but actively looking for someone for dubious reasons seemed wrong. Not that her reasons were dubious.

Right.

She looked back to her phone screen.

It was somehow displaying a photo of Jungkook’s naked back. Again, black and white. Standing in a gym. The background was slightly blurred, but the hint of Jungkook’s toned front was unmistakable. Yoonji frowned and swiped it away, scrolling distractedly. She didn’t think about him like that. He was a dork. The woman he was dating was smoking hot. Were they dating, though? That was the whole point of this investigation. For fuck’s sake. Although Jungkook gave the impression he was a playboy, Yoonji knew he wasn’t. He didn’t have the damn attention span to be a player and he was obviously scared of hurting other people’s feelings. Still, there weren’t any telltale signs of them dating-dating. Which shouldn’t bother Yoonji anyway, because she didn’t get involved in her friend’s dating lives, so why the fuck did she care?

Plus, she’s probably straight.

Jungkook was a pretty manly man.

But what if she’s not?

There was literally nothing Yoonji could work off of in that regard except for the look in those dark scorched eyes when she closed her hand around Yoonji’s hand, holding her tight and within direct eye contact. There was literally not a single reason for her to believe that look meant anything other than what was said.

And yet.

I’m being delusional.

Jungkook and her looked good together. Yeah. They were probably gonna work out. Uh huh. It was just rough for her because this was one of the first few real moments that Yoonji felt strongly attracted to someone outside of purely sexual reasons.

Woah.

Woah, hold on there.

She knew for a fact she liked women sexually. Her porn history was enough evidence of that. She had been attracted to women she had met over the years, sure, but never had Yoonji pursued a woman, both because of the social stigma and also because she figured only doing it for the sexual desire seemed wrong. If anyone found out, Yoonji didn’t want to feel like it was for nothing.

So why am I stalking Jungkook on Instagram just for a glimpse of her?

And Yoonji couldn’t like her. She barely knew her. Right? They couldn’t have developed any emotional connection in their very minimal interactions. Yoonji placed her phone down, backing away from it like it was a bomb. These impulses… She couldn’t stop thinking about the woman holding the Gengar next to her chest. Couldn’t stop thinking about Jungkook dancing her around on the sidewalk. Couldn’t stop thinking about the woman casually eating her dessert in the park as if she owned the whole damn world.

Did Yoonji want to be her?

Or did she want to be with her?

Yoonji hadn’t allowed herself to fantasize yet because fantasizing about a real person felt much more abhorrent than a total stranger. It was a door she couldn’t bear to open yet. And, worse.

She didn’t know if she could stop if she started.

-

ep 2. what a shame. (see you friday) sugar, spice, and everything nice

--

min yoonji masterpost | masterpost

[disastermages]

[read it on ao3]

cw for cheating, but with each other, not on each other

--

"Wei-xiong, have you heard about Lan Wangji?"

Nie Huaisang's voice is clear and pressing through the phone as Wei Wuxian leans one shoulder against the door of his apartment, the bag of groceries still hanging in the other hand while he searches for his keys.

The last time Wei Wuxian had seen Lan Wangji had been in his hotel room, they hadn't been able to go to Wei Wuxian’s place, he'd still been sharing an apartment with Wen Qing, Wen Ning, and their little cousin. It would have killed the mood entirely.

"I still have his number blocked, Nie-xiong." Wei Wuxian answers honestly, the door finally giving in with just enough bargaining.

Both Lan Wangji’s arms and his bed had been warm until Lan Wangji’s phone rang, and he'd told the person on the other end, his husband on the other end, that he was alone, and suddenly, Lan Wangji’s bed had nearly frozen Wei Wuxian in place.

He'd waited until Lan Wangji had hung up to climb out of it, pulling the sheet around himself, even as Lan Wangji's suddenly too heavy arms wrapped around his middle.

"Wei Ying, come back?" A steady line of kisses had started down Wei Wuxian’s back, but he'd pulled away and wrapped the sheet tighter around himself before he turned and smiled sadly down at Lan Wangji.

"Lan Zhan, listen, I'm going to shower, and then I'm going home." Lan Wangji did not and does not love his husband, Wei Wuxian knew it, but it hadn't made it any easier to choke down what they had just done.

Anyone who didn't know him wouldn't have been able to see the change in Lan Wangji’s face, but Wei Wuxian had watched sadness creep into his eyes. He hadn't had the heart to stop Lan Wangji from grabbing onto his wrist. "It is too late and dangerous for you to go back, stay here." With me, hadn't been said, but it had been there all the same when Wei Wuxian had begun the task of peeling Lan Wangji’s hand off of him.

"You know I can't, Lan Zhan, your husband wouldn't like it." His words had been cruel, but Wei Wuxian had still tucked a lock of hair behind Lan Wangji’s ear, though he hadn't set that hand on his cheek the way he might have in any other situation. "I'll message you, so you'll know I got home alright, but you won't be able to message me back."

"Why not?" Lan Wangji had looked far too hurt and far too young right then. It had nearly broken Wei Wuxian’s resolve.

"Because I'm going to block you, on everything." He couldn't leave any possibilities, Wei Wuxian had known that first, before anything else.

"Wei Ying,"

"That's enough, Lan Zhan."

When Wei Wuxian had left, Lan Wangji had trailed behind him, all the way to the sidewalk outside of the hotel, as if he had hoped Wei Wuxian would change his mind at the last minute.

He almost had.

Now, there's a pause from Nie Huaisang, his end of the call going almost completely silent, save for the sound of him tapping his fan against something.

"His divorce was finalized." Nie Huaisang says finally, the words running together as if he'd been holding his breath.

They startle Wei Wuxian enough to make him run into the coffee table, his shin smarting while he swears and Nie Huaisang calls his name.

"I heard Er-ge talking to Da-ge about it, Er-ge said that Lan Wangji mentioned you, but then I got caught." Despite everything, Wei Wuxian still chuckles at Nie Huaisang's flippancy. It hadn't changed between high school, college, or post-grad, Wei Wuxian is grateful for it.

"He hasn't been divorced for a month yet, Nie-xiong, I don't think he'll come knocking at my door to whisk me away any time soon." Lan Wangji might not come for him at all, and Wei Wuxian doesn't want that thought to hurt as much as it does, but it's easily pushed back down while he puts his groceries away.

It isn’t until later, while Wei Wuxian is cooking his dinner, when he hears a knock at his door, and it sounds all too familiar not to make him freeze where he stands. He thinks about standing in place until whoever is at his door leaves, but the sizzling of the prawns in the pan pulls Wei Wuxian back to the present. He turns down the heat until it hovers, small and blue, before he wipes his hands on a towel and walks towards the door.

He doesn’t need to look through the peephole to know who was standing on the other side.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji offers in way of greeting, surprise lightening his eyes to something soft. Wei Wuxian feels something twist in his chest.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian hears his own voice, but he doesn’t feel his mouth move, “you cut your hair.” Lan Wangji’s hair had been a dark waterfall down his back the last time Wei Wuxian had seen him, but now it’s cropped short, and Wei Wuxian wants to mourn the length it had been.

“You grew yours out.” Lan Wangji doesn’t take a step into his apartment, but he does start to reach for Wei Wuxian, his hand coming up slowly to catch the long end and run his thumb over it. This time, Wei Wuxian feels his mouth open and close, trying and failing to find something to say, but the point of contact is too much, and his words catch in his throat.

Something crackling and sputtering on the stove stops them both, and Lan Wangji’s hand drops back down to his side.

“My stove is still on.” Wei Wuxian says dumbly, pointing backwards into the apartment.

“Wei Ying has learned to cook?” There’s genuine surprise and curiosity in Lan Wangji’s voice, and Wei Wuxian barks a rough laugh. He hadn’t been able to cook anything without burning it hopelessly and over spicing it the last time Lan Wangji had allowed Wei Wuxian to try to cook for him. He’d had to take over less than halfway through.

“Only a little,” Wei Wuxian assures Lan Wangji, stepping back to allow him inside, though he knows he shouldn’t, “I’m still not as good as Shijie, but it’s okay, no one is.”

Lan Wangji’s cooking had been close, though.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t look back to see if Lan Wangji is following him into the kitchen, he knows he is, and it still sends a shiver down his back, even as Lan Wangji lingers in the doorway behind him. “See! It’s not even a little burned!” That wasn’t completely true, the prawns and the green onions had started to burn, but Wei Wuxian had managed to save them at the last minute, a feat he isn’t sure would have been possible without Lan Wangji on his heels. “Have you eaten yet? The prawns are already cooked, but I haven’t added the tofu yet, I could still make something vegetarian for you.”

What was he doing? He’d sworn he wouldn’t go running back to Lan Wangji again, but now he was inviting him to dinner.

But Lan Wangji had been a married man when Wei Wuxian had promised himself that he wouldn’t go back to him.

Lan Wangji was no longer a married man, though.

Turning to look at him, he catches sight of something soft and molten in Lan Wangji’s eyes, his hand braced tight against the doorway, as if he felt faint.

For a moment, all they can do is stare at one another while Wei Wuxian feels himself begin to soften too, his lips parting.

Finally, Lan Wangji speaks, “I will help Wei Ying cook.”

Everything Wei Wuxian had ever learned about playing host rises up then, he shouldn’t allow Lan Wangji to help, he was a guest, if anything, Wei Wuxian should push him back out into the living room and make him wait on the couch while he finishes up. Lan Wangji is already opening Wei Wuxian’s refrigerator and pulling out various vegetables, though, and he gives Wei Wuxian a look when he sees the state of what had once been a nice head of broccoli.

There’s comfort and familiarity in that particular look.

Wei Wuxian’s kitchen is barely large enough for his own chaos while cooking, but with the two of them working, it’s impossible not to feel the heat coming off Lan Wangji’s back against his own. He wants to press himself into it, just like he used to.

They work in silence, passing the cutting board back and forth awkwardly in the small space. Lan Wangji’s cuts and his knife skills are good, they always had been, but it’s with a smug satisfaction that Wei Wuxian notes that their skills at cutting up vegetables are evenly matched.

Lan Wangji lingers behind him, even after he’s finished his task, his eyes bearing into the back of Wei Wuxian’s head.

Before, Lan Wangji would have wrapped his arms around Wei Wuxian from behind, his nose would have nuzzled into his neck, and Wei Wuxian would have been greedy for it. It’s almost a comfort to know that he and Lan Wangji are just as unsure of each other now.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says softly, his fingers ghosting along the sleeve of Wei Wuxian’s hoodie, but not touching just yet, “come back to Gusu with me.”

A bitter laugh catches against the lump in Wei Wuxian’s throat, but they knock the words forward, “You haven’t been divorced that long, Er-gege, don’t you want to see if I’m really what you want? You don’t want to think about it?”

This isn’t a conversation they should be having in the kitchen, Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to argue in this kitchen.

“I have only thought of Wei Ying for six years, I know you are who I want. I do not need to think about it.”

“The plates are in the cabinet behind you, could you grab them, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks, instead of answering. Filling his mouth with silken tofu and prawns and all the vegetables Lan Wangji had tipped into Wei Wuxian’s pan would keep him from literally and physically jumping into Lan Wangji’s arms.

If Wei Wuxian were to turn around, he’s almost certain that he would see hurt in Lan Wangji’s eyes now, but he takes the plates from him blindly, murmuring thanks under his breath before he starts plating their dinner and directing Lan Wangji to the drawer of utensils.

Lan Wangji doesn’t fumble and open the drawer full of sauce packets and napkins first, he opens the right drawer on the first try.

“Your uncle won’t like it.” Wei Wuxian says, continuing the conversation after their empty plates have been stacked on top of each other on the coffee table. Lan Wangji hadn’t objected to eating on the couch with the TV playing on a low volume.

To his surprise, Lan Wangji deflates, “I followed my uncle’s wishes for eight years, but it did not change anything. I love you, Wei Ying. That is all there is.”

They hadn’t used that word for it before, Wei Wuxian hadn’t allowed it, because Lan Wangji had been married to someone else, but now, Lan Wangji wraps both of his hands possessively around one of Wei Wuxian’s, his thumbs stroking back and forth. It’s a plea, Wei Wuxian knows it is.

His mouth hangs open again, but this time Wei Wuxian does not reach and scrabble for the words, “It’s too late for you to go home, Lan Zhan, stay here tonight.” Wei Wuxian knows he shouldn’t, but he leans in close, his free hand coming to rest on Lan Wangji’s forearm.

“Will Wei Ying be here when I wake up?” Lan Wangji leans in, unafraid of what Wei Wuxian might do because of it.

“This is my apartment, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian laughs, and Lan Wangji’s hands tighten, squeezing and hopeful, “shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

“You should.” Lan Wangji agrees, allowing their lips to brush as he speaks.

“Lan Zhan, will you be here when I wake up?” Wei Wuxian asks, only half serious as he closes the distance left between them, his hand coming away from Lan Wangji’s forearm to rest on his neck, just like it used to.

“I will be here when Wei Ying wakes up.” Lan Wangji sounds breathless when they pull apart, but he makes his promise all the same, sealing it with another kiss, far sweeter than the one that had come before it.

There’s comfort and familiarity in it.

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

A little adhd sad story:

- purchases several packages of silken tofu from the internet since it’s not available in supermarkets in town

- forgets about them

- they expire

- is ashamed of having forgotten about them so doesn’t throw them away which would acknowledge the deed

- they’re still in the pantry

- ???

- for sale. expired tofu. never eaten

[ooooooooooop225]

Quiet Love

(Osamu x gn!reader)

[semi nsfw]

A/n: Kind of out of character, but not really depending on how you see him. Longest fic yet though. I wrote this on my phone, standing in the middle of a park, and I'm too tired to proof it a third time, so please forgive me.

Also, the beginning is kind of boring. Sorry.

(1051 words)

Tw: implicit depression

There’s a huge park near my house, one with bike paths, a recreation centre, and a lot of space for people to meander around leisurely. I would eat my supper there, I told myself. So I packed a small bento of the food I had made - steamed rice, cubed silken tofu, small florets of broccoli, irregularly cut cucumber salad - and put it in a tote bag, along with a can of Ito En oolong tea that I placed as to not have it fall over. Simple but good: perfectly seasoned and perfectly cooked. Hand sanitizer, napkins, cutlery - chopsticks of course - and my phone, keys placed at the bottom because I wasn’t going to be staying at my place that night.

I walked to the park, slightly breathless as I climbed the hill leading up to it. I arrived too early, more than an hour before the meeting time we had set. I decided to walk around the entirety of the space, slowly sipping on my tea and listening to melodramatic songs about broken hearts and lost love. Maybe I was jinxing myself, maybe I wasn’t. It didn’t matter - I’d find out later, and it wasn’t as if the random playlists I had come across on YouTube were going to determine the words that would be said tonight. Right? I was getting nervous, but trying to convince myself that it would all be fine in the end, I continued on my stroll, back straight, strides certain, eyes squinting at the sun that didn’t want to set yet. It was probably a good thing that we had set the rendez-vous to be closer to the time of pink and purple skies; it’d probably be a better setting than the too-bright sunlight of the early evening.

I finished my walk, an hour later, and I found a bench on one of the smaller, less popular gravel trails. It was visible from the recreation centre where we had promised to meet, so I didn’t worry too much about not being found.

I sit down and wait, back still straight. He comes only a few minutes after and heads towards me when he sees me, sitting calmly under the cool shadows of towering conifers. He sits next to me, offering a small but genuine smile, sweet like honey, his lips soft like marshmallows. I wonder what those lips feel like, and the colours of sunset unsuccessfully threaten to paint themselves on the tips of my ears. “Show me watcha’ made,” he drawls. It’s cute, the way he talks. I open the lid of my supper and he smiles again. “If ya didn’t cook so well yerself, I’d offer to cook for you,” he chuckles lightly, pulling out his own meal. He’s someone I don’t need to talk too much with, someone who can sit comfortably in silence with me, especially on those days when I don’t feel like talking, or listening, for that matter. Today’s an okay day though, and now that I’ve seen him, it’s a pretty good day. He lights up my life the same way a lone lightbulb can light up a whole warehouse, filling a desolate and empty space with bright warmth. Scratch that, he was much, much brighter and warmer than a lightbulb. Maybe the Olympic fire his brother had seen was a better comparison. Or maybe the sacred flame of Vesta, because to me, he was definitely sacred. If I had my way, he’d be sacred to everyone else too. I return to reality, one rendered significantly less sad by his presence. He’s splitting the bentos, eager to taste the dishes and even more so to have me taste his. Eager, but quietly eager, because he knows that I can get tired. That doesn’t mean that he can’t be annoying and loud though, especially with his golden-haired twin, but he knows that I don’t mind and that he’d notice if I did.

He’s excited, savouring every mouthful, jotting down notes in a notebook. If he studied like this for school, he’d definitely be top of his class, though I guess that that’s what shows how special food is to him. I finish eating, and he does too. A group of people start screaming and laughing unreservedly, hollering at each other at a table close to where we are. He notices and covers my ears with his large palms. I smile weakly at him. “It’ll be alright.” Eventually, the loud people leave. He removes his hands, softly brushing my face with his calloused hands. He sees a caterpillar inching its way across the bike path and picks it up. He sets it on my lap, well aware of my fondness for the cute critters - he would hate for the creature to get crushed by a two-wheeled monster and even more so for me to be saddened by it. I smile. He smiles too. It’s nice when we both smile, because our happiness becomes light bouncing between the mirrors of a kaleidoscope. A soft kiss on my cheek. Now I know for sure that his lips are even softer than marshmallows. We both know that he’d get teased endlessly for this if he did it at school. But we’re not at school, and even if we were, it wouldn’t matter. I stand up and tug softly at his shirt sleeve. He picks up his now-empty bento and stands up too. His happy humming a duet with the whispering wind, we head to his house, where we’ll be staying. “‘Samu. I love you,” the first words my mouth forms today. “Love ya too,” he grins, cheeky yet sincere, offering a warm hug after I stop in the middle of the sidewalk. He lets go and pops open a can of sparkling water. He takes a sip and hands it to me. I take a sip too, the sweetness refreshing, the flavour of pomegranate and black currant rolling off our intertwined tongues as we share a deep kiss.

And that moonlit night, he makes love to me. Still quiet, still soft, still genuine. Maybe life isn’t so loud. Maybe it’s worth it. I just need him to remind me of that sometimes. And that’s perfectly fine, since I know that he’ll be here for me, the same way I’ll be soundlessly there for him.

[artificialqueens]

Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 6/10 (Taywhora) - Juno

Chapter summary: For alternative ingredients week, the bakers are challenged by a vegan signature, a gluten-free technical, and a dairy-free showstopper which will threaten to derail them. Meanwhile, Aurora is confused by Tayce’s seemingly opposing actions. Bimini’s motives are a mystery to everyone in the tent. And Lawrence’s strange avoidance of Ellie may send her to breaking point.

WEEK 6: ALTERNATIVE INGREDIENTS WEEK

All of Aurora’s side had moved up one space following Asttina’s unexpected elimination last week. Now Lawrence was at the front of their row, with Ellie behind her and Aurora behind Ellie. On the other side there was Bimini at the front, followed by Tia, then Veronica, and Tayce at the back, still on her own as Aurora’s side dwindled each week.

It was the halfway point in the series, and Aurora wasn’t nervous any more.

Screw that. I’m Star Baker. None of them had better mess with me.

Five more episodes to go, and only four more eliminations. It almost felt like the home stretch.

Aurora was a little taller this week, letting her gaze drift around the much-emptier tent, wondering who the three finalists would be.

Me and Tayce for definite. But who else?

Bimini and Ellie had a badge each, while Tia, Veronica and Lawrence were yet to win one. But Asttina had won the first week and gone home.

Besides, they all had strengths and weaknesses. Ellie couldn’t get consistent in Technicals, but always made up for it with her Showstoppers, a seemingly boundless imagination in that head. And Bimini had been fair, not bad but not great; but they’d won Bread Week. Anyone who watched more than one season of this show knew that winning bread week was basically a Willy Wonka golden ticket to the finale.

Then again, Veronica was a great baker, and she had yet to have a disastrous round, even though she hadn’t exactly done anything groundbreaking either. And Lawrence was consistently in the top half of the pack, and Aurora thought she could have won Bread Week too - if Bimini hadn’t pipped her to the post.

That just left Tia. Tia, who could bake an amazing, light-as-air cake; whose rainbow-iced biscuits were just the right ginger flavour; and whose bread was delicious - but whose bakes always looked like she’d sat on them before presenting them. Great taste, but appalling presentation.

If she starts nailing the looks of her bakes, she’s gonna win a badge.

Still, badges didn’t guarantee you a place in the final. Asttina had already gone home; someone else with a badge might do the same this week.

What if it’s the Star Baker curse? Coming back to take us badge-winners out one by one? Maybe it will be badge-less finale?

But Aurora pushed that thought away.

There isn’t a Star Baker curse. That was just some previous seasons. You don’t win Star Baker and get eliminated the next week any more.

Bimini was grinning from ear to ear, and Aurora realised why - it was alternative ingredients week, and there was definitely something vegan in the pipeline for Bimini to excel at.

——

Signature: 6 vegan mini quiches.

“Prue and Paul would like you to make six vegan mini-quiches this week. Now, these are not quiches made out of vegans, but quiches made with no animal products at all - no dairy or eggs.”

“And of course the filling must also be vegan - so no meat or cheese for the flavourings.”

Aurora grimaced. Here we go.

This was the week Aurora had been dreading. She’d tried to make vegan cakes and gluten-free treats for her work with the shelter, but they’d almost always failed. She’d sworn off making anything for her best friend Blake, who was celiac, telling him to go find a professional baker.

“But that’s you!” He’d protested, nudging her as she declined to make him a birthday cake last month.

She’d sighed. “I’m not that good, mate. I don’t really want to kill you.”

He’d tilted his head. “Bit rich to think you could get rid of me that easily. If you kill me with a bake, I’ll just come haunt you. Rattle some chains at you like I’m fucking - Marley or whatever his name is.”

Aurora sighed at the memory. Trust Bookworm Blake to bring up a Dickens reference.

Once Matt and Noel had announced that it was time to start baking, Aurora grabbed the ingredients she needed and ran her pencil back down her recipe again. The dough for the pastry cases was straightforward enough - she had to replace the milk, but there were plenty of replacements, and Aurora had opted for oat milk, which she’d read was best for vegan baking.

The real challenge, and she thought everyone was thinking the same thing, came to the filling. She had her pastry cases ready to go in no time, but making the filling eggy but also egg-less would be the biggest issue.

God. What do vegans do about eggs?

“You alright, babes?”

Aurora met Bimini’s hazel eyes as they stood, leaning on their elbows at Aurora’s workbench.

“What - what are you wearing this week?” Aurora said finally. Bimini’s outfit this week was a red and silver jumpsuit under the plain beige apron, causing an absurd clash of colours. “You look like a can of Coke.”

“Oh, this old thing? I found it in the back of my wardrobe earlier this week. Nah,” Bimini waved their hand, “it’s a replica of an outfit Noel wore when he was in The Mighty Boosh. You know, that comedy show he did? You never seen it?”

“And he wore that?” Aurora nodded. “Okay. Well, I guess it looks as if it will repel food if you spill it on yourself.”

“You alright, anyway?” Bimini switched straight back to concern, a concern that Aurora was unsure was real.

We’re at mid-point. Is this some kind of game plan that Bim has?

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? Because baking something vegan is normally weird enough for people when they don’t have any vegans in their lives, but like, when it has to be egg-less, people tend to lose their minds a bit.”

“Well -“

Aurora faltered for a second too long; and that was enough of a cue for Bimini to round the corner of the workbench and sift through Aurora’s ingredients.

“Hang on. What are you replacing the egg with?”

“Uhm,” Aurora held it up. “Silken tofu. I thought I’d blend it and use that for the filling.”

Bimini gave a low whistle, nodding and evidently impressed. “Good choice! You just have to make sure you blend it so there’s no lumps. Whizz it up really fast. Give it a splash of oat milk too, you don’t want lumpy quiches. Oh, and if you have nutritional yeast, it will give it a really good flavour.”

Before Aurora could say another word, Bimini had skipped away to Veronica on the other side of the room. “You alright, babes?” She heard them say to her.

“What’s Bim doing?” Aurora asked Ellie as they went to the tea tent together.

Ellie shrugged. “Don’t know. They came over to me earlier and gave me some tips on the egg mixture.”

“They did the same thing to me! Did it help you at all? Are they - d’you think they’re playing the game?”

“Weird game to play,” Ellie shook her head. “And my egg mixture seems to be alright. What I’m wondering is when are they gonna make their own quiches? They’ve spent twenty minutes coming and looking at all ours instead.”

But when Ellie and Aurora went back to the tent, Bimini had put their pastry cases in the oven and was doing some sort of rap and dance with Noel, the cameras trained on them both.

This day is just getting strange.

While her own pastry cases were baking, Aurora watched the judges approach Tayce, who was a little behind the rest of them, still moulding her pastries into the cases and preparing the beads at the bottom of them to keep their shape whilst baking.

“Morning Tayce!”

Tayce blinked, for a second in a dream, before putting on her winning smile. “Bore da, judges! Fancy seeing you here!”

“Tell us a bit about your bakes.”

“Well,” Tayce leant over the workbench, surveying them through her eyebrows. “I’m making some mini quiches flavoured with onions, tomato, and broccoli.”

“What’s inspired that then?”

Aurora’s heart stopped beating for a moment as Tayce paused for a couple of seconds, and then chuckled, a strangely sad sound, her head suddenly dropping to hang.

She straightened back up, putting the winning smile back from where it had slipped.

“Makes me think of my Pops. Out in the allotment, digging around for onions and potatoes and all that stuff, he liked to bring me along and gave me a little trowel and let me dig for worms. He’d say, Oh, they’re good, worms, good for the earth.” Tayce paused, tentative, before her next words. “Would have been his birthday today.”

“That - all sounds very nice,” Prue said gently. “Best of luck! Can’t wait to taste them, Tayce.”

And they were gone, going out the tent to grab themselves a cup of tea for their own break. Tayce stared straight ahead for a few seconds, before biting her lip, turning her gaze down to the onions she was about to start cutting.

Aurora realised her own hand was on her chest, at the base of her throat.

——

In spite of the ingredients being a little unorthodox, not what she was used to at all, Bimini’s tip for blending the tofu worked surprisingly well, and when Paul and Prue had both praised her tomato, spinach and olive mini quiches - not Aurora’s idea, one her nan had told her to do to be ‘more posh’ - Aurora realised with a rush that almost everyone had had some good critiques this week, mostly on the quality of their egg replacements.

And they’d all been based on Bimini’s good advice.

Handshakes were being dished out like Oprah’s cars. Lawrence got a handshake, then Veronica got a handshake, then - Aurora gasped - Tayce got a handshake, looking flustered for the first time since Aurora had known her, with a high-pitched giggle that Aurora was unfamiliar with, and a gasp of “Who, me? Like this?”

“Contest seems to be heating up,” Aurora said, as they sat in Carr Hall’s common room during the break. “And we thought you were trying to sabotage us, Bim!” She said as Bimini approached them, grinning from cheek to cheek, a pile of mini quiches on their plate.

“I’m just happy I get to try everyone’s this week,” they replied, picking up one which Aurora recognised as her own, and biting into it. “God. It’s so harsh seeing loads of cakes and stuff each week and only being able to try your own.”

“I’ve tried vegan baking before, it just always goes tits up,” Tayce piped up, coming to sit down. “Like me on a Friday night. It goes flat, or it goes wonky donkey, or it falls over.”

“Is that the cake, or you on a Friday night?” Bimini nudged Tayce with their foot; Tayce responding by slapping their arm.

“Hey! Cheeky bitch. Bet I’m not the only one.”

Tayce was laughing and joking as usual, while Aurora couldn’t help chewing her lip. It was a little uncomfortable, Aurora found, being around Tayce right now.

Last week had been the strangest week yet. She’d found herself floating through it in a mixture of fun at flirting playfully with Tayce, a little bit of pride at being the centre of attention for once, and trying to let herself enjoy the baking in the same way she did when she baked for her friends - filling it with love and good thoughts and positivity.

And it had worked. A bright badge in the shape of a dessert sat on her chest.

But the day of the Showstopper, things felt distorted again.

She’d known this whole flirting thing was meant to be a play for the cameras. That was what Tayce had implied only two weeks ago, that their romance was mainly for on-screen. But last weekend, Tayce in her bed, warm and secure and silent, was heavenly; both of them comfort for each other during this time, and Aurora dared to hope that Tayce might be starting to feel the same way as she did …

… until she’d woken up the next morning to find an empty bed, a cold spot where Tayce should have been.

And then again in the evening, just the two of them. Tayce hadn’t even responded to her kiss, instead opting to leave straight after, as if she didn’t want to be around her at all.

Aurora didn’t understand, all her thoughts about what was going on and what this blur from fake flirting into actual closeness was … tangling into one big worrisome knot that occupied most of her mind.

Does she have any feelings for me at all, or … is this fake-flirting thing a really elaborate scheme to distract me and get me sent home?

——

Technical: 12 Gluten-free pitta breads

“Any tips for the bakers this week, Paul?”

“Yes.” Paul straightened up. “The ingredients are there to be used.”

At the relative silence throughout the tent, Matt shrugged. “Alright then. That’s nice and clear. They have to leave the tent now, so goodbye judges!”

Once the judges had gone, and the Technical had been announced, Aurora shut her eyes, her fingers drumming on the workbench again. Gluten-free pitta bread? This week was going to be even more hell.

She focused on making notes on her instructions, and once she’d got her ingredients into the KitchenAid, she was starting to feel a little calmer, as she did once things were starting to move. She was running her pencil down her notes when her thoughts were interrupted by a voice in front of her.

“You alright, babes?”

She looked up to see Bimini leaning over her workbench, chin in their hands. Aurora tried to hide the frown. Again?

“Hi. No - no. I can never get gluten-free baking right. My best friend is celiac, and I haven’t managed to make anything he can eat that doesn’t look like a mess.”

“More xantham gum than you think,” Bimini muttered with a wink. “That’ll make it less crumbly. Oh, and if you rest it, it will help the bake.”

When Bimini skipped away again, over to Tayce to most likely give her the same tip, Aurora stared dumbstruck after them for a good ten seconds before shaking her head in wonder and adding another teaspoon of xantham gum to the dish.

“Did he say they wanted six pitta breads?” This time it was Ellie’s voice that made Aurora look up.

“No - twelve.”

“Ah - alright.”

Aurora concentrated on kneading the dough, trying to give it as much air as possible, when she was interrupted again, this time by a gentle but familiar hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at Tayce, who held a cup of tea in her other.

“Thanks.”

The cameras were absent, pointed at Bimini and Noel doing some dance at Bimini’s workbench, rapping along to something.

“You looked like you could do with some tea. Giving that dough some welly, aren’t you?”

Tayce’s voice was strangely subdued, her fingers twisting in front of her. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to savour it. “I love the smell of dough. Makes me think about my nana’s house. She was always baking stuff. Her whole kitchen smelled like a bakery.”

She was stopped in her reminiscing by Ellie knocking her baking tray to the floor with a crash. Pushing her hair behind her ears, Tayce nodded to Aurora.

“Right. Well. Better get back to it.”

And Aurora stared at her retreating back, wondering what had come over Tayce today. She wasn’t really as flirty, more … caring, even bringing over tea for her. This whole arrangement was just getting more confusing. It was supposed to be fake, but now lots of threads of what seemed like care were starting to entwine themselves into the knot her mind was in.

I just can’t think about Tayce right now. It’s too confusing. Focus on pitta bread.

By the time Aurora was laying out her pittas on the baking tray, Ellie spun round to her again, hands clutching at her hair.

“Is it six pitta breads?”

Why am I bloody Wikipedia all of a sudden today? And didn’t she just ask me this a minute ago?

“Eleanor,” Aurora said sternly, while Ellie grimaced, seeming to shrink slightly.

“I know, I know -“

“It’s on the top of the instructions as well - look - twelve pitta breads! I think you need a break or something, Els,” Aurora pointed outside. “Why don’t you take two minutes or something?”

But Ellie’s hands, still in her hair, balled into tight fists as she spoke, sounding a little hysterical. “I can’t - it’ll spoil - I don’t -“

“Ellie, go outside! Go on! You’re panicking!”

As Ellie marched past her outside, Aurora watched Tia, her breads already in the oven, rushing out after her. But Lawrence, in front of Aurora, simply glanced to the clear partition of the tent briefly, before turning back to putting her bread on the baking tray.

“Lozza?” That was Tayce, who had noticed the same thing. But Lawrence didn’t seem to hear her, even though everyone else in the tent did.

“Lawrence -“

“I’ll go get her in a tick, alright?”

Aurora swallowed, watching Lawrence as she arranged her breads, putting them in the oven, and she had no choice but to do the same; time was running out for them all.

It wasn’t long before Tia led Ellie back into the tent, arms linked, as Tia dropped Ellie off at her bench and stopped for a second to talk to her. “It’s just a bake, alright? Sometimes bakes go wrong for whatever reason, and that’s okay! Remember, you can only get better from making mistakes, alright?”

And Ellie nodded, grabbing her dough to shape into the pitta breads. Tia gave her one last squeeze on her forearm before heading back to her own bench to carry on her pittas, which were starting to look a bit flat.

Hopefully that will be the kick Ellie needs to turn this bake out.

When it came to judging, she sat with Tayce, who nudged her in the ribs with an oddly saccharine smile. Ellie still looked subdued on her other side, so she took her hand, rubbing it with her thumb, but to no reaction.

“In seventh place, we have this one, whose is this?” Paul motioned to Ellie’s plate, and Ellie defeatedly raised her hand no higher than her chin.

“Ellie - far too much baking powder in these, it burns the tongue - and a little bit over-baked, we expect them to still be soft in the middle.” Paul nodded to her, but Ellie just blinked in response, pursing her lips.

“And in sixth place -“

“Oh, that’s me,” Tia replied, raising her hand.

“Tia, these are burnt. I know you tried to scrape them a little so it looks a little bit better, but they cracked when we tried to bend them.”

“Okay,” Tia nodded, the earnest smile still on her face. “Next time.”

Aurora still cringed to herself whenever Tia said next time in response to her disasters. When in the name of Dawn French would she ever have to make gluten-free pitta breads again?

Maybe she has a bestie who’s celiac that she really wants to make some bakes for. Like Blake is.

The realisation stung Aurora harder than she thought it would. After all, she’d been wondering if she could make these for Blake one time. She leaned forward and saw Tia, no tears, no self-pity, graciously smiling at Veronica as Veronica tried to comfort her.

She never makes excuses. She’s never sorry for herself. She just … tries again.

Maybe that was it. This competition was about self-improvement, wasn’t it? Aurora pictured how happy Blake would be if she told him when she got back that she’d made something gluten-free and that she could now bake more things the same way.

How much she’d grown as a baker only in these six weeks.

“Whose is this one?”

Tayce was nudging her, and Aurora saw that Paul was behind her photograph. She raised her hand.

“Aurora - really good bake, well done. It just came down to the colour on this one. Which means the winner is … this one!”

Second in Technical! That’s gonna help at this point.

She joined the polite applause given to Veronica for her top placement, Veronica’s mouth agape in apparent shock. But as they all trudged out to the tent for their interviews, she watched Veronica spin in elation, her balled fists in the air to celebrate her placement, as if she’d expected it all along.

How much of any of this is real?

——

“Are they annoyed at us?” Veronica murmured, watching Tia and Ellie on their own on the opposite side of the room. They’d both opted to sit alone together, chatting quietly at first, both pallid and shaky, but now they sat silently, staring at the ceiling fan as it turned.

“I don’t think so -“ Aurora began, but Lawrence was chewing her finger again, and Veronica’s jaw twisted as she watched them. “I mean - you got top and third in Technical, you’re doing good - and they’re happy for you -“

“They don’t look fucking happy,” Lawrence muttered.

“They are, honest to God,” Aurora said, trying to calm Lawrence’s evident nerves, “but like … it’s hard, isn’t it, seeing people do better than you at this stage in the competition? We’re all here to win, at the end of the day.”

“We are all here to win, but …” Veronica trailed off with a sigh. “Me and Tia … we’ve really bonded.”

“You’ll still be friends afterwards! Or - y’know, whatever you two are.”

“What’s that meant to mean?” Veronica snapped.

“It’s pretty obvious to anyone with eyes, Veronica,” Lawrence added, “I don’t think you can really try to downplay that one.”

“Oh, right?” Veronica’s face grew redder with every second. “What about you then, Lawrence, if we’re bringing that up? You’ve been trying to avoid Ellie since Tayce said she saw the two of you canoodling after Asttina’s elimination last week!”

Lawrence’s jaw dropped open, and she frowned. “Canoodling? Did you really just say canoodling in a sentence?”

“I’m gonna go outside if you two are going to just argue,” Aurora muttered, shaking her head, standing to walk away from them both.

Her feet led her outside into the warm evening glow, watching the first of the stars come out into the deepening blue of the sky. The trees around the grounds caught the last orange light, a ring of fire, still a hot pressure cooker of a contest.

Aurora knew where Tayce would be. Through the grounds by the trees was a lake they’d found only last week, that Bimini had told her about, having found it on their morning run. And sure enough, she found Tayce on the bench, leaning on one elbow and kicking dirt with her shoe.

In spite of the confusion in her mind, Tayce still drew her in like a magnet.

When Aurora came to the bench, she startled Tayce momentarily, before Tayce’s easy smile came back, and Aurora sat with her, pulling her close into a one-armed hug.

“Hey.” Tayce gently disentangled herself, still not sounding herself. “Coming to see me?”

“I can’t stand being around those lot any more,” Aurora huffed. “I don’t know what’s going on with any of them, but it feels like you can cut the air in the room with a butter knife, for God’s sake.”

“They’re just annoyed because one of them is getting eliminated tomorrow.”

Aurora blinked at her strangely sharp words. Tayce scuffed the dirt with her shoe, turning to meet Aurora’s stare and to give her a reassuring smile, but it didn’t stretch to her eyes, and she looked as if she almost didn’t seem to believe it herself.

“You got a bit emotional earlier as well, when you were talking about your quiches.”

Tayce shrugged. “Yeah, yeah I did a bit.” She turned back away to scuff her shoe again, a little rougher than before.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged. “Not much more to tell, really, just me and my Pops going to get veggies from the allotment. He had tomatoes in his greenhouse. And broccoli. He had loads of veggies.”

“Did he bake with you too?”

“Yeah. Actually, he liked making a quiche or two. Normally with ham, but he used to let me put the beads in the pastry tins to keep the crust from moving. Or he’d make a pie and let me do all the crimping on the edges.”

Tayce’s smile was fading as she spoke, leaning her head back to look at the sky.

“I miss him.”

Three words that hit Aurora right in the middle of her chest.

Her own eyes welling up, she rubbed Tayce’s back, until Tayce shuffled nearer and let herself drop her head to Aurora’s shoulder, let Aurora pull her in tightly, sitting silently to count the stars as they came out of their hibernation.

“It’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Aurora asked.

“I dunno, just - it’s weird the things that remind you of people.”

“That doesn’t sound weird to me.”

“I mean …” Tayce began, but she stopped, twisting to get comfortable. “Oh, it doesn’t matter.”

Tayce was an elastic band, pulling away before snapping her back with a modicum of tenderness, and letting Aurora back in to see through some of the cracks in her armour. Just enough to keep Aurora hanging on, so it felt.

It was exhausting.

——

Showstopper: A dairy-free, vegetable-based novelty cake.

The Showstopper seemed straightforward enough. Everyone liked carrot cake, right? At least, Aurora enjoyed a slice of the orange stuff, although when she’d mentioned it to Ellie this morning she’d wrinkled her nose in an adorably disgusted manner.

“What’s yours going to be, then?” She’d asked.

“Beetroot.”

“Beetroot?”

“Yeah,” Ellie had nodded earnestly, “like, I know it sounds a bit weird, but trust me, when you mix it with chocolate it tastes like heaven.”

Aurora hadn’t pushed the matter any further, but a bigger part of her than she anticipated was hoping Ellie could pull it off. After all, she and Tia were practically tied for worst at the moment, and as much as Aurora was growing to like Tia, she and Ellie had bonded far more.

On Aurora’s left, she watched Tia chopping sweet potatoes that would form the basis of her own cake, ready to cook and then go into the mixture. Veronica, in front of her, was also making sweet potato cake, but Aurora wasn’t worried about Veronica.

When she and Tayce had spoken about who she thought would excel at this week, they’d both said Bimini above everyone, but Veronica had been the shock frontrunner, the dark horse, as she had been all this contest. Veronica tended to keep to herself, grinding her teeth and locking her jaw, a cool stare keeping everyone away.

How someone as uptight as Veronica had thawed to someone as lackadaisical as Tia was anyone’s guess.

“Yeah, I guess she’s a bit stiff,” Tia had shrugged when asked about Veronica, “and yeah, don’t mention anything about the two of us to her, she’s a bit nervous about it being public yet. But we actually have loads in common. She’s really arty. She painted one of the scenes I photographed and showed it to me this weekend, and that meant a lot.”

“She - she paints?”

Tia had shown them all Veronica’s instagram, where Veronica had painted breathtaking scenes and posted them there. Watercolours mostly, with the odd acrylic, some experimental but mostly true life, leaping from the screen and into their minds.

Veronica might not be quite making the same art as usual now, but her bakes definitely showed some artistic flair when she presented them. They always had to be just so. And her colour palettes were always a theme in the judges’ comments.

“Well,” she’d grinned nervously this morning at breakfast when asked, “I’m left-handed. So I’m a bit arty farty, yeah.”

Aurora stole glances around the room as always, seeing Bimini with Tia a lot more today, leaning over her workbench and giving her guidance. Ellie looked a little less nervous, but she and Lawrence still weren’t really communicating.

Maybe Lawrence really is trying to avoid her. Or maybe they’re avoiding each other.

But Ellie had changed the subject this morning when Aurora had tried to bring it up. Turning the conversation back to her and Tayce.

And that was complicated enough.

This morning was the second weekend in a row she’d found herself falling asleep with Tayce in her bed, and the second weekend in a row she’d woken up in the morning to find an empty space there again.

It was a strange, numbing place, and Aurora wasn’t even sure what they were at the moment. Sure, they’d agreed to put on a bit of a show for the cameras. And Aurora could deal with that, with the playful nicknames, the kisses, the touch that didn’t feel tender enough to be more than method acting.

But Tayce spending the night in her bed had been an odd addition. Aurora had held her hand as she’d drawn her back from the pond, and they’d both ended up back in her room again, Netflix on, curled up into one another under the duvet.

All it had taken last night was half an episode of Glow before their hands and arms had intertwined, drawing them nearer still, into slow breathing in tandem with each other. Tayce purring at Aurora’s fingers as she played with her hair, until her breathing had relaxed even more and Aurora had looked down to see Tayce asleep at her chest, too serene to disturb by shifting her.

Nothing about it felt like an act. In fact, it was practically the opposite - bare bones, honesty, sincerity.

A far cry from the motions in the tent.

“Hey, babe. How’s the carrots?”

Speak of the devil.

Before Aurora had the chance to look up, she felt Tayce’s fingers at her waist, her chin resting on her shoulder.

Tayce seemed to be feeling a little better this morning. Her relaxed smile was back, her eyes glinting with the same mischief, and Aurora’s stomach was turning somersaults at the contact.

“Carrots are good. Just grated far more than I’ll need, just in case. What are you making with yours?”

“I’m making carrot cake too!” Tayce chuckled in her ear, sending a shiver down Aurora’s neck. “What a coincidence. It’s almost like we’re really in tune with each other. I hope you haven’t read my mind on what my flavours will be as well?”

But as Aurora looked, two cameramen were following them over to Tayce’s bench, as Tayce’s hand hovered at her back. “Carrot and cream cheese replacement, and I’m gonna shape it into a cow’s head, because … you know, no dairy?” Tayce chuckled. “I’m a comedy genius!”

“So we’re a bit different then,” Aurora nodded, as Tayce rested her head at her shoulder. “I’m adding diced pecans to mine.”

“So different then,” Tayce interrupted her, smirking, a hideously fake giggle bubbling at her throat. “That’s good. We’re just doing carrots at the same time! Imagine if we’d had the same recipe and the same idea. That would be strange, wouldn’t it!”

She’s trying a bit too hard now.

Tayce’s fingers were looped round her waist, her head on her shoulder; but she didn’t seem to be listening, just talking at the cameras pointed at them both. Aurora disentangled herself from Tayce’s touch and smiling as widely as she could, backed away.

“You going back to your bake?”

“Yeah - lots to do, Tayce,” Aurora muttered through gritted teeth.

“Alright. Cwtch you later.” Tayce cocked an eyebrow as she smirked, but Aurora’s stomach twisted at how sinister her words seemed to sound on her tongue.

——

“Veronica, would you bring your cake up to the front please?”

Veronica was last this week - the judging had been in alphabetical order - but Aurora had also barely been concentrating. Tayce’s actions this afternoon had confused her yet again, and she’d tried to avoid speaking much to Tayce for the whole rest of the day, but that hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped. Tayce had come over regularly, and cameras had followed them both around.

“It’s - it’s a sweet potato cake flavoured with almonds, and the icing is dairy-free buttercream with a vanilla flavour.”

Veronica was giggling nervously, while the rest of the people in the tent smiled at her. But Aurora’s mind span in a whirlwind of thoughts.

What if Tayce really is trying to distract me? To throw me off?

The thought struck her over the head, a sudden bolt of lightning that left her numb with the shocking gravity of it.

No. Tayce is trying to keep attention on us. She’s trying to help us.

… or at least help herself.

But Aurora hastily pushed that notion away. After all, everyone else in the tent was also fighting for that attention, whether they meant to or not.

Take Bimini, and their absurd dancing and rapping with Noel, what they insisted was called a crimp, whatever that meant. Was that genuine, or was that the result of them all being on the show? Maybe Bimini was a bit of an exhibitionist, but maybe they weren’t - maybe it was a front.

Was that really all that different to Tayce wanting to play up their relationship to the cameras?

How do I know that she feels anything for me at all?

“Beautiful. Beautiful flavours, you don’t get anything apart from a rich, sweet cake, and the design is ingenious. Really great week for you, Veronica.” Prue was smiling her sweet smile, and Veronica hunched shyly into her shoulders as she took the cake back.

The fog of dread was descending on them all as they walked back to Carr Hall. The bakes were always put on a table for them to try, before being given to the crew at the end of the day; but no one really felt like eating anything as they went in, the fog following them all.

“We don’t want anyone to go home at this stage,” Veronica said grimly.

They all knew what she really meant, Bimini more than anyone, as they nodded and stretched their legs out. “It’s shit. I feel like a jinx. Get too near to me, and you’re gone. Happened to Ginny, then Asttina.”

Aurora thought back to the judging for Bimini’s Showstopper, which hadn’t gone as well as any of them had thought.

“I thought this week was yours for the taking, Bim,” Aurora said quietly, cautious. “It’s all vegan stuff, and alternative ingredients. No one would have thought you’d be getting those sorts of critiques.”

Everyone murmured in agreement. The judges has been kind as always, but it was clear that Bimini had landed themselves in trouble at the expense of helping out everyone else in the tent, helping them all with their recipes.

“Well, I did.”

They all turned to stare at Bimini’s dark words.

“Bim?”

“It’s my own fault. Well, not even really a fault. But somewhere between Asttina going home and me coming back here this weekend, I decided it’s probably not important.”

“What isn’t?”

“A cake stand.” Bimini laughed bitterly. “That’s what it is! A cake stand. And I can get one of those from M&S. I could get Joe to come with me. No, I knew this was gonna be an okay week for me, so …” they shrugged, “I wanted to help you all out too. So it looks like I didn’t really … try.”

But Bimini was smiling still.

“I mean, it’s not all bad, is it? You can now all bake vegan quiches. You can make stuff for your intolerant mates, or your vegan mates, when you get back. That’s more important to me than winning this week - getting you all to be able to make more stuff vegan for your friends. Anything you can bake, I can bake vegan, and I feel like spreading awareness is gonna be better in the long run than me winning a badge!” They waved a fist in the air.

“Don’t you … want to win?” Aurora asked.

Bimini paused for half a second too long before nodding.

“I do want to win, course I do - but this show is a platform as well, know what I mean?”

——

When the producer came in to call them back to the tent for the elimination, Aurora watched as Ellie jogged to Tia to hug her around the waist, both of them holding back to let the others go, Tia wiping tears from her cheeks as they stood there.

As Aurora left them to it, she walked into Lawrence, at the doorway, watching the entrance intently.

“Lozza?” Tayce called to her from the grounds, but Lawrence waved them on.

“I’m coming - see you inside.”

Lawrence and Ellie were last in the tent, the rest of them on their stools while they waited, no one quite sure what they were doing outside. But when Aurora finally watched Lawrence come in with Ellie, both of them had red eyes and Lawrence’s eyeliner was running as they sat down.

Veronica put a hand to her mouth at being called for Star Baker. Aurora clapped her politely, while Tia smiled widely and rested her head on her shoulder, pulling her into a one-armed hug.

But Tia was biting her lip, waiting for the call for the next person to leave the tent. They all knew it was between her and Ellie, and Aurora could hear Lawrence whispering to Ellie, who was staring straight ahead as usual, but she couldn’t make any words out …

“Tia. I’m so sorry, Tia.”

Veronica’s hand, lingering at her mouth, shook as she gasped.

But Tia, her face deadpan as ever, tilted her head. “Are you sure? Positive? I mean, I don’t have any other plans, so …”

Aurora managed a laugh at Tia’s attempt at humour at the situation, but she appeared to be the only one. Bimini’s eyes were downcast as they got up to hug Tia, and Tayce was rubbing Veronica’s back to comfort her. Lawrence had her arms linked around Ellie’s waist while Ellie dabbed her eyes.

“Come on, Els - it’s fine, I knew it would be me -“ Tia wrapped an arm around them both, unable to disentangle Lawrence from her, drifting over to Aurora next, and then Tayce.

Veronica, both hands in hers, stared up at her with eyes pooling with tears, as Tia bent to whisper something in her ear, causing Veronica to snort with laughter and double over, before tugging Tia towards her, wrapping her arms around her waist, Tia dropping kisses on her forehead before they both left the tent for their winning and exit interviews.

“What did Tia say to you?” Aurora asked Veronica later on, when Veronica came back to Carr Hall, her face red and eyes bloodshot.

“Oh,” Veronica snorted again. “It’s nothing, just silly stuff -“

“It must have been good, if it made you perk up?”

“Alright,” Veronica said, sniffing. “She said - she said If I had a badge, I’d be leaving it to you in my will. That was it. I don’t even know why I found it funny, but it was at the time.”

Tayce threw back her head in a laugh. “Only way you’re getting another badge, Vee!”

Veronica blinked before smiling, more like a grimace; but Aurora’s blood had frozen at Tayce’s comment. The languid smile on her face, the flash in her eyes, just made Aurora question Tayce’s intentions even more than she already was.

Tayce had changed.

The woman who had helped her cut and load her brownies only two weeks ago, now tossing verbal barbs at any opportunity. Yesterday about Tia and Ellie. And now to Veronica. And as much as she was madly attracted to Tayce, there was no denying that doubt crept around the edge of Aurora’s mind at this new development, unsure what Tayce was truly thinking.

What would she be saying about me if I’d gone?

——

SIX BAKERS REMAIN

[shreddedparchment]

Heavy is the Hand You’re Dealt

Part 2

08/31/2019

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Thor x Reader     Word Count: 7,541

Masterpost          Warnings: Smut, language, ANGST, Endgame canon

Challenge Prompt: Imposter - Bearson

A/N: So, I had every intention of making this a two-parter...fml, right? But I think three parts is more appropriate. This one ends where it needed to. A lot happens and I think we all need time to digest. I hope you all like it. I really do. I love @youngmoneymilla as a writer (and human--let’s be honest) and I so want to rise to this challenge. As always, any feedback on what you loved or what spoke to you the most is appreciated. Any reblogs are as well. Thanks. xoxo P.S. Sorry I used so many gifs.

It’s eerie how quickly the world changed. In an instant it’s all become so…alien.

The sounds of the city have not been the same since that day. It’s too quiet. The hustle and bustle muted. Hardly any animals.

Soy again tonight? Tofu with roasted tomatoes?

Or maybe tofu burgers? Maybe you can convince Steve to splurge and get him to buy himself a real burger. Beef.

Animals breed faster than humans so, the price is falling. Finally, after five years, burgers are almost affordable.

It’s all about soy now-a-days.

The familiar jiggle of keys in the deadbolt pulls you slightly out of your dinner contemplation. Eyes frozen on the hazy glass, dark skies looming overhead. Thunder crackles, clear and sharp. It shatters your concentration and you lean forward, tilting your head up to look at the swirling slate clouds.

“It’s gonna rain.” You say, the front door quietly closing followed by the setting down of keys and the hanging of a jacket.

Soft thumps on your hardwood floor move closer, stopping just behind you as two large hands come to rest atop your shoulders. A kiss to the back of your head. Lingering. The hands move down along your biceps, a warm silken caress raising goosebumps along your skin.

As they reach your elbows, they transfer onto your sides and wrap around your waist.

His heat curls around you from behind and you tilt your head up and to the side to look at him as he leans down and buries his face against your neck.

“Hey, you okay?” You frown, the tremor in his chin and the crinkle of his brow means trouble. “Steve?”

He sniffles once, wrapping his arms around you tighter.

You almost cry too because it’s hard to see him quake. Your rock. Your center. He’s still so…shaken. You’ve tried to do as much as you can. You’ve  tried to help but maybe you aren’t enough? He’s quiet about it but sometimes, like now, he’s almost like a child. Searching for reassurance and comfort.

You twist around in his arms, hands placed on his cheeks as you pull his head up to stare into those beautiful eyes.

The pine green plaid shirt he’s wearing brings out the small flecks of emerald around his pupil. They’re sea green today.

“How was the group?” You probe, making sure to keep your voice light as he sniffles again, eyes red, cheeks flushed.

You miss his beard but without it, you can see him cry and you’re grateful. He’s open with you—more than with anyone else—yes, but he’s also withdrawn. Secretive. You have to pry things from his lips at times and you know it’s only because his life has changed again.

He went into the ice and woke up in modern day. You’d been around to help with that. And now he’s plunged into this nightmare after the snap and you know that he’s struggling. He blames himself. They all do.

You wipe the tears from his cheeks, loving him so much and thankful because he can fall apart in your arms now when before he’d been so careful to keep up the façade. This is progress.

“The group’s fine. One of the guys went on a date.” Steve’s voice is lower than normal. Deep baritone as he struggles with his sorrow. “He’s got a second one lined up for tomorrow.”

“That’s good.” You praise him, knowing he needs it. He’s is making a difference. Always striving to help. “Right? It’s working.”

His effort. It’s worth it.

“Yeah.” He sniffles one last time and stands up straighter, breathing in slowly then exhaling as he traces the shape of your hips.

Like a magnet, his hands draw you closer. You push yourself up onto your toes, knowing this need better than his other ones. Five years with Steve has taught you his ins and outs. You’d already known him fairly well before the world had ended but now, on this barren planet, you know him better than you know yourself.

You’ve seen his highs—most of those before the Snap—and you’ve seen his lowest of lows.

You know when he needs your words and when he doesn’t.

Like now.

He kisses you, soft lingering pecks as his body molds itself to yours. He steps towards you, pelvis first, searching, needing, desperately. Arms crushing your chest to his.

“I need you.” He whispers, sending shivers down your spine.

Five years and you still can’t believe that Steve wants you. That he comes home to you. He sleeps next to you.

“I’m here.” You promise him, tracing the shell of his ears before you slide them up into his growing blonde locks.

Steve’s face changes, eyes darkening as he backs you up against the wall beside the window you'd been staring out of.

Thunder rumbles again and the torrent begins, loud against your window.

He comes at you, mouth open, tongue sliding out to tangle with yours and you taste the watered-down coffee from his meeting. As his right hand pushes against the small of your back to keep you up against him, his other hand slides down to hold your bum to keep it still as he thrusts against you.

It’s wild movement. Chaotic and almost lost in desire.

“Ooh, Steve…” You moan against his mouth.

“Mmmph.” He groans and pulls back.

Reaching down for your hand. He takes it, leads you to your shared bedroom, then sits you on the edge of the bed. In silence he kneels before you, pulls at the button of your jeans as he leans in to kiss you in more wet lingering pecks.

You work on his jeans too, tugging them open until there’s enough space for your hand and you slide in past his waistband to find his cock, hard and throbbing.

Steve's hands stutter as you grab hold of him and begin to stroke. You squeeze him, soft pliable flesh, burning skin, the thought of that salty taste of him already coaxing your lips apart.

Your touch calms him. He moves his hands to rest on either side of your hips on the bed as you work him, elbows trembling with your touch. You pass your thumb over the head of his cock and feel him quiver as he drops his head and leans forward to rest it against your breasts.

He buries his face in them. Relishing in the relief you’re giving him, groaning against them, slowly nudging them with his nose.

Wrapping your arm around his head, you kiss the top, over and over as your hand speeds up.

Steve’s find your waist and he coaxes your shirt up to slide his fingers against your skin. His exploration becomes tender, less frenzied as he trails the pads of his fingers over your ribs and back behind you to unhook your bra. When it’s loose, he slides his hand up over your breasts, kneading them softly.

Finally, he lifts his head, pushes your shirt and bra up to take you pert nipple into his mouth.

“Steve…” You mewl as he suckles, his tongue making long slow circles leaving wet marks around the pebble.

He leans back and you stand up. He stands with you, hands pulling your shirt up over your head. You begin to squat down, eager to taste him, but he catches your elbow and stands you back up.

“No.” He says gently. “I wanna see you.”

You blink, surprised by the sadness still within those blue eyes.

If that’s what he needs…

You unzip your pants and strip, stopping only when you’re laid bare before him all woman curves and wanting flesh.

He touches you, your arms, your shoulders, your hips, massages the curve of your ass and turns you around to slide a strong hand down the center of your back while the other wraps around your front and slides down along your stomach to your swollen nub.

He presses down on it and you whimper, biting your lip hard as his other hand pushes your back forward and he grinds against your bum. The rough fabric of his jeans chaffing but the bulge of his cock tempting.

He pushes you until you’re at the edge of the bed, chest flat against the mattress, ass up in the air towards him.

You can hear the slide of his zipper and turn your head on bed so that you can look back at him. He pulls his shirt off, exposing the perfect chiseled sculpt of his body and his muscles flex as he steps towards you again. He traces your spine again and you can only stare at his perfection as he leans over and kisses the center of your back.

A quick lick to that spot between your shoulders that always makes you weak, and the heated tip of his cock is pushing into you.

Your head snaps front, back arching into the mattress as he slides in easily because you’re dripping for him.

He grunts and he stops, feeling you around him, clenching and adjusting to his girth.

“Oh, baby…” You whimper, laying yourself back down as your hips squirm with the anticipation of his movement.

He doesn’t move though. He kisses your back again, slides his pants off and steps out of them.

You try to keep quiet. To be patient because Steve needs this right now. Needs you. This he can control. The world might have been broken and he may not be able to put it back together but at least with you, here, in the safety of your bedroom, he can move and bend you and make you his in any way that he wants.

He doesn’t make you wait too long before he’s pushing into you deeper. He pulls back and rolls his hips into you again, groaning.

“Oh, Steve that feels so good.” You tell him, unable to help yourself.

He puts one knee beside you and pushes in the rest of the way.

“Shit.” He growls. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

Steve never talks dirty and it surprises you, sending warm tingles down your stomach. Heat pools at your core and you whine, squirming again.

He lays himself over you, curling his body until he’s right on you, knees offering support, your own feet still on the floor.

His lips are everywhere. Your neck your shoulders. He tilts your head to the side, and he kisses you, tongue pushing past your lips as he begins to move again.

He moves slow at first, then faster and faster until the lurid sound of his skin slapping against your ass fills the room.

His hands are magic along your slit as he moves in and out of you. He finds your nub and pulls, prods, pinches, and moves against it in slow circles. There’s a break within you suddenly and it comes all at once. Your body comes undone.

“Steve!” You cry, as you twitch and spasm as while he keeps pumping through your climax then pulls out only to turn you onto your back and crawl over you giving you a moment’s relief from stimulation.

Still breathing hard, he wraps his arm around your weakened body and tugs you upwards. He lays himself between your legs and plunges back into you, moving faster as you lift your legs and spread them for him.

Your hands find his bottom, hard flexing muscle as he relentlessly thrusts into you and you push him down against your clit hard, the swell of his cock stretching you so delicious.

“I love you.” He tells you, dropping down closer so that your breasts are pressed flat against his chest.

“Oh, Steve…” You moan, touched. “I love you.”

And you do and you’re so overjoyed that this is your life. This is what you can do for him and so much more. But this, being with him, this closeness, his love so freely given—“I love you.”

He kisses you hard, teeth clashing as you both try to convey the depth of your wants and joys.

“Mmmm.” He moans against your lips. “Shit.”

“Come for me, baby.” You whisper, reaching up to slide his hair back, fingers lacing through the soft tresses as he bucks against you faster.

“No.” He protests, a sudden flicker of fear in his eye. “I shouldn’t.”

“Then outside but come for me, Steve.” You nod at him, hands sliding up along his strong taut back, lusting for his body. You want to touch every bit of him. Kiss, love, and enjoy every inch of his Adonis structure.

“I shouldn’t.” He says again, ignoring you.

“Steve?”

“I…shouldn’t.” He moves faster, hips grinding down on your clit hard.

“Ste-? AH!” You moan loudly, body crashing once more into euphoric bliss as Steve stares right into your sex-hazed eyes, thunder overhead drowns out your pleasure cry.

“I’m…I should…shouldn’t…” He grunts but then rams himself into you three more times very quickly and you feel the heat of his climax fill you up. Hot thick spurts inside you, all the way in.

He collapses on top of you and your relaxed limbs wrap around him, keeping him close as he rolls both of you onto your sides.

With one leg straightened, the other left around his own, you push his hair back and notice the small beads of sweat on his forehead.

“You okay?” You check, reaching up to wipe at the sweat.

“I’m not done.” He states, and pulls you into his arms again, chest to chest, still inside you he grows hard again slowly.

He kisses you, lips moving languidly along your own.

“I love you.” He declares.

So much love today. You’re so lucky.

“I love you, Steve. You know I do.”

He gives you a quick small smile then reaches down and hooks your leg up high around his hips.

“I love you.” He says again and as the sky outside cracks with another deafening boom and the rain falls harder and faster, he pulls his hips back and thrusts up into you once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Should I come with you?” You hold the sheet against your naked body, watching Steve get dressed.

He’s pulled on a pair of dark jeans, a black long sleeve, his hair combed back. It’s so long. You like it this length.

He’d fallen asleep in your arms last night, cheek against your bare breasts while your hands had stroked that beautiful blonde hair. You wish it was last night again.

Every time Steve goes back to the compound, your heart beats wild with apprehension. You aren’t sure what it is or why it makes you panic. Perhaps it’s because that’s where you were when it all fell apart?

One story ended and yours and Steve’s began.

Today you feel especially sick to your stomach about it. It’s all in knots, making you queasy but this time you know why.

Nat’s getting a report today from the remaining Avengers. Rhodey’s been patrolling the more torn up countries. Following a trail of high-profile crime syndicate killings. Someone’s taking out all the bad guys but violently and definitely not sanctioned. Okoye has been handling things in Wakanda and Carol, Rocket, and Nebula are all dealing with various crises on other planets.

New Avengers.

All of them reporting to Nat who then in kind, reports to you. The new Fury. Or so Nat says, usually with a smirk. You stay out of the Compound, but you have your hand in all the pies.

You reach for your tablet and power it on. New notifications of possible problem areas becoming real issues fill your screen and you open up the World map to look at the spots and see if there’s a pattern to the trouble. You check in with some contacts around the world; London, Paris, Hong Kong, Seoul, Wakanda, Sydney…all the major check points and they begin to inundate you with strange occurrences and questions.

“No. I’m just going to go check up on Nat.” Steve says, moving to sit at the end of the bed and pull on his boots.

You slip the sheet under your arms so that you can work with both hands, your brow furrowed in concentration as you answer questions about Iron Man and where he’s been.

Busy. He’s semi-retired. Is it an emergency? Can local law enforcement handle it? What makes this case special? Sounds like it’s already over.

You sigh.

Steve has mostly kept out of all the trouble. He does what he can, but he’s focused on helping with the group and doing smaller things around the city. He’s kept his distance and you’re pretty sure it’s because he feels like he’s failed the team. Things are quieter anyway.

“I’ll need to check in at some point.” You tell him, still distracted. “I can come.”

You feel his weight drop down beside you and look up. He’s sitting on the edge of your side now, his left arm around you on your right as he leans in, that tempting half smile in place as he meets your eyes.

“Stay. Rest.” He begs, then slides those storm blues down to the top of your sheet. He slides two fingers under it then pulls it away, exposing you.

He leans down, kisses one breast, then the other before sitting up straight. He takes the tablet out of your hands and throws it to the foot of the bed before sliding that right arm underneath your knees. He pulls you once, hard and fast so that you fall onto the bed on your back, breasts bouncing from impact.

You chuckle and Steve smiles a little more widely at the sound.

He lays his torso over you and your hands trace the bulge of his biceps.

“Sleep. You’ve been waking up really early and going to sleep very late.” He complains.

“I get distracted.” You confess. “I’m busy. I’m-”

“The world is full of problems, Y/N. They’re not going anywhere.” He assures you.

“I know. I just…I wanna help.” You sigh and Steve traces the curve of your cheek.

“You are.” He kisses you, slow and pure, then pulls back.

He looks down at your breasts once more, a lick of his lips to show you that he still wants it, before he pulls the sheet back up and tucks it in around you. Places to be and things to do.

“Sleep.” He kisses the tip of your nose.

You’re never ready for it. The change. The way things are perfectly fine—well, as close to perfectly fine as they can be after the Snap—and then suddenly everything becomes unknown. Everything that you pictured for your future is thrown to the wind.

Everything you’d thought was possible disappears because now anything is possible. Anything.

You’re not alone in your worries.

Your phone rings, buzzing across your desk at the Compound.

“Hello?”

“I figured it out.”

“What?” You gasp, hushing yourself as a wave of hope and panic immobilize you.

“I know how to do it. I know how to go back…Y/N…”

“Tony, are you sure? Because Bruce has been trying to get Scott to-”

“Old man or baby?” He asks, cutting you off.

“B-Both.” How the hell does he know that?

“I know how to do it right.” He says once more.

“We can get them all back?” You ask, excitement already beginning to flow through you, setting your world to glow.

“We can.”

“Tony…Steve-” You begin, already getting to your feet to go get him.

He’s been in the hangar with Bruce this whole time, a temp lab because the equipment is so large. He’s been as distracted with this time travel idea as you were before with work. He’s laying all of his hopes on this idea. Maybe, if you can give him the good news then he won’t be so…distant.

Steve the morning he came to see Nat and Steve after he spoke to Nat and Scott are like two people. Before their talk, okay, yes. He’d been preoccupied. Depressed a little. But who isn’t depressed these days?

Things are hard. Lives were changed in drastic and bad ways. Steve had been and is still your only consolation.

However, even though he’d been preoccupied, he’s withdrawn into this project. He’s brighter. The light in his eyes is full of hope and eagerness and disappointment when it doesn’t pan out, but he’s driven again. He’s got something to strive for.

You only wish it didn’t also make him spend less time with you. Unless it’s to go to bed, you don’t hear from him all day and that’s because he’s right there, in the room. He doesn’t hold your hand or kiss you or even smile at you.

One time you’d looked up and caught him watching you. Eyes sad. He’d forced a smile then looked away.

“Don’t tell him.” Tony says, shocking your heart into confusion.

“What?” It would make him so happy!

“I-I’d like to tell him myself. He and I…we need to-”

“Yes!” You gasp, not even needing him to finish. “Yes, Tony. I’ll let you tell him.” More than Steve’s kisses or love filled gazes, you want him and Tony talking.

“But…please get here soon? I really don’t know how many more times they can make Scott old before he starts losing his mind.”

And Tony does come. He and Steve bury the hatchet—very quickly too—and then they all go to work.

But not with you.

To your surprise, Nat pulls you aside and hands you her tablet. The one she talks to you with. The one that holds all of the relevant information for the operation that you’ve been running together to keep the world turning without too many blazes.

“I hate to ask, but while we work on this, do you think you can take over?” She looks sheepish and so not Nat that you take the tablet without hesitation.

“Of course, Nat. Whatever you need. But if I can help you with anything here though, with this, can you let me know? I’d love to help.” You look for Steve behind her. You want to be beside him, helping him achieve his dreams.

And…you want to see him. Talk to him. Love him. He’s busy. You remind yourself. A scolding.

“Thanks, Y/N. And if we need anything, of course we’ll come to you.” She smiles softly, then turns and heads back towards Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Nebula all huddled around the large Quantum pad they’re building.

Nebula walking around and putting a panel down only for Bruce to shake his massive green head.

“No. I said to the right.” Bruce gripes.

“This is the right.” Nebula argues.

“My right. Not your right.” Bruce says.

“This is your right.” She points out.

“Oh.” Bruce looks down at some schematic you can’t see. “I meant left.”

Nebula stands up straight, jaw clenching and flexing.

Rhodey hurries to her side and gently moves to slide his hands under hers. “Here, I’ll get it. Go help Rocket.”

“Looks like they don’t want your help either, aye?” A deep gruff voice comes from behind you.

You turn to find Thor sitting on a bench, legs spread wide, belly slightly peeking out at the bottom of his ratty, stained, and torn up beige t-shirt.

“Guess we’re not…worthy of giving a hand.” He scowls.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, frowning as you hold the tablet against your chest.

He’s not looking so great.

Thor on the other hand looks down at your feet then shakes his head. Whatever he’s going to say weighs heavy on his shoulders and so instead of saying what he really wants to say, he changes the subject.

“Did I ever tell you about Jane Foster? My ex?” He asks, suddenly leaning forward, sunglasses thrown up onto his head as he stares at you with one piercing blue eye, the other is amber.

His beard is long and thick; a mess. His hair in chunks and clearly in need of a wash and some brushing. He’s let himself go. He smells…well, you’ve smelled worse but not much.

Sweat, stale beer, that always familiar ozone only it’s more prominent and stings your nose. You don’t wince or otherwise betray that your olfactory has been assaulted.

Thor is a broken wretch of a man, given up on himself and everyone around him. It’s sad to see him like this because you know the pinnacle of Godliness that he’d been before. The absolute confidence that had shaped his strutting, thumping, godly energy.

However, you understand this fallen man. The chasm that must rest in his chest where his pride had settled beside his heart left must ache.

This loss, the Snap, broke him. It tore him to pieces and he’s only just put them back together enough to be here.

“I met her once. She was very nice.” You nod, giving him a small smile.

He returns it, a soft curve of his lips that brightens the otherwise glum expression. “She was beautiful. And smart. So smart.”

“Yes.” You nod once again. “She was.”

“And I failed her.” He says weakly, his voice closer to lamenting than speaking. “I failed everyone.”

Your smile falls, concern replacing the wariness as you move towards him and squat down before him so that he’ll have to look down at you. You carefully place your tablet in your lap, then your hands on his knees to keep your balance.

“Thor, no one blames you for what happened with Th-”

“No.” He protests, shaking his head at the name.

“For what happened with that guy.” You correct. “Everyone played a part in this beat, Thor. Even me.”

Thor’s face shifts from grief to fond and delighted amusement. It’s a soft expression, the smile gentle and his eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s the first time you’ve seen it in a long time. Since Ultron’s days at the party after the team had found Loki’s Scepter.

Thor’s exalted revels.

He takes hold of your chin and gives your head a very minute shake. It’s a soft tough, hot calloused fingers, affectionate and gentle.

“You were passed out on your bed, little dove. Not much you could have done.” He points out.

“And why was I passed out?” You ask him, waiting as he thinks it through.

He drops his hand from your chin but only to rest it over yours on his knee.

“You know, I don’t know. Captain Rogers never-”

“Because Nat drugged me. Because Steve didn’t want me out there fighting with everyone else. Because I’m normal, and weaker than them. I didn’t have Nat’s training or Sam’s skills or Rhodey’s military background. All I have, even to this day, is a glorified certification for an elite spy squad. A certification that I made use of by sitting behind a monitor and watched as everyone else went out to do the fighting.” You give him a second to let his mind catch up because he’s got his confused face on, brow furrowed as he stares at you. “If I was different, if I was better, if I was stronger, or special then I could have been out there fighting and maybe that would have made a difference?”

“Y/N…” He protests, chastising you for your thoughts.

“See? It’s easy to find blame in yourself if you try hard enough.” You explain. “You might have been right there Thor but the only person responsible for Thanos’s actions is Thanos.”

He doesn’t even flinch when you say his name.

“I still believe in you, Thor. Always.” You promise then lean up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, grab your tablet, and leave him to hopefully, pull himself together.

Your eyes are burning. You haven’t stopped crying since they got back. They’re outside, dealing with the aftermath of their choices and you’re one friend short.

Not Nat. Is all you can think. No. It’s not true.

How can she be gone? The strongest Avenger. She is…was…she'd fought so hard only to have it to end like this?

She’s gone and you didn’t even get to say goodbye. You crumble against Steve’s bed, clinging to Nat’s tablet because it’s the last thing she gave you before they left on their heist.

The shining excitement in her pale rosy cheeked face as she’d bounced on her feet waiting to go back in time feels so wrong now. It feels like sacrilege.

How dare she be that eager to go out and die? Why? Why Nat?!

“Y/N?” Tony’s voice is winded, weak, and grieving. He’s like you. “You in here?”

You’re crying so he moves towards the sounds. “I-I-She’s not gone.”

Your denial makes him somber.

“She did it for us.” Tony tries to reason with you. “For them.”

Right now you would rather have Nat than the rest if the Universe. You know it’s selfish but it’s Nat!

He sits on the edge of the bed and places his hand on your ankle. He doesn’t try to comfort you because nothing can be said to make this better. Nothing can bring her back.

He lets you cry yourself out. When you finally sit yourself up, you struggle to find your balance, weak as you are.

“Where’s Steve?” He hasn’t come to see you yet. He came back and you sat on the bed, sniffling and crying silently while he showered and changed. He’d kissed your forehead and then left you in here.

“I have to regroup with the team.” He’d said, and then left.

“They’re going to the lab. We’ve got the stones and the gauntlet is almost finished.” Tony leans back, looking at your utter state of depression with gentle eyes. “You wanna come?”

You consider his offer, wondering if you want to be there to celebrate in the stones that took your friend…so many of them actually.

You wanna see Steve but he’s actively keeping his distance from you. You’re not sure why but you can feel his withdrawal.

Shaking your head, you let your hair fall forward, shielding your face from view.

“We’ll try to fix it. I think we can try to fix it. We’ll bring them all back. All of them, Y/N. Nat too.” He says, more hopeful than certain.

His warm calloused hand suddenly slides in underneath your hair, cupping your cheek gently.

“Hey, wanna do me a favor then?”

You nod, anything to distract from this agony and the looming question of Steve and why he doesn’t have you tucked in under his arm as he holds your hand like he always does.

You know you’re being stupid. The fate of the universe is in the balance. Of course your relationship has to be put on the back burner.

“Morgan’s been asking about you.” He says, finally drawing your eyes up.

That girl is the cutest and you haven’t seen her in so long.

“I’ll go.” You tell him, knowing what he’s asking. Steve probably asked him to. He wants you away from the danger of all this.

You find him in the lab and he hugs you tight when you tell him you’re going. He holds you much longer than he normally would in front of the team as you almost fall to pieces over Nat again, but he releases you and kisses you quick before sending you on your way.

“Stay safe.” You beg of him.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re sitting with Morgan on the log house’s rustic porch when the garage door is blown open. You see a streak of blue and silver fly up into the sky, a blue-white spark of repulsor energy trailing behind it.

“What’s going on?” You ask, picking up Morgan to hold her close.

She looks worried, but only like a child would be. She doesn’t understand. All she asks when Happy comes out is, “Where’s mommy going?”

And you know things must have gone wrong.

The funeral is beautiful, at least in the way funerals can be.

When Pepper pushes the tribute wreath for Tony out onto the lake by the house, you cry. You stand inside, watching from a distance because you can’t bring yourself to be in front of all those people.

You’re alone. And you’re broken because Tony was here. He was just here. And now he’s gone and nothing feels the same.

Steve keeps his distance too. You don’t take offense because this battle, this mission, this whole fucking plan had taken so much from everyone. From Morgan the most.

Bruce is scarred from having used the stones to undo the Snap—and he’d said he tried to bring her back, but it didn’t work, and Nat is really gone—Steve had been broken and bruised and emotionally wrought.

He'd hugged you and cried into your shoulder as he clung but then he let you go and disappeared.

It was all so jumbled, this mess of celebration and grief. You lost him in the crowd and when things had finally died down, the two of you sat together silently, holding hands.

Taking solace that even though the Compound was gone, the two of you are still here, and you have each other.

Silver lining. You watch Steve hug his friends. After the funeral he and Bucky talk for a long time. They walk out to the lake and they sit, and they just talk.

You keep your distance because Steve has been needing this to happen. He’s needed Bucky back. And Sam. And Wanda.

You can already see the weight on his shoulders lessen and you feel your own sense of relief to know that he’s finally going to feel better.

When most of the people are gone and it’s only the team, you move out to Bruce as he sets up what looks like a smaller Quantum pad.

Suspicious. Worried.

“What’s going on?” You ask him, uncertain about this time travelling crap after what happened with Nat.

“Oh, hey. We’re getting everything set to go back again.” He explains, messing with the knobs and buttons on the panel before him.

Like death, fear begins to creep in, turning your blood to ice.

“Why?” You ask, afraid of who you’ll lose this time. Will Clint go? Or Rhodey? Bruce himself?

“Well, I made a promise. We have to get the stones back to where they belong the very moment that they were taken so that we don’t accidentally start any new timelines…although, I’m pretty sure we already did that, what with killing past Thanos at the compound. But…oh well. What could really go wrong, right?” His explanation makes your brain hurt but you get what he’s saying.

“Who-?” As he meets your eyes, you realize you don’t even need to ask. “Steve is going?”

“Yeah.” Bruce reaches over to gently massage his right shoulder, held tight with a sling then freezes as he sees the shift in your eyes. “I'm, oh jeez, I’m sorry. I-He hasn’t told you, has he?”

Rage. Pure rage engulfs your heart, at the center like the black pit of a rotten apple is the fear fueling your fire. You can’t lose Steve. You just can’t.

“I thought you knew!” Bruce yells after you, sounding remorseful.

Stomping mad, you search for Steve.

How dare he make this type of decision without speaking to you first? You’re his girlfriend. Hell, you’ve been living with him for five years! You’re way more than that by now.

You don’t have to go far and find him on the bench where he’d been with Bucky earlier, sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he stares out at the water.

“Steve?” You storm, moving towards him intent on letting him know that he cannot go back in time to drop off the stones because more than a million things can go wrong and you cannot risk it.

No. He’ll just have to send someone else.

Steve jumps, which in and of itself should surprise you but you’re so angry you don’t notice the guilt in his eyes.

“How can you make the choice to go back in time again without even asking me?” You demand. “After what happened with Nat? You are not going. Do you hear me?”

Steve swallows hard, his hands clasped tightly at his side. He’s holding something, you realize. He doesn’t even seem annoyed by you demanding he stay.

“Y/N…”

“What’s that?” You ask him, pointing at his hand.

Steve looks at it and opens it up, holding his old compass for you to see.

“Oh. Well,” You renew, “This time travelling thing? I can’t watch you do it again, Steve not with-”

“I think…” He begins, hesitating as he stares down at the compass in his hands, cutting you off.

He’s twirling it around over and over, drawing your eyes to it and effectively silencing you.

“We’ve been friends for a long time.” Steve says, and with the way he does, your heart drops down into the pit of your stomach. “We had to wait until the world ended before we had our chance. I know that, part of that is my fault. If I’d been less scared to take the chance…you had to kiss me, remember?”

“Steve…” You try, softly, suddenly terrified.

“Please, don’t stop me or I’ll never get this out, Y/N.” He pleads, and his tone makes you nervous, chest aching painfully at the guilt you can clearly see now.

You lick your lips but nod and remain silent.

“I love you.”

Why doesn’t that give you comfort?

He nods, agreeing with his own statement. “So much but…”

He opens the compass and stares at it. Then he turns it and offers it to you.

You take the two steps closer to him in order to grab the compass, and your hand grows numb at the old black and white photo that lines the inside of the lid.

You know this face because you’d studied it during your training. You know it because you’d looked her up when Steve had finally told you about who she was and what she’d meant to him.  And just how important she really was. You’d known back them that you didn’t compare to her and yet, somehow, even knowing this, knowing what she represented to Steve, you didn’t see this coming.

You’d been so confident. Five years is no small amount of time to spend with someone.

Now you can see it. As clear as day, blinding and painful.

The moment time travel had become even a plausible possibility, Steve had begun to push you away.

He’d slipped up a few times. The night before they went on the heist especially.

He’d curled up behind you, coaxed you awake, kissed you fiercely and made love to you tenderly.  He’d even cried but you’d been sure that it was because he was nervous about the mission. What if they messed it up?

You realize now that he was telling you goodbye. Tracing the shape of your arms and legs, the curve of your breasts and bottom. He’d stared into your eyes and kissed you slow. Deep.

One last fuck before he does what he’s known he would do the moment he knew he could go back.

“You’re leaving me.” You whisper, disbelief ripping through you.

“Y/N…” He begins again, taking a step closer but you take a step back, tearing your eyes away from the beautiful Peggy Carter.

“You’re going and you’re not coming back.” You realize, betrayed.

“I…I have to see. I have to take the chance because if I can be with-”

This isn’t happening. This is a lie.

You turn away from him, and he goes silent. “Five years…Steve. We have been together for five years. You kissed me this morning—every morning for the last five years. You told me you love me.”

Him leaving must be a lie because if it isn’t then those five years you spent with him. Those kisses. His declaration that he loves you. Those become the lie.

“How…Are you not happy with me? I-I know that I…no, I…how can you…wait, I…don’t you love me?” You sputter, jumping from hurt to angry to confused as you turn to look at him again.

“Of course, I’m happy with you.” He rushes forward, hands on your cheeks and the way he strokes them is genuine and loving. You don’t want him to go. He can’t. “I love you…I do…”

“But not enough?” You gasp, realizing this as the truth. “You love her more. You’ll always love her more.”

This angers you. You shove him, hard, pushing against his chest because you’ve dreamt only of Steve. You’ve wanted only Steve. From the moment he taught you to punch, through all of the doubts and struggle and the distance that kept you apart when he was on the run and the times that he couldn’t be with you. You’ve loved him, body and soul. You were there after the Snap and you gave him what he needed and you…you’re nothing?

No. Not nothing.

You’re not enough.

Just a stop along the way.

You sob.

“I’m the one that’s been here through all of this shit with you Steve. We’ve lived together for five years. You slept beside me, for five years and you’re telling me that this entire time I was…what? Second best?”

“No.” Steve moves towards you again but you’re spitting angry and hurt. The hurt is the worst.

“But that’s what you’re telling me.” You argue. “I’m here. I’m right here, Steve.”

“I know.” He says, quiet, pained.

“I love you and I want to give you my life.”

“I know. I love-”

“I will marry you-” You utter desperately, begging almost but you’re getting angrier and angrier.

“Y/N…” He says, a little shocked.

“-and give you babies-”

He blinks, stunned. Thinking fast and hard, brow furrowed with thought and pain.

“-you are all I want. You know that…you know that I love you.”

“I do.” He assures you, seeming to snap out of it.

Your anger spikes, reaching new levels and coating your heart in venom. “Well if you know that you’re all I want the why do you want someone else?!”

You shout and Bruce gives you two a glance but then turns to leave to give you space?

Clint and Wanda turn to look at the two of you, staring for a moment with furrowed brows. Responding to the atmosphere but not your words.

The house door opens, swinging with a faint creak, and Bucky comes outside, standing by the railing as he watches. Deep knowing concern etched across his face.

He knows.

They’re all too far to really hear what you two are arguing about but they know you’re arguing.

“Don’t you want me?” You ask him, back to what sounds like a slight begging quality in your tone for him to choose you only because you choose only him. It’s Steve. Or no one.

“Yes.” Steve nods. “I do.”

He sweeps you into his arms, pulling you against his chest as you turn your head up to look at him, your hand still clutching his compass.

“Then stay with me. I love you. Please don’t do this to us.” You plead. “Please?”

Your voice cracks.

“Please?” You sob.

He leans down to kiss you but the guilt in his eyes doesn’t recede. It makes you pull back and he stops.

“You’re still going?” You check, even though you already know the answer.

“I have to.” He sighs, “It’s…it’s Peggy.”

You shove him away from you again and this time he tries to hold onto you, but you don’t let him.

“And I’m nothing.” You spit, finally managing to get out from under his hold. “I’m nothing to you.”

“Y/N, no. Baby…”

“Don’t call me that, Steve. How can you call me that and do this? Don’t…stop lying.”

You toss the compass at him and it hits his chest. He catches it while you turn and head back inside.

“I’m not lying. Baby…Y/N!” He calls after you, though he doesn’t make to follow and that kills you again.

You pass Bucky who opens his mouth to say something. Defend Steve? Empathize with you? You don’t care. None of it matters.

“Don’t.” You choke, tears streaming down your face.

You don’t stop until you’re in your bedroom, ignoring the multiple faces looking up at you with concern.

“Y/N?” Pepper asks, worried with Morgan in her arms.

“What’s happened?” Thor asks, sitting up straighter in the armchair he’s chose beside the couch.

Once in your room, you move to the closet and go in there too. You find a corner and slowly sink down to the floor, wishing there was a room in this house even smaller than this one where you might have the chance to fall apart in peace.

You want to be crushed. Enclosed in nothing so that this isn’t real, and Steve isn’t leaving you for someone else.

You don’t want to exist. You want to never have felt like this for Steve so that he can’t hurt you.

As it is, this will have to do, so you let yourself fall apart.

An hour later, Steve abandons you.

I’m so sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged and I said I wouldn’t be doing tags because it’s only two parts. If you would like to be tagged in the last part, let me know and I will add you! xoxo

Buy me a coffee!

Forever Tag List @jessieray98 @crist1216 @rainbowkisses31 @xxloki81xx @the-wayward-robot @quokkatrash @tiffanynguyen03 @basementcafe @kind-sober-fullydressed @moli1497 @badassbaker @awkwardfangirl2014 @shield-agent78 @supernaturaldean67 @sea040561 @jewelofwinter @this-side-of-midnight5 @sebbystanlover-vk @just4muggles @death-unbecomes-you @lilulo-12 @whosmarisaaarw @hiddles-rose @pandazlazykid @alagalaska @theonelittleone @xlittlestarling @moonlessnight14 @natura1phenomenon @pineapplebooboo @spaghettirogers @dsakita @sincerelytlh @booklover2929 @lovefreylove @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @vulpecula-minor @babytrollgirl @wildefire @fairislesheets @mother-of-fire-snakes @xrosegoldwolfx @queenoftheunderdark @mrsdeanwinchester19 @thefridgeismybestie @mcuwillbethedeathofme @peaceinourtime82 @baebeepeach @teller258316 @juustpeachy420 @libbymouse @fallinginlovewithqueue

Steve Taglist @patzammit @darkdragonpheonix @lostinthoughts23

[rainbowplates]

Tofu scramble

Scrambled tofu is one of those vegan brunch dishes which is so rarely done right. I've had it as part of a vegan fry up in cafés and it's been this sad, dry, plain thing, seasoned with way too much turmeric to make it egg yellow and nothing else. Which is a shame, because I LOVE tofu scramble. When I make it I season it with fresh herbs and whole spices, and load it up with veggies. Like, it doesn't have to look like eggs! It's way more important that it tastes good!

You can put basically any veg in this, the basic thing is to chop them fine enough that they cook through in the frying pan. I really love courgettes in scrambled tofu, but I used our last courgettes in yesterday's Keralan jungle curry (mm, I'm looking forward to eating some of those leftovers for dinner later). This would be great with any leftover veggies like potato, squash, Brussels sprouts, bubble and squeak style. But my mainstays for tofu scramble are mushrooms, courgette, some kind of leafy green, and tomatoes and peppers if you can eat nightshades.

Here's how I made it this morning:

Ingredients

1 block silken tofu

1 white onion, chopped small

2 cloves garlic, minced

4 chestnut mushrooms, chopped small

1 carrot, chopped small

1 tomato, chopped small

Handful of rainbow chard, chopped small

Fresh thyme and rosemary from the garden

Black peppercorns and coriander seed, freshly ground

Vegan boullion powder

Method

Fry the onion, garlic, mushrooms and carrot in olive oil. Once they're cooked, stir in the tofu and mix it well together. Add the herbs, spices, and boullion powder to season.

I fried up the tomatoes separately and added them to my plate at the end, since my partner can't eat them. Yum, tomatoes.

Serve on toast, pancakes, fried corn cakes or your breakfast carb of choice. I scattered nutritional yeast on mine, but you could add grated vegan cheese instead.

[iwillgotoheaven]

im so sad why did i get silken tofu its so much hardwr to worl with than regular tofu

[wellpersonsblog]

A Vegan Weight-Gainer Smoothie for Athletes (that’s Healthy Enough for My Kids)

Of all the healthy habits I’ve started over the years, a daily smoothie is the most important.

It’s not that a smoothie is any healthier than its unblended ingredients. Or that it’s more important than a salad (another simple daily healthy habit that’s).

Instead, for me, a smoothie is all about setting the tone for what I’ll eat the rest of the day.

Start your day with a smoothie, and you guarantee that even if all hell breaks loose and you eat nothing else healthy for the rest of the day, at least you’ll have gotten in a couple handfuls of berries, a banana, a handful of baby spinach, a tablespoon of flaxseeds, some raw walnuts, and a Brazil nut. It also happens to be my trigger habit for taking the couple of supplements I take each day (Complement Plus, and turmeric, if I’m not putting the fresh root in my smoothie). I’ve learned that if I don’t take my supplements when I have my smoothie, I don’t take my supplements. But perhaps the best part of the smoothie habit is that it’s so easy to modify to fit whatever you’re into. While I try to pack mine full of disease-fighting, longevity boosting foods, my kids have different needs right now. Both are really into sports, and my son in particular wants to put on some extra weight. But, like me, when he gets wrapped up in something, he tends to forget to eat. So my wife developed a chocolate smoothie recipe for him, one that’s full of higher-calorie ingredients, tastes great, and is enhanced with a serving of Complement Protein, to up the protein and calorie count even more — without the excessive amounts of heavy metals and sweeteners in other protein powders.

So that even if he doesn’t do a great job of eating the rest of the day, we know at least he’s getting a ton of calories through his smoothie.

And it’s been a huge hit. He drinks a full recipe each day (half around lunchtime, half after soccer practice), and as a result, has put on five pounds in just a month.

Here’s the recipe (inspired by one from The Juice Truck, by Zach Berman and Ryan Slater):

1 brazil nut

1 tablespoon flax seeds

1/4 cup silken tofu, organic non-GMO

3 pitted medjool dates, soaked

1 tablespoon cacao powder

1 tablespoon cacao nibs

2 tablespoons Complement Protein

2 tablespoons peanut butter

1 large, very ripe frozen banana

3/4 cup ice

1 1/2 cups unsweetened almond milk

Combine all ingredients in a high-powered blender and blend until smooth. Makes 28 ounces.

… for a grand total of 789 calories, 33 grams of protein, 106 grams of carbohydrate (18 from fiber), and 34 grams of fat (whole-food fat, not oils).

Considering the rest of his diet is probably only 1500-2000 calories, this is a big increase, and it’s not hard to see why it has worked.

How could a daily smoothie help you?

Matt

PS. Don’t forget, the price of up Complement Protein goes up 10% after tomorrow. Sad face. But that means there’s still time for you to get it at the lower price, or best of all, subscribe and lock that price in month after month. Get all the details here.

The post A Vegan Weight-Gainer Smoothie for Athletes (that’s Healthy Enough for My Kids) appeared first on No Meat Athlete.

First found here: A Vegan Weight-Gainer Smoothie for Athletes (that’s Healthy Enough for My Kids)

[mariacallous]

My bagged salad mixes was starting to get sad and limp and dangerous so I decided to make a stoup and use up some carrots and celery and onions and shallots as well. Plus the silken tofu I had bought but not used yet - it pretty much just fell apart when I stirred which is on me but it’s not bad. Minced garlic and various seasonings and flavorings plus spaetzle. An almost totally vegetarian dish except I did add beef stock/broth. I could have gone vegan and used water and just olive oil.

[blockzone06-blog]

september, i feel ya!

Recipe: matsutake soup

Ah, September! If ever there was a month I love most, it is September. When I was a kid, September was special to me because it was my birthday month and it meant a new school year, which I really looked forward to. I outgrew the birthday thing at the age of 16 and thankfully the school year didn’t matter so much once I was done with coursework in graduate school. But September remains my favorite month because it represents a sigh of relief. Summer, with her nonstop crush of things to do and the incessant heat that makes me borderline homicidal and the long days that limit a good night’s rest to 6 hours at best – it is finally over, at least here in the mountains. Normally I would be planning for the fall shoot, but there is a puppy to train and some projects I’m working on. I am okay with not trying to cram every possible thing into my schedule and running myself ragged in the process. This might be called “getting older”, but I like to think of it as deliberate sanity.

these two napping in the sun after their morning hike

the colors are starting a tad earlier than usual

We were in Crested Butte over the holiday weekend and everything was going just fine until Yuki got a little territorial and aggressive with Neva one evening. It made me sad because Neva, while completely crazy, is the sweetest dog who doesn’t consider herself the boss of anyone. We suspect Yuki, at 7 months, is testing the boundaries of her “authority” in her adolescence. After keeping a close eye on the two pups for a couple of days, they seem to be back to their normal goofy selves. The following morning, Yuki was cuddling with Neva on their favorite perch by the window. We continue observing their interactions to make sure this doesn’t evolve into a real problem. The dynamics of two dogs is certainly different from the dynamic of one dog! as if nothing had happened

pretty views on the drive home

sitting for a treat – yuki feels this is the best way to get both treats

A year ago I was finding more matsutake than I had energy to deal with. Matsutake, that prized mushroom of Japan, translates into pine mushroom and fetches top dollar in circles that recognize its value. The brown matsutake is found in Asia. The white matsutake is found in parts of North America – including Colorado. This year, I have yet to see signs of the subterranean gems in the usual places. But even if I did find some, I’m not sure I would be gathering too many as there are bagfuls of them in my freezer from the crazy flush of 2017 (what a season, folks, I mean REALLY). With cooler evenings, I have begun to contemplate making soups and stews of all kinds. But the days remain warm, so I’m partial to soups that are not too heavy. Last September, I tried a lovely and simple matsutake clear soup that allows the pine mushroom’s unique flavor to shine among a handful of ingredients. bonito flakes, dried kelp, green onions, water, salt, matsutake, tofu, soy sauce, sake, mirin

The kelp and bonito flakes are used to make dashi. If you don’t want to make dashi from scratch, you can find Hondashi brand granules (instant dashi – just add hot water) at most Asian grocery stores or well-stocked Asian sections in supermarkets. If you are making the dashi from scratch, wipe the kelp with a wet paper towel without removing the white residue – it contributes to the umami of the broth. Start soaking the dried kelp in water 3 hours before you’re ready to make the soup. wipe the dried kelp with a wet paper towel

soak the kelp in water for 3 hours

You can prep the other ingredients a few minutes before you are ready to make the dashi. Because matsutake are so expensive in Japan, most recipes don’t call for very much of the mushroom. Here, I’m using a relatively small one whose veil was intact, and slicing it thin. If you don’t have matsutake, you can use other kinds of mushrooms. I’m also using green onions in my soup instead of the original Japanese parsley (mitsuba). thinly sliced matsutake

sliced and diced: matsutake, green onions, tofu

When the kelp is done soaking, place the pot over medium-low heat. Bring the water to a boil and add the bonito flakes. Allow this to simmer for 30 seconds before removing the pan from the heat. Set a strainer lined with paper towels over a bowl or a large measuring cup and strain all of the solids out of the broth. I discarded the solids, but if anyone has a use for them, please share! Place the liquid in a saucepan and bring it to a boil. Stir the soy sauce, sake, mirin, and salt into the dashi. Add the mushroom, tofu, and green onions to cook for just a couple of minutes before serving. add the bonito to the kelp water

strain

pour in the seasonings

cook the mushrooms, tofu, and green onions in the soup

If you’re lucky enough to have yuzu zest on hand, you can finish each bowl with a little. I didn’t happen to have any, but the soup was warming and delicious without it. The flavors are earthy and bright, loaded with umami, yet clean and delicate. I find it refreshing and restorative – an autumn soup to prepare us for the winter months ahead. Frozen matsutake are just as good as fresh in this recipe. matsutake clear soup

of the sea and the forest

Matsutake Clear Soup [print recipe] from Just One Cookbook

2 cups dashi, make your own (see below) or use instant dashi granules per the instructions seasoning (see below) 1 matsutake mushroom (about 1 oz.), sliced thin 5 oz. silken tofu, diced into small cubes (1/2-inch cubes) 2 green onions, sliced thin yuzu zest (optional, but I didn’t have any)

dashi 2 cups water 2 oz. kombu (dried kelp), wiped with damp cloth (don’t soak or wipe off the white powder) 4 oz. katsu obushi (dried bonito flakes)

seasoning 1 tbsp sake 2 tsp mirin 2 tsp soy sauce 1/2 tsp kosher salt

Make the dashi: Soak the kombu for 3 hours in water in a medium saucepan. Heat the water and kombu over medium-low heat until the water boils. Add the bonito and simmer for 30 seconds, then turn off the heat. Strain the liquid through a paper towel-lined strainer.

Make the soup: Pour the liquid back into the saucepan and return to a boil. Stir in the sake, mirin, soy sauce, and salt. Add the mushrooms, tofu, and green onions. Cook for 2-3 minutes. Serve with yuzu zest (optional). Serves 2.

more goodness from the use real butter archives

matsutake tempura

grilled matsutake

porcini elk sausage tortellini in beef porcini brodo

chanterelle toast

September 4th, 2018: 8:43 pm filed under asian, fish, foraging, gluten-free, mushrooms, recipes, savory, seafood, soup, tofu

Source: http://userealbutter.com/2018/09/04/matsutake-soup-recipe/

[targetcolor20-blog]

Easy Vegan Soft Pretzels

High in protein, low in fat, these vegan soft pretzels are hearty and delicious. You can be enjoying them in less than an hour!

Happy 2019! I’m really off to a late start this year thanks to a lot of non-edible stuff happening in my life. Some of it involves saying goodbye to one canine family member and hello to a new one.

As you long-time readers know, I consider this a “blog” in its original meaning of “web log:” An online account of my life, especially, but not exclusively, the part of it that takes place in my kitchen. Many of you have seen my daughter grow from a 9-year old child to a senior in college and have been here with me as I went through everything from cursed vacations to cancer. 

But I understand that there are those that want to skip all the chit-chat, and for those I offer this link to skip right to the info about the recipe:

Skip the Dogs, Take Me to the Cooking!

For those of you who are still with me, I have to break the sad news that we lost Bandit in November. There’s no easy way to describe what happened, but it boils down to he was staying with a sitter, got out of the yard, and was attacked and killed by at least one other dog.

As you can imagine, we were grief-stricken and traumatized. I couldn’t fully enjoy the holidays because of the pain of losing him and the thought of what he must have suffered. This wasn’t the kind of news I wanted to burden my readers with right in the middle of the holidays, so I didn’t mention his death in my newsletter. I still can’t write about him without breaking down.

Foxley didn’t understand what had happened to Bandit, and we could tell that he missed his big brother. So toward the middle of December we started looking for a new dog to adopt, and we found Salem through the same Pomeranian rescue that had given us Bandit and Foxley. Because of the timing, we had to wait until after Christmas to meet Salem, but when we did, it was love at first sight:

Salem was a stray on the streets of Texarkana (sounds like the beginning of a country and western song!) We don’t know anything about his background, but the vet that examined his teeth estimated him to be around five years old. He was definitely somebody’s baby at one time because he’s fully housebroken, knows what a pet door is for, and will sit and offer his paw on command. He loves long walks and treats (too much) and has a few pounds to lose to be in better health. Foxley, after some initial jealousy, LOVES him and can’t stop licking him. He’s been a wonderful addition to our household.

So there you have the Voisin Pet Update. If you want more dog and cat-related news, be sure to follow Foxley on Facebook and Instagram. (He posts a little more often than I do!)

I’ll now get to the business at hand, making these easy pretzels.

First a confession that is going to irritate some people: For the past year, I have been following Weight Watchers. I don’t talk about it because I don’t want to endorse it or any other diet, but I’m not going to apologize for it, either. I’m doing what works for me to regain my health when nothing else did. I’m down 55 pounds and 30 cholesterol points and back to a regular blood pressure. It’s been easy to do as a vegan and works well with whole-foods plant-based eating. 

Anyway, if you wondered why I’ve been putting Weight Watchers points on recipes and started a category for Zero Point Recipes, that’s why.

Because if this, I’ve been hanging out in Weight Watchers groups and learning some of the standard “low-points” recipes. One of them is a 2-ingredient dough that can be used to make bagels, pizza crust, and pretzels. The non-vegan version uses self-rising flour and fat-free yogurt. On WW, fat-free yogurt is a “free” food, meaning you don’t have to count it toward the points you’re allowed each day. There is no corresponding vegan yogurt that’s fat-free, so vegans often substitute silken tofu, which is also zero points.

I decided to try substituting silken tofu in this pretzel recipe, and it worked great.

Now, before someone jumps in to tell me, yes, real pretzels are yeast-raised; these baking powder pretzels are a quick bread, and because of that their flavor may be more like a biscuit than a traditional bread. But they were delicious enough for me to consider them a real treat. And vegan Weight Watchers will be interested in knowing that each vegan soft pretzel is 3 points.

How to Make These Easy Vegan Soft Pretzels:

Making these pretzels is pretty simple, but to guide you through the process, I took photos of each step.

First, blend the tofu with a little lemon juice (exact amounts are in the recipe below) until it’s completely smooth. The lemon juice adds some of the tanginess that yogurt would have and silken tofu doesn’t. I used a food processor because I thought getting the tofu mixture out would be easier than from the container of my Vitamix. Next time I will use my Vitamix to get it silky smooth without the starting, stopping, scraping down, and repeating that I needed to do in my food processor.

Pour the blended tofu into a bowl and add the flour (self-rising or a mix as noted in the recipe below.) Mix it well, turn it out onto a floured board, and kneed a few times until it sticks together. Cut it into 5 equal pieces.

Roll each piece of dough between your hands to form 5 ropes of dough between 12 and 14-inches long.

Form each rope of dough into a pretzel shape. Make an “O” with a twist at the top. Then twist again and bring the ends over the “O.” 

Place the pretzels on a parchment-covered baking sheet. Brush each one with a little aquafaba (liquid from cooked or canned chickpeas) and sprinkle with coarse salt or Everything Bagel Sesame Seasoning. Bake in a preheated oven as directed below. At the end of the baking, turn your oven to broil to slightly brown the tops and watch constantly . Don’t leave or they may burn!

Serve with mustard or your favorite pretzel condiment!

I used unbleached white flour with baking powder and salt added, but you can make these even more easily by using self-rising flour. I’ve included instructions for both.  White whole wheat flour may also work, but I haven’t tested them using it.

Easy Vegan Soft Pretzels

In less than an hour, you can be enjoying these light, oil-free pretzels. They're the perfect snack for Weight Watchers or any low-fat vegan diet.

Ingredients

12.3 ounces extra-firm silken tofu (or 1 1/4 cups plain vegan yogurt)

1 teaspoon lemon juice (omit if using yogurt)

1 1/4 cups unbleached flour (or self-rising flour and omit baking powder and salt)

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder (omit if using self-rising flour)

1/2 teaspoon salt (optional if using self-rising flour)

2 tablespoons aquafaba (liquid from canned chickpeas)

coarse salt

Everything Bagel Seasoning (optional)

Instructions

Place the tofu and lemon juice in a blender or food processor. Blend until completely smooth, stopping to scrape down the sides of the container to get all the bits blended. (Skip this step if using plant-based yogurt.)

Place the flour in a mixing bowl. If you're using plain flour, add the baking powder and salt and mix thoroughly. Pour in the tofu mixture and mix until a soft dough forms.

Turn the dough out onto a floured board and knead gently about 10 times or until the dough holds together. Divide it into 5 equal pieces. 

Preheat oven to 350F.

Lightly flour your hands. Roll each piece of dough between the palms of your hands until a rope begins to form. Put it down on on the floured board and roll it back and forth between your hands until it's between 12 and 14 inches long (longer is better.)

Form the rope of dough into a pretzel shape (see photo above) and place it on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Repeat with all the pieces of dough. Brush the tops lightly with aquafaba and sprinkle with coarse salt or Everything Bagel seasoning.

Bake at 350F for 22-25 minutes. Then, leaving the pretzels in the oven, turn the oven to broil and WATCH THEM until the tops begin to lightly brown, 2-3 minutes. Be careful not to burn them. Remove from oven and serve warm. 

Refrigerate any leftovers. May be reheated in a toaster oven.

Notes

Using silken tofu, each pretzel is 3 points on Weight Watchers Freestyle program. Using yogurt will increase points, calories, and fat.

Nutrition Facts

Easy Vegan Soft Pretzels

Amount Per Serving (1 pretzel)

Calories 152 Calories from Fat 9

% Daily Value*

Total Fat 1g 2%

Saturated Fat 0g 0%

Sodium 423mg 18%

Total Carbohydrates 26g 9%

Dietary Fiber 1g 4%

Protein 8g 16%

* Percent Daily Values are based on a 2000 calorie diet.

I baked the pretzels on the Bake setting in my Breville Smart Oven Air. The air fryer setting might also have worked. If anyone tries air frying them, please let me know what settings worked for you.

I’m eager to try this dough as a pizza crust and perhaps as a bagel or bun. I’ll update the post to let you know how that goes.

Please Pin and share:

I participate in Amazon’s affiliate program; if you buy something through one of my links, I may receive a small commission. I’m not affiliated with Weight Watchers in any way, other than being a paying customer.

Source: https://blog.fatfreevegan.com/2019/01/easy-vegan-soft-pretzels.html

[mostly-plants]

Week 3 of eating vegan

Day 15 started with baking a couple of loaves of my new favourite bread: Caraway Rye Sourdough. It is soooo savoury and delicious, and develops such a beautiful rich chestnut colour when baked. I was taking one to a friend, and one was for the boyfriend and I to eat over the week.

Once the bread was out of the oven I travelled through the city to go to a workshop on plant based nutrition by Bloom Nutritionist, who my friend had recommended. The workshop was very informative and covered a range of key practical info, including recommendations to supplement a whole food vegan diet with B12, Algal Omega 3s, and a multivitamin to cover things like Iodine and Selenium. I got a lot out of the workshop, but I had made the mistake of not having lunch because I’d had a reasonably late breakfast, and wasn’t hungry - until I got to the workshop venue. I managed to score an apple at the event, but I got the brain-fades half-way through the talk, and then by the time I got home I was so hungry I ate a stack of food including Popcorn Tofu with chilli sauce, leftover vegan pizza, and a handful of these very un-nutritious cookies. Oops!

Day 16: I had some bircher muesli with blueberries for breakfast, and ordered some more fruit and veggies / pantry staples from CERES Fair Food. I had a late snack and then made wholemeal pasta with lentils and veggies for dinner, topped (of course) with a generous amount of Cashy-Cashy Parm-Parm. YUM!

Day 17 was a very busy day getting prepared for some upcoming work deadlines and then going to class in the evening, but because the fridge was stocked with leftover pasta that made lunch easy. The boyfriend and I were both finishing our days late, so we ended up meeting up in the evening and getting dinner from a local Mexican food place. Luckily they had good vegan options, but I did feel a bit sad not being able to just share our meals like we usually would. I think this was the first day that I started to feel challenged by eating vegan. For me it’s not the food part, because I love fruit, veggies, nuts and seeds (and yes, I love my legumes now too). I can imagine being fairly happy eating these things as the main components of my diet, but I realised I would really miss the positive feelings that comes with sharing the same food together with loved ones. In starting this challenge I had thought that the social aspect of eating vegan would be the most difficult part for me, and that’s probably the case. 

Day 18: Overall I’ve been feeling really good after eating vegan for two weeks - my energy levels are the same or better than they have been, I feel fine physically and mentally, my digestion is great, and weirdly I don’t seem to be sweating as much? (Not that this was particularly a problem before, it’s just my observation). I have been trying to read and listen to more information about the case for (or against) plant-based eating in order to weigh up the available evidence and decide whether to continue. 

Although I’m leaning towards more plant-based eating (mostly because of the environmental and welfare impacts of animal products), I do think I would struggle with not being able to share things with my partner, or participate in family dinners etc. in the same way. At the moment, I think I might end up settling on more of a flexitarian approach (i.e. mostly plant-based, but flexible on occasion). I guess I’ll see how I go with the rest of this challenge...

Day 19 I woke up a bit tired because I’d had coffee about 5pm the day before and was a bit too wired for sleep until about 3am. My bf had the opposite problem and woke up super early. Luckily, he somehow managed to be functional anyway, and because he is lovely I got coffee delivered right to my bedside <3 I made a quick breakfast of avocado on toast, and chopped up some raw veggies that needed using, to take with baba ganoush dip for lunch. I also packed some homemade granola, a bit of dark chocolate, an apple and a banana (I’m getting better at this “always have plenty of snacks available” thing.  Work was pretty hectic, so I didn’t get to have lunch until about 3:30pm when I realised I was getting pretty hangry. I felt much better after some food, and a little afternoon chocolate pick-me-up. I felt like something a bit different for dinner, so ended up making miso-glazed eggplant with garlic bok choy, and crumb-coated smoked tofu and sweet potato. I know that sounds super fancy, but actually it was mostly so I could use up the wilting bok choy at the back of the fridge (and bump up my calcium intake for the day!). 

The miso glaze for the eggplant is sooooooooo ridiculously good, and actually very quick and easy to make (my favourite combination in cooking!) We got the recipe from a vegetarian / vegan cooking class at Gourmet Kitchen Cooking School - I’d highly recommend their classes as something fun and special to do. Anyway, so, you want some miso glaze? (Spoiler alert: yeah, ya do). Just get a small saucepan and mix in: 2 Tablespoons of Miso Paste (I used white miso) 2 Tablespoons of sugar (or a neutral tasting liquid sweetener like agave syrup) 1 Tablespoon of Mirin 1 Tablespoon of Sake (I didn’t have this, so used Shaoxing Chinese cooking wine instead - it worked totally fine) Pop the saucepan on a low heat, stir/whisk the ingredients together, and in mere moments you will have your golden brown and delicious miso glaze! The eggplant gets sliced in half lengthways and roasted cut side down at 220c for about 30 mins. Then you turn the eggplant cut side up, and coat generously with miso glaze. Like... Seriously. Just pour that goodness all over everything, it is DELICIOUS! Pop the glazed eggplant halves back into the oven/under the grill for a few mins (watching that the glaze doesn’t burn), and then when you just can’t wait any longer, take them out of the oven, sprinkle them with some green spring onion and sesame seed, and try not to burn your mouth as you inhale that deliciousness!  The bok choy I (finally) learned how to cook properly from watching the Viet Vegan, and the crumbed tofu and sweet potato was just to use up the rest of the coating mixture from making Popcorn Tofu earlier this week. It was great! If you want to try this, I’d definitely recommend marinating your tofu beforehand, or dunking it in a really flavourful sauce afterwards, because although the crumb coating is tasty, the tofu itself doesn’t have much flavour. The sweet potato was a definite winner! No oil needed, just toss bite-sized pieces of raw sweet potato in your crumb/seasoning coating, and bake them in the oven at 220c for about 45 minutes. NOM. So, at the end of Day 19 I’m feeling good about kicking some nutrition goals, and eating some hella tasty food. Yay!

Day 20: I felt like something savoury for breakfast and since I had the luxury of working from home on Friday, I decided on a Mexican inspired breakfast, with a spicy mix of cooked black beans, onion, carrots, corn, topped with fresh tomato, chives and coriander, and (of course) guacamole. Tortillas from La Tortilleria because they are by far the best I’ve had. A very satisfying start to the day!

Lunch was nice and easy - leftover bok choy and sweet potato with steamed silken tofu and a quick miso dressing (1/2 tablespoon miso paste, 1/2 tablespoon mirin, 1/2 tablespoon maple syrup and 1/2-1 tablespoon of water to get the desired consistency. Then, because it was so tasty - more Mexican for dinner, along with some red wine and dark chocolate for dessert. :)

Day 21: BREAKING NEWS - Scrambled silken tofu with miso dressing and chives on toast is DELICIOUS. I know the recipes say to use firm tofu for scrambling, but personally I think silken tofu matches the texture of scrambled eggs more closely. The miso dressing works great in this, because it’s got the salty/savoury flavour going on, and the slight sweetness balances the slight bitterness that some tofu can have. Sold!

After breakfast we went to the markets to pick up a few ingredients for the bakesale we were doing on Sunday. We braved the supermarket on a Saturday, bought many kilos of flour and sugar, and then paid a visit to Trang for Banh Mi - they have stacks of vegan options so I’m keen to try more, but so far I can’t get past the vegan BBQ pork because it is so tasty!  I was pretty hungry by the time we ate so forgot to take a photo, but trust me - it is packed with lightly pickled veggies, fried spring onion and delicious magical vegan meat (I’m guessing they’re probably seitan-based, but I don’t know for sure).  Pretty much the rest of Saturday was spent baking a ton of things for Sunday’s bakesale, and “quality testing” the several batches of cookies I made. I also ate wayyyyyy too much cinnamon coffee icing while trying to get the right consistency to top the chocolate cupcakes I made. Whoopsies! So... I guess I’m proving that you can definitely be vegan and eat a bunch of junk food, but then you probably won’t feel so great afterwards. Eat your veggies, kids!