#Fresh Crab Meat

[askwhatsforlunch]

Crab Pasta

Creamy and delightfully spicy, this Crab Pasta makes a hearty and tasty dinner on chillier Spring nights. Happy Thursday!

Ingredients (serves 1):

1 1/2 cup short pasta (like penne rigate or rotini)

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1/2 tablespoon olive oil

1 shallot

2 fluffy sprigs Garden Parsley 

half a dozen large leaves Garden Basil 

1/4 teaspoon Red Chili Flakes 

about 100 grams/3.5 ounces fresh crab meat, thoroughly drained

a pinch of fleur de sel or sea salt flakes and freshly cracked black pepper

1/3 cup crème fraîche or sour cream

1 lemon

In a pot of salted boiling water, cook penne according to package's directions, about 9 minutes until al dente.

Meanwhile, melt butter with olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat.

Peel and finely chop shallot.

Once the butter is just foaming, add chopped shallot. Fry, a couple of minutes.

Finely chop Garden Parsley, stalks and all, and Garden Basil. Add three quarters of the chopped herbs to the skillet, along with Red Chili Flakes. Cook, 1 minute more.

Stir in crab meat, and cook, another 3 minutes. Season with fleur de sel and black pepper.

Stir in crème fraîche, mixing well.

Once the penne are cooked, drain quickly, saving about 1/4 cup of the cooking water, and stir both into the creamy crab sauce, until the pasta is beautifully coated.

Thoroughly squeeze in the juice of the whole lemon. Give a good stir.

Serve Crab Pasta hot, sprinkled with reserved chopped Parsley and Basil, and a glass of chilled dry white whine, like a Martinborough Sauvignon Blanc.

#Recipe #Food #Crab Pasta #Crab Pasta recipe #Pasta #Pasta and Noodle #Penne #Crab #Crab Meat #Fresh Crab Meat #Seafood #Fish and Seafood #Butter #Olive Oil #Shallot #Parsley #Garden Parsley #Fresh Parsley #Basil #Garden Basil #Fresh Basil #Red Chili Flakes #Fleur de Sel #Black Pepper #Black Peppercorns #Crème Fraîche #Cream Fraiche #Sour Cream #Lemon Juice #Fresh Lemon Juice

[fieriframes]

[Let it reduce a little bit, and then we're going to add our mixed veggies, fresh potatoes, and our crab meat.]

#s34e03 triple d nation - slurpin' soup #guy fieri #guyfieri #diners drive-ins and dives #mixed veggies #fresh potatoes #crab meat

[bunnyb34r]

Greensand in the tank

Trying the veggie/greens food blend, have that, some dried fruit, and the powdered food blend for protein 👍👍

Let's hope they like it!

#marquilla #im so so scared to open the bug one sggdgdgdgdgd i didnt know it was like WHOLE/cut up bits and not powdered 😭😭 girl helppp #what if theres like whole dried dead flies in there 😭 i barely tolerate the mealworms #at least i dont feed them POOP #theres this annoying ass on reddit who is always shaming new crab owners for not KNOWING THINGS bc theyre NEW and she mentioned #that she keeps POOP actual fucking POOP for them to eat 😭 like bat poop and idk what other kinds but bitch what?? #just bc theyre scavengers doesnt mean you HAVE to feed them scraps and shit!! like give them a chicken bone from your #rotisserie chicken and let them pick the meat/marrow! leave the fruit in a little longer (but before the bugs get it or mold) so it's not #as 'fresh' give them fish bones idk like theres better options you little freak #every time shes in the tags shaming someone i always say to myself 'at least we're not feeding them poop bitch ' #fucking insane ass people i stg #youd have to waterboard that out of me

[ffcmeat]

#chicken #meat #fresh meat #crab meat

[bellaroles]

I finally got to make egg-drop soup again and I'm so happy!

#if only i could have some fresh crab meat to add into it

[recapitulation]

meal ideas!

low energy ("do not ask me to do any prep work at all, so help me god")

mozzerella cheese wrapped in pepperoni ("pizza tacos"!)

hummus and pretzels or naan (putting the naan in the microwave for like 10 seconds...heavenly)

canned chili (with shredded cheese and sour cream if you have it! boom done!)

instant miso soup (warm and lovely! put tofu in it for protein!)

cheese and cured meat, olives, canned fish, crackers, dried fruit, or whatever easy "charcuterie" type items you like

alternate bites of apple and spoonfulls of peanut butter (mixing honey or chocolate chips to the peanut butter is my favorite)

a "deconstructed sandwich": bites of lunch meat, pickles, cheese, cherry tomato, etc (I love roast beef and white cheddar for this)

yogurt and granola or fruit

put frozen potstickers + frozen edamame in the steamer/rice cooker, chill elsewhere with a timer set, then boom

tortilla chips + canned refried beans + cherry tomatoes + cilantro + jarred salsa con queso (or warm shredded cheese on top of the chips in the microwave for 30 seconds)

bagel + cream cheese + lox

microwave scrambled eggs (add things like green onion, soy sauce, or anything else you like!)

cottage cheese and fruit (mixed together or just on the side)

bowl of shredded rotisserie chicken + buffalo sauce + a bit of mayo + green onion (use a kitchen scissors to cut them right in!)

medium energy ("I'll boil water but don't ask me to chop shit")

boiled eggs and fresh veggies (put a little salt on top of the eggs!)

buttered noodles (my go-to nausea meal, it has never failed me. ideas of things to add: frozen peas, imitation crab, roasted garlic)

baked potato with toppings (I like cheese, bacon, broccoli, green onion, and sour cream)

quesadilla (add some canned beans, cilantro, or avocado!)

pot roast (requires a lot of time but not a lot of actual work. I love it with peas!)

cuban sandwich (bread, swiss, pickle, mustard, ham... my favorite thing to panini-ify by far)

pan-fried tofu with scallion sauce (this sauce goes well with everything and tofu is no exception)

pancakes or waffles! (I love mine with jam)

ham, pickle, and cream cheese roll-ups

fried eggs (with toast and lots of butter...so comforting)

fruit smoothie (bananas, frozen strawberries, yogurt...or whatever!)

I hate salad but could write essays on this copycat olive garden salad (throw it in a bowl! chopping required if you use onion)

spaghetti (controversial maybe but angel hair > spaghetti noodles)

pasta salad (olives broccoli fresh mozerella... those little mini pepperonis... yeah)

stir-fried thai garlic shrimp (I like using the mini frozen salad shrimps, it's easy! use jarred minced garlic to avoid chopping!)

tuna mayo onigiri

slow cooker ribs

buffalo chicken wrap (or any number of other wrap options! shred pre-cooked rotisserie chicken to make it easier)

if your local grocery store sells pre-cooked gyro strips, that can turn into an easy wrap with store-bought pita & tzatziki with tomatoes and onions!

couscous and chickpeas

tortellini + pasta sauce + spinach

high energy ("I don't mind chopping some things up!")

stuffed shells with spinach

chicken and roasted garlic (oh my god.....one of my all time favorites)

beef tacos (I like mine with cilantro and onion, and when I'm feeling especially high energy I love a tomatillo salsa)

chicken alfredo

tom kha gai (a thai soup and my absolute favorite! you just need access to galangal)

lasagna! (freezes well and then boom! low energy meal for later)

pad thai! (not as hard as you'd think, as long as you have access to tamarind paste!)

potstickers! (this is a lovely group activity if you want to cook with housemates!)

rice and beans

bang bang shrimp (ogughfhgfuh I love it. you can also do bang bang tofu!)

minestrone soup (so many nice veggies!)

fried rice (put whatever you have on hand in there! broccoli, peas, carrot, and beef is my favorite combo)

broccoli cheddar soup

spring rolls and peanut sauce

skewers (such as beef, onion, zucchini, bell pepper... you don't need a grill, oven works!)

roasted turkey with garlic parmesean asparagus

pork chop with mashed potatoes

panang curry

chicken gnocchi soup (use store bought gnocchi or make your own if you have a high energy day!)

bibimbap (super customizable depending on what veggies you like best)

butter chicken

plus! things that have helped me meal plan:

whenever you think of a meal you'd like to make, take 3 seconds to google search it, take a screenshot of the image results, and put it in a "food ideas" folder. instant visual menu!

the concept of "meal prepping" makes me recoil but I've learned that it can simply mean preparing shredded chicken, boiled eggs, or some other simple protein that you can customize throughout the week. shredded chicken can turn into wraps, salads, pasta dishes, etc... you don't have to meal prep yourself into the same meal all week!

when I have difficulty working up an appetite, I'll scroll through my favorite restaurant menus! there might be some foods I can't make at home, but many times they're very simple to recreate because the ingredients are literally listed!

#brought to you by: i see people complaining about coming up with meals for the week #and im like..this is my favorite thing to do........let me be your meal brainstormer #additionally brought to you by: eating something is better than nothing so some of these may not be complete textbook 'meals' #but sometimes you feel like shit and just need something! so! #also this energy scale is tailored to me personally so if some categorizations dont make sense to you thats bc its about me <3 #food #i might update this with dessert ideas too later. or just add to it in general

[whenyouliveinwarszawa]

Salad - Shrimp Salad - Classic Crab and Shrimp Salad

#A classic seafood combination of crab meat and cooked shrimp is combined with chopped bell pepper #celery #and fresh dill in a simple mayonnaise dressing that lets seafood flavors shine. one #mayonnaise dressing #crab #crabmeat #iga

[foodffs]

Impress your dinner guests with this easy and delicious recipe for Crab Suffed Mushrooms. These savory appetizers are made with cream cheese, fresh crab meat, Parmesan cheese, and herbs for a flavorful bite. 

https://www.smalltownwoman.com/quick-creamy-crab-stuffed-mushrooms/

#submission

[psychictimestone]

Infrequent Sonic ('06) facts - Soleanna and its cuisine.

In Soleanna New City you can come across an NPC who will discuss the cuisine of Soleanna. What he reccomends is based on the Hedgehog's campaign and the time in the Campaign. Each foodstuff relates to their hedgehog and their tastes.

Sonic: The Frite sandwhich

Sonic's is the frite sandwhich; it is described as a local junk food favouite, it is made of fish, vegetables and lemon juice inside a bun and is then deep fried. Similar to Sonic's beloved chili dogs they are a fast and easy meal that are easy to enjoy on the run.

Shadow: The Soleannan Crab

Similar to Sonic, Shadow is offered advice on seafood, however. Shadow's is the more refined Soleannan crab. Described as being world-famous due to its juicy meat and intense flavour - turning down a Soleannan crab is said to be akin to turning down a date with Elise herself.

Silver: Soleanna's fruits

Unlike Sonic and Shadow, Silver is instead offered advice on the fruits of Soleanna - perhaps alluding to his love of apples. Of all the fruits, the Soleannan apples are world-famous, decribed as being crispy yet bursting with sweet, flavourful fruit. They are even used in all kinds of Soleannan cooking as a 'hidden flavouring'.

End of the game: Desert

Fitting for the end game, if you visit him again with any hedgehog once you have finished their campaign, the man will tell you about tasty Soleannan deserts including their sorbets made with fresh fruits.

#Sonic the hedgehog #Sonic 06 #infrequent Sonic 06 facts #Silver the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #I love the NPCs in this game #they give so much hidden lore that is really fun to extract #long post #kinda #Sonic the Hedgehog 2006 #infrequent sonic facts #tw food #<- just in case

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 2: Choose Love Or Sympathy]

Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra's wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook's Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother's life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting...

Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, extreme babygirl energy, violence, serious injury, Larys Strong, alcoholism/addiction, references to sexual content (18+), Crab Family lore.

Series title is a lyric from: "7 Minutes in Heaven" by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter title is a lyric from: "XO" by Fall Out Boy.

Word count: 5.5k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! 🥰💜

A moment of clarity, something he’s having more of lately: eyes glassy but open, voice husky, words slow. His vast bedchamber in the Red Keep always smells like honey and rose oil and the brackish golden air that blows in off the ocean. Sounds float weightlessly through the open windows like feathers on waves, music and shouts and creaking wagon wheels, gull cries and sails cracking in the wind. Late-morning daylight is an aisle across the stone floor, a river, a channel. Aegon’s bed has been moved away from the windows; when his wounds are uncovered, direct sunlight can ravage him in minutes, fresh blisters, thickening scars.

Aegon winces as you sit behind him and knead warm rose oil into his back and shoulders. His flesh is a grisly mosaic: pink and crimson and white, knots of burgeoning scar tissue, spots that are still raw and weeping. “It itches like hell, does that mean it’s infected?”

“That means it’s healing. Do you want more?” You mean the goblet of pearlescent milk of the poppy on his bedside table. It’s always there, and refilled frequently.

Aegon shakes his head, groggy, slumped, white-blond hair loose and disheveled. “I should probably be sentient on occasion. You haven’t been helping me piss into chamber pots or anything, have you?”

You smile. “No. You’ve got servants for that.” Although they report their findings to you; Maester Arthur of Claw Isle once taught you that organ failure is a common cause of death for burn victims, even if they survive the risks of shock and festering. All appears well enough on the outside, and then they start pissing blood or their skin goes yellow as their innards lose their secretive divine cadence, that vital rhythm, and then the poor soul is gone within days.

“Thank the gods,” Aegon says. “A speck of dignity remains. It’s tragic enough that I now closely resemble an overcooked meat pie.”

You chuckle as you massage rose oil into his wounds, keeping the scars moist and supple so they do not split open when he moves, so his joints are not locked in place. He will need them when he is out of bed again. He will need them if he truly is the king. “I don’t think you look that bad.”

“Because you’re used to sifting through guts and corpses all day. I’m an improvement. I’m only half dead.” And just weeks ago, he was pleading to be all the way dead. He glances back at you, brow knitted into thoughtful furrows; you can see it between the messy locks of hair that shag over his face. “What made you want to study something like this? It’s gruesome. It’s miserable, thankless work.”

“I was never good at anything,” you tell him. “My sisters were, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t dance, couldn’t sing, couldn’t embroider patterns unless they were humiliatingly simple, and even then I loathed it. My father grew so desperate he encouraged me to try archery with my brothers. I accidentally put an arrow in the foot of a squire and that was the end of my bowwoman career.”

Aegon laughs, then groans at the pain it causes him. He turns around so he can look at you, clumsily repositioning himself on the feather mattress, propping himself up on his palms. He squints down at his left hand where his ring should be: gold wings, jade eyes. You will have to remind Aemond to give it back to him. “I was never good at anything either.”

You can’t imagine that to be true, and yet it’s what you’ve always been told, that he was gifted at drinking and whoring and nothing else. You cannot reconcile those stories with the man in front of you. You keep trying, keep failing. You slather your palms in rose oil again the then begin massaging it into his chest. Aegon watches you with muzzy, drugged interest, eyes like cold ocean currents. “Then, five years ago, my brother…” You hesitate. A real name, an imagined one? You decide there is no harm in this small truth. Aegon will not remember the name of a younger son of a Crownlands house; he barely recalls the men of his own Kingsguard, who now spend their days trotting around the castle after Aemond. “My brother Everett was burned very badly, just like you were, although his wounds were mostly to his legs. And we all thought he would die. People advised us to show mercy by giving him enough milk of the poppy to kill him. They said it would be a sin to let him suffer so terribly. Yet our maester believed he could save him. My father and eldest brother had other responsibilities to attend to, and my mother and sisters could not bear the sight of Everett’s injuries. But I watched the way the maester worked on him, and I just…I thought it was the most captivating, beautiful thing I’d ever seen. The way a body can be taken apart or put back together like stones in a wall. Place one here, remove one there, and then like magic you’ve changed the course of someone’s life. Our maester taught me how to clean burns and change bandages, and when Everett was well again, he taught me about broken bones, fevers, childbirth, wolf bites, dry drowning. I read every book on the subject of healing in my father’s library. He kept having to order me more from the Citadel. I think I would have liked to be a maester myself, but…”

Aegon grins. “You have to go marry your mystery nobleman.”

“And women can’t be maesters.”

“They made me king of the Seven Kingdoms but you can’t be a maester? Fucking ridiculous.” He studies you as your fingers—tenderly, carefully—press rose oil into the red scar that creeps up over his right cheek. “Why won’t you tell me who he is?”

He means your betrothed. Aegon keeps asking about him in his moments of lucidity. You quip: “I don’t want you to have him murdered.”

“That would solve your problem.”

“I preserve life, I don’t take it.”

“I’ve noticed,” Aegon says with a soft, tired smile. Very slowly, he reaches up with one hand to pat at his silvery hair. “Can you give me my braid back? It seems to have been washed out again.”

“Of course.”

“Why did you start doing that?”

What is the truth? Something you can’t tell Aegon. No matter how often I touch him, I want more. “It’s a war braid. You’re a warrior. You’ve earned it.”

“So I am good at something after all,” he murmurs. You rebandage Aegon’s wounds and help him lie back down again. You give him a sip of milk of the poppy, which by now is badly needed; Aegon’s face is sweated and pale and agonized. Then you clean the rose oil from your hands and begin weaving a small braid into his hair. He gazes vacantly towards the open window, bright warm light he cannot walk into. “I assume Aemond is…handling things.”

“Yes, he’s…” How will Aegon take this? Is it a relief, or a slight? There was a great ceremony. You did not attend; you were here tending to the Greens’ broken king. It’s where you spend most of your time. “He’s been made Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm.”

Aegon nods, his expression unreadable. “How’s Sunfyre?”

“Still at Rook’s Rest and gaining strength. He was climbing the cliffs as of a few days ago. But I’ll ask Aemond when I see him today.”

Now Aegon smiles again. “Sunfyre is fierce. He is extraordinary.”

“You both are,” you say as you fashion his silver braid; and Aegon stares as if he couldn’t have heard you correctly.

Her steps are so light that at first you aren’t aware she’s entered the room. You see her out of the corner of your eye and immediately stand, moving away from the bed, from Aegon. You feel strange touching him this way—unnecessarily, self-indulgently, greedily—in her presence. She is his wife, after all.

“Your Grace,” you greet Helaena, bowing. She does not look at you. She looks vaguely in Aegon’s direction instead. She is wearing a turquoise blue dress and her long hair pulled back from her face. The servants have dressed her, or Alicent; she cannot do it herself anymore. In her hands she holds a large glass jar of sticks and leaves.

“Hello, Helaena,” Aegon says, more like a sigh than a welcome.

She scurries towards him and sets the jar down on his bedside table with a clunk, right next to the goblet of milk of the poppy and a number of other drinks, things you ply Aegon with to keep him hydrated. Then Helaena speaks, her eyes on the contents of the jar. There is something else in there, you see now: a fat wriggling green creature, a caterpillar inching along the length of an upright stick. "For you."

“It’s very nice,” Aegon tells her, in a tone like a parent losing patience with their child.

“It takes nourishment and then rests,” Helaena says. “It is wrapped in a cocoon and stays there for a long while. But when it emerges, it is not just well again. It is greater than it was before. And it can fly.”

“Oh, I understand now.” Aegon makes no attempt to touch her—not even her hand, not even for a moment—but his words are kinder. “I am the worm. Thank you, Helaena. This comforts me.”

She is satisfied. She turns to leave.

“Your Grace,” you begin, and hold out your hands to her. She does not take them. She does not meet your eyes; she stares instead into the golden luminescence of the open window behind you. You can hear crashing waves and the screeches of swooping gulls. “I wanted to express…I cannot even begin to tell you…I am so, so sorry for your suffering—”

She spins away from you and sweeps out of the bedchamber. You are left looking at the empty place where she stood, heartsick and sorry. What did I do wrong? What should I have said?

Aegon offers you an apologetic smirk, but his eyes are sad. “It’s not personal. She doesn’t really like touching anybody.” This is an irony, and one that must read on your face. A king and queen—by definition, by necessity—do an inordinate amount of touching. He invades, she endures, they knit heirs together out of threads of blood and sweat. “What we have between us, it’s not…romantic. It never was.”

This is not something he should be telling you. It is not a jest but a spilling of deep, sacred truths. “I didn’t ask.”

“No. But you were wondering.”

You were. You return to the bed and sit down beside Aegon, finishing his braid. You choose your words precisely before you speak. “I don’t believe I have a right to know certain things, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about what you’re thinking.”

“Then let me unburden myself so there is no confusion,” Aegon insists, drowsy but fighting sleep. “There was no joy in it for me or Helaena. I tried to make it as quick and painless as I could, but still, her disdain for the task was obvious. It happened just often enough to conceive the children. And we haven’t even tried in months, not since…” He doesn’t need to say it. Everyone knows, Greens and Blacks alike. A son for a son. The murder of Jaehaerys, six years old and utterly powerless, in exchange for Aemond slaying Luke.

Do you think such a thing was just? No, of course not, how could anyone? Very few things that happen in this world are just. They come with passionate defenses but no mercy, no vision for a less violent future. The wheel goes around and around, and everyone takes their turn being crushed. “Aegon, I’m so sorry,” you tell him softly.

He shakes his head. He will not discuss it. Aegon’s remaining children, Jaehaera and Maelor, do not ask about him; on the rare occasion that Alicent brings them to his bedchamber, they do not seem to know who he is. In fairness, Aegon does not seem to know them either; he regards them with a dull sort of bewilderment, like one might peer down at a page written in a foreign language. In the hallways of the Red Keep, the children clutch at Alicent and Otto, and sometimes Aemond will take a few minutes to play with them, stacking wooden blocks or arranging cloth dolls in a miniature castle. But if ‘mother’ and ‘father’ are words the children know, you’ve never heard them spoken aloud. “Can I have some wine, please?”

“Did you finish your goat milk?”

“Resentfully.”

“Then yes. I’ll get it for you.” You pour Aegon a cup of red wine and then tilt it against his lips. He slurps the cup dry before his eyes dip closed. You set the empty cup on the bedside table, feel his forehead for fever—longer than you need to—and then rise to leave him. You are almost to the door when you hear him say: “Thank you for changing my mind.”

You turn back to Aegon, puzzled. “About what?”

“About wanting to be dead.” He grins and waves, a weak miniscule motion of his left hand. “Come back soon, angel.”

“I will,” you promise.

And only then does he surrender to blessedly numb unconsciousness, the only place in the world that doesn’t hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~

You find Aemond in his own rooms. He is sitting in front of the large circular mirror on his vanity. His hair is long and straight and painstakingly neat, his tunic made of black leather. He is wearing the crown of Aegon the Conqueror. Rubies fracture the sunlight and scatter it against the walls; Valyrian steel glints.

Aemond marvels, knowing that you’re here: “It looks better on me than it ever did on him.”

“I need more rose oil.”

In the mirror’s reflection, his lone blue eye darts to you. “You always ask so politely.”

“I didn’t want to waste your valuable time. I can be more loquacious, if you prefer.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He stands, taking off the crown and placing it—gingerly, with both hands—on his vanity. “I’ll see that you have everything you require.”

“I am eternally appreciative.”

Then he does something that he thinks is amusing, a little joke you share. He grabs for your arm and you yank it away just before his fingers can close around your wrist. This makes him smile; it’s one of the only things that does. “Now follow me,” he orders, striding past you and through the doorway.

You hurry after Aemond, dashing through corridors and archways. You know where he is going; this has happened before. As you ascend a staircase, Alicent is leading Jaehaera and Maelor down to the gardens. She has one tiny hand gripped in each of hers; the hem of her emerald green dress drags on the stone steps. She keeps losing weight. You stop to scoop Maelor up and hug him—he giggles, squeezing at your cheeks as you smack kisses onto his face—and then turn your attention to Jaehaera. She has just learned the rules of curtsying and loves to practice. You bow to her, and then she does the same to you, and while her head is bent low you ruffle her silvery hair until it is in hopeless disarray and Jaehaera is laughing hysterically. Then you kneel down so she can sabotage your hair however she sees fit. She pulls strands out of your sensible low bun until you give up and shake it all loose. Alicent—large dark eyes, demurely veiled auburn hair, somber and suffering—gives you a grave, grateful smile. Aemond has waited at the apex of the stairs for you. When you rejoin him he continues onward to the council chamber.

Inside men are taking their seats and already beginning to quarrel: Criston Cole, Otto Hightower, Grand Maester Orwyle, Tyland Lannister, Jasper Wylde, Larys Strong, the knights of the Kingsguard. Sir Rickard Thorne pays no attention to you. Aemond once mentioned off-handedly: ‘Sir Rickard, I believe our healer is a distant relation of yours.’ The knight had glanced at you and produced some noncommittal reply, oh, indeed, sure, is that so. You had met before, you realized when you saw his face, years ago, at some event that brought together the houses of the Crownlands, a wedding or a funeral or a feast. He has a hazy recollection of you, but he cannot pin it down; he spent the evening with boisterous young men like your eldest brother Clement, while you had spent it with other noblewomen. Sir Rickard’s mother or sisters could probably identify you as a Celtigar. To Rickard himself, you can masquerade as some unimportant cousin he is ashamed to have forgotten. You assume your usual place in the council chamber: standing in a corner, trying not to be noticed, only there in case specific questions involving Aegon’s medical treatment arise.

“Is he dying?” Otto asks Aemond. “He must be. He has no interest in whores.”

Aemond raises his eyebrow at you. “Actually, I’ve been informed he is improving.”

Maester Orwyle beams at you. Upon your arrival in King’s Landing, he had confirmed to Aemond and Criston what you already knew: that while the Citadel’s guidance several decades ago was indeed pork lard or cow dung to treat burns, now there is a growing consensus that vinegar, honey, and oil for scar tissue are the best available remedies. You nod back. You are natural allies; the Greens’ king is under your joint care. You both have much to lose if he dies.

Now Otto Hightower addresses you. He is a stern, weathered, shrewd man. He reminds you of your father, though far more humorless. “When will he be able to fight again?”

“Fight?” you echo, stunned. “In battle? Months at least, my lord. Perhaps a year.”

“A year!” Otto bellows, then turns his wrath on Criston and Aemond. “I told you, I told you! I urged him to exercise caution, over and over again I warned him of the danger, and while I was penning letters to every possible ally you were pouring poison into his ears, convincing him that I wasn’t doing enough. Now look at him! Look at this goddamn fucking mess!”

“How fares the dragon?” Tyland Lannister says.

“I received a raven from Rook’s Rest today,” Aemond replies. “Sunfyre is eating well and ambulatory.”

“Useless,” Otto hisses. “Can’t fly. Can’t be moved. A waste of the livestock he’s being fed.”

“We may yet find a purpose for him,” Aemond says.

“Two dragons!” Otto explodes. “Can you count them?! We have two dragons capable of combat, and one of them is ridden by a fifteen-year-old. The Blacks still have Syrax, Caraxes, Vermax, Tyraxes, and Moondancer. And gods help us if they find someone to ride any of the other unclaimed beasts on Dragonstone. Seasmoke, Vermithor, Silverwing, Grey Ghost, the Cannibal…”

“I hope they try to tame the Cannibal,” Criston mutters. “If we’re lucky, he’ll eat them all.”

“My lord,” Larys Strong says to Otto, clutching his cane; he has a habit of lacing his fingers overtop the handle and resting his chin on them. Larys is a watchful, quiet man who speaks rarely yet with great consequence. He is the Master of Whisperers, he is the Lord of Harrenhal, and aside from that he is an enigma to you. “I hate to be the bearer of unfortunate tidings, however I must speak plainly. I have just obtained reports that the Blacks are pursuing precisely the course of action that you fear. Jacaerys Velaryon is offering land and knighthood to any man who can mount a dragon and join their cause. The realm is littered with Targaryen bastards, I’m certain it is only a matter of time until they find at least a few candidates suited to the task.”

Otto slams his fist down on the table. You startle at the noise; Aemond glances over at you. “No king. No Sunfyre. Dreamfyre in the Dragonpit, who Helaena cannot fly into battle. A fucking disaster.”

“We have Vhagar,” Aemond says confidently.

“She is worth two full-grown dragons,” Otto pitches back. “Not four or five.”

“Daemon is the real threat. If I can eliminate him, the war is over.”

“Daeron should be prepared for combat,” Jasper Wylde says. “He is travelling with Lord Ormund Hightower’s army in the Reach, but he can easily be called back to King’s Landing. He could assist Prince Aemond in his pursuit of Daemon and Caraxes.”

“I don’t need his help,” Aemond replies darkly.

“Then perhaps he could safeguard the city once you’ve gone.”

“We cannot sacrifice military strategy on the altar of personal vendettas,” Criston says. “Dragons are best used on the battlefield against soldiers and castles, not on meandering quests to find one lone enemy, that’s a needle in a haystack, it’s a misallocation of precious resources.”

Aemond counters: “But if I can kill Daemon, nothing else matters—”

“It does matter, Aemond!” Criston roars. “I matter, the armies matter, winning the confidence of the houses you hope to rule matters!”

“How is Corlys Velaryon handling all of this?” Otto asks Larys. “The defeat at Rook’s Rest, the death of his wife?”

Larys answers: “He blames Rhaenyra for the losses. He has taken it badly. It is my understanding that he intended to withdraw his support from the Blacks, and was brought back only by Jacaerys giving him the title of Hand of the Queen. I am under the impression that Corlys may be willing to reconsider his allegiance if the circumstances were right—”

There is a knock at the council chamber door, not a knock but a pounding, not a pounding but a frantic drumming like the marching of soldiers’ boots. Sir Criston Cole unlocks and opens the door. Alicent stands there with her face flushed and shiny with tears. Instantly, Criston is at her side asking what is wrong, one hand resting protectively her shoulder, the other on the hilt of the sword he wears everywhere he goes.

“Come quickly,” Alicent begs you, only you. “Please. It’s Aegon.”

You race with her to Aegon’s bedchamber, hearing the screams long before you reach him. This doesn’t make sense; he shouldn’t be in pain this severe, not yet, not for hours. You are aware that there are footsteps thundering behind you, Aemond and Criston rushing to see if the king really is dying this time. In his bed, Aegon thrashes and moans. He needs to stop moving so violently; he will split his scar tissue like burst seams. Already you can see blooms of crimson appearing on his bandages where the wounds beneath have reopened: his neck, his waist, his ribcage. He is out of his mind. He is destroying himself.

He is shouting for Sunfyre, for Aemond, for Criston. He is back at Rook’s Rest being roasted alive in his own armor. Not dying, then; just having a nightmare. You kneel at his bedside and smooth his hair back, his braid threading through your fingers, and whisper to him that it’s alright, that he’s safe, that he needs to wake up now. Alicent is weeping, both hands covering her mouth. Aemond and Criston are watching you, mesmerized, transfixed.

Aegon’s oceanic eyes fly open, wide and panicked. “Where am I?”

And you smile down at him, your palm cradling his unburned left cheek. “The end of the world.”

He blinks. He remembers. His lips stretch into a grin. “There you are,” he tells you, voice gravelly and low. “I dreamed everyone was gone and you were too.”

“I’m here.”

“You aren’t in a hurry to abandon me for your burly betrothed?”

Cregan Stark must think I’m dead. “No, Aegon.”

“You can’t leave without telling me.”

Everett, Clement, my father, my mother, Piper, Petra, Penelope, they must all think I was burned to ash on the battlefield or murdered and tossed into the sea. “I know. I won’t.”

“You can’t leave,” he says again, a half-awake whimper as he sinks back into unconsciousness. You give him more milk of the poppy, enough to make his sleep deep and black and dreamless.

You reclean and rebandage Aegon’s wounds. It takes hours. Aemond fetches Maester Orwyle to assist you. Criston comforts Alicent, wanting to do and say far more than he can. When it is done, only Alicent remains in the bedchamber with you. She visits Aegon frequently, but she does not know how to speak to him; she always stands there clasping her own hands together, praying and stalling, desperate to show him love and yet incapable of it.

“Thank you for what you’ve done for him,” Alicent says, tears glistening in her umber eyes. “Not just the hours, not just the medicine. For everything that you’ve done.” And she embraces you, and when she does you hold her like she wishes her own daughter could.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the night you see it repeating like a chorus of a song in the shadows that crawl across the ceiling: one year ago, stray snowflakes in your hair, stars in a black sky and air like metal.

The Celtigar fortune is older than the Targaryens’ conquering of Westeros, older than the Doom of Valyria. Where did the money come from? Friends of the Celtigars would say distinctively cunning maritime trade; their enemies would say piracy. Perhaps the two are not always so different. Is there any mechanism of accumulating great wealth that does not involve stealing in one form or another, of wringing out some other soul like a wet cloth until every drop of them disappears down your throat? Your ancestors did not tame dragons, but they had a different sort of gift: for every coin, they could find a way to make two or six or ten. Repeat that process for centuries and there are vaults filled to the ceiling with gold coins like pieces of the midday sun.

When Daenys the Dreamer had a vision of the Doom over a decade before it left Valyria a smoldering, fragmented wasteland haunted by demons and plague, only three Valyrian houses heeded the warning. Her own family, the Targaryens, relocated to Dragonstone. The Velaryons, having already long occupied Driftmark, resolved to stay there. And the Celtigars—merchants to some, pirates to others—crossed the Narrow Sea to settled on Claw Isle.

Crispian Celtigar served as Master of Coin to Aegon the Conqueror. Alton Celtigar was his Hand of the King. Edwell Celtigar was chosen to be Hand of the King to Maegor I, and later Master of Coin to Jaehaerys I during his minority. The Celtigars have never been far from the Iron Throne…though perhaps none were ever as close as you are now.

One year ago, your father embarked upon a trade mission to White Harbor. Never a man to squander an opportunity for new business, he added stops in Oldcastle, Cerwyn, and Winterfell, and brought along his four maiden daughters to stoke the desires of Northerner lords. Piper fancied a son of Lord Manderly, Petra caught the attention of a Cerwyn boy. But no offer was advantageous enough for Bartimos Celtigar’s liking; no deal could be struck.

In Winterfell, Lord Cregan Stark was already married. His wife, a childhood friend before she was a bedmate, trudged around the castle heavily pregnant and dragging layer upon layer of furs to guard her against the cold, often biting even in summer. Lord Cregan took little notice of your giggling, gossiping sisters, and even less of you…until his sparring partner broke his arm in the castle courtyard. As the other women fled with nauseated faces back to their needlework, you asked Winterfell’s maester if you could watch how he set the fracture and managed the man’s pain. The maester was delighted—Northerners, as a rule, lack intellectual curiosity—and even allowed you to help bandage the wound once the split bone had been popped back into place. And it was only then, as you knelt there with your forehead creased with determination and blood coating your hands to the knuckles, that Lord Cregan Stark began to see you.

You have a fear of marriage, not a general aversion but a specific and powerful dread. When you were fourteen, you asked your mother if she enjoyed lying with her husband, and you had known as soon as she spoke with a careful sort of reticence—‘I enjoy feeling close to him, I suppose’—that the answer was no. When you were sixteen and your cousin Theodora married into House Bar Emmon, you went with the other noblewomen to inspect her bedsheets the next morning, and were horrified by how they chuckled at the large rust-like stain and recalled their own initiations into sex, this unavoidable rite of passage, this ultimate surrender. At breakfast, the men toasted wine and hooted and sang, while Theodora stared down with glazed eyes at her untouched bacon and duck eggs and said when Piper asked how the night went: ‘He wanted me three times. Is there anything I can do to make him stop?’ And you had thought: Aren’t unions like this supposed to be holy? What the hell do the gods have to do with it? Are they in the sweat, in the bleak resignation, in the linen of the sheets? Do they fill the man with blind lust like an animal’s, do they help hold the woman down?

Your eyes close as you lie in bed in the Red Keep, your room adjoining Aegon’s, and suddenly you are back in Winterfell again. You are making notes as the maester shows you the herbs growing in the Glass Gardens when Cregan finds you. He is tall and broad, made more so by the furs that engulf him like mist drapes the stony cliffs of Claw Isle. His voice is booming, thunderous, cataclysmically formidable. He is used to being listened to. He has never been expected to sit quietly as other men charted out his life like the route of a trade ship: here you will go, here you will be emptied of every scrap of value. He says he will give you a tour of the Library Tower. It is not an invitation; an invitation can be declined.

You walk together through the Godswood—dark water, blackberry bushes, crows squawking, gods you do not believe in—and Cregan tells you fond memories of his childhood. He likes hunting and archery. He spars in the courtyard for hours each day. He never stays still, he never goes quiet. He wants to know where you learned to marvel at the ghastly art of piecing broken bodies back together again. He wants to know why you are so different from other women. And he inquires with great fascination about the legendary treasures of your house, not just gold but rubies, jeweled cups, Myrish carpets and Volantene glass, a horn said to summon krakens from the sea, an axe made of Valyrian steel.

Winterfell’s library is sparse and dusty, cobwebs in shadowy alcoves. Cregan Stark thinks you will not notice. As he slips books about anatomy and herbology off the shelves to show you, you cannot help studying his hands, large and calloused and always stained with black patches of ink or soil or soot. They make yours look tiny and defenseless, skin of silk and bones like glass. You picture him claiming you, owning you, climbing into the marital bed knowing that you cannot refuse anything he asks for. You envision him forcing your thighs apart with those huge filthy hands, leaving smudges like ash. You imagine him tearing his way into a part of you that feels so small, so vulnerable; you imagine the suffocating burden of his interminable weight.

A moment of clarity, in the library beathing dust and Cregan’s scent, a woodsmoke musk, a wolflike wildness: I don’t know this man. I don’t trust this man. I’m glad he’s not free to marry me.

This was before the war began, before Cregan’s wife Arra Norrey died birthing their son Rickon, before Jace Velaryon arrived in Winterfell to forge the Pact of Ice and Fire. And when Cregan agreed to support Rhaenyra’s claim to the Iron Throne, and Jace pledged to marry his firstborn daughter to Rickon, the Warden of the North decided there was one last thing he wanted inked into the covenant. He wanted an ally in the South, bottomless wealth, his future children to have Valyrian ancestry. He wanted a woman with vigilant, unflinching eyes and blood on her hands.

He wanted you.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x you #hotd fanfic

[prettieinpink]

Question about Cycle Syncing. Do you know where i can find, like a masterlist of food that fits into the steps of the cycle? I always see the same food but how abt the rest? Would be nice to know for example for meal building.

MASTERLIST: NUTRITION CYCLE SYNCING

This post is a masterlist of everything that is recommended you eat while cycle syncing. if you don’t know what that is, read this beginner guide.

This post is a researched post, because I actually couldn’t find a proper masterlist. So, I researched what kinds of nutrients you need during your 4 phases, but I am NO DOCTOR. Just a little disclaimer!

MENSTRUAL/FOLLICULAR PHASE - high iron, vitamin C foods

VEGETABLES

Spinach

Silver beet

Broccoli

String beans

Peas

Sweet potatoes

Beet greens

Dandelion greens

Collards

Chard

Chilli peppers

Sweet yellow peppers

Parsley

Brussel sprouts

FRUITS

Oranges

Guavas

Black currants

Cantaloupe

Kiwis

Lemons

Lychees

Papayas

Strawberries

Oranges

Watermelon

Figs

Prunes

PROTEINS

Beef

Lamb

Liverwurst

Pork

Veal

Dried beef

Eggs

Shrimp

Clams

Tuna

Sardines

CARBS/OTHER

Whole wheat bread

Enriched pasta

Rye bread

Enriched rice

Tofu

Beans

Lentils

OVULATORY PHASE – complex carbs, lean proteins, anti-inflammatory, vitamin B6, folate/choline

VEGETABLES

Carrots

Spinach

Sweet potato

Red potato

Green peas

Chickpeas

Butternut squash

Asparagus

Turnip greens

Romaine lettuce

Beets

Sweet corn

Mushrooms

Pumpkin

Parsnip

Cauliflower

FRUITS

Bananas

Avocado

Mango

Blueberries

Apple

Peaches

Tangerine

Pink grapefruit

lemons

PROTEINS

Egg whites

Strained yoghurt

Skinless white meat poultry

Plain greek yoghurt

Low fat cottage cheese

Tofu

Lean beef

Powdered peanut butter

Beef liver

Pork loin

Bison

Organ meat

CARBS/OTHER

Lentils

Kidney beans

Green peas

Walnuts

Flaxseeds

Cashews

Almonds

Pistachios

LUTEAL PHASE – High fibre, vitamin B12, magnesium

VEGETABLES

Spinach

Swiss chard

Collard greens

Green peas

Sweet corn

Cabbage

Arugula

Bok choy

Celery

Lettuce

FRUITS

Pears

Strawberries

Avocado

Apples

Raspberries

Blackberries

Blueberries

Bananas

PROTEINS

Animal liver

Animal kidney

Clams

Swiss cheese

Turkey

Crabs

Ham

CARBS/OTHER

Oats

Popcorn

Almonds

Fresh coconut

Sunflower seeds

Dark chocolate

Wheat

barley

#menstrual cycle #women’s cycle #cycle syncing #women’s health #health #self healing #clean girl #green juice girl #cleaneating #healthy eating #healthy girl #glow up #glow up era #nutrition #healthy diet #meal prep #meal plan #anonnie #ask

[askwhatsforlunch]

Crab and Trout Sandwiches

These hearty and tasty Crab and Trout Sandwiches are a wonderful treat for a lake-side picnic. Lovely on a sunny Summer day! Happy Friday!

Ingredients (serves 2):

a small fillet Gravadöring (Cured Trout)

60 grams/2 ounces white crab meat

a pinch of salt and freshly cracked black pepper

3 sprigs Garden Chervil

3 sprigs Garden Parsley

2 heaped tablespoons sour cream

4 slices Wholemeal Loaf

Remove the skin off Gravadöring, and cut half of it into large chunks. Place Gravadöring chunks into a small bowl, and using a hand-held blender, roughly chop. (You can also use a small food processor.) Add crab meat, black pepper and salt. Finely chop fresh Parsley and Chervil, and add to the bowl, along with sour cream. Give a good stir until well-blended.

Generously spread Crab and Trout mixture onto all four Wholemeal Loaf slices. 

Cut remaining Gravadöring thinly, and arrange slices onto two of the ladden Bread slices.

Sandwich each two crab-and-trout-ladden Bread slices together, pressing gently.

Wrap each sandwich tightly in cling film, if you’re going on a picnic, and chill, until serving time.

Enjoy Crab and Trout Sandwiches on a picnic, with ripe tomatoes, crisps and a lovely view on a Pond or a Lake...

#Recipe #Food #Crab and Trout Sandwiches #Crab and Trout Sandwich #Crab and Trout Sandwich recipe #Sandwiches #Sandwich recipe #Burger and Sandwich #Wholemeal Loaf #Wholemeal Bread #Crab Meat #Fresh Crab Meat #Gravadöring #Cured Trout #Trout #Seafood #Fish #Fish and Seafood #Fish Friday #Chervil #parsley #Garden Chervil #Garden Parsley #Sour Cream #Black Pepper #Black Peppercorns #Picnic #Picnic recipe #Summer #Summer recipe

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

Jon Snow: Bravery of an injured boy

When Jon Snow decides to abandon the Free Folk and return to the Night's Watch he's s injured by an arrow on his leg. His injury is pretty serious to the point that even a couple of days later right before the battle of Castle Black he needs help in order to dress himself and his leg hurts a lotl:

His leg still hurt like blazes when he put his weight on it. He'd needed Clydas to help him don his fresh-washed blacks and lace up his boots this morning, and by the time they were done he'd wanted to drown himself in the milk of the poppy

That doesn't stop Jon from joining the fight, though. Despite the fact that his black brothers try to stop him from doing so, he's stubborn enough to decide that he will help fighting the Free Folk.

"I can fight," he insisted when they tried to stop him.

During the preparations and the actual fight Martin describes Jon using a crutch to move around. We also get a couple of mentions of Jon's painful injury:

He could feel the throb of pain where her arrow had gone through the meat and muscle of his thigh

He went downstairs himself to bar the door, trying to work some of the stiffness of his leg.

So what does injured Jon Snow does during the attack on Castle Black? He fights as an archer among his black brothers. He also acts as a mentor to the newer recruit Satin who is fighting next to him by giving him advice on how to fight and encouraging him. Both men attack the Thenns who stormed the castle's gate ( with injured Jon using Longclaw) and later pour boiling oil to enemies who attempt to reach them. It's pretty impressive for a man who can't even move without help:

Jon asked Satin to help him down to the yard. His wounded leg hurt so badly he could hardly walk , even with the crutch.

Even after the first battle of the Night's Watch vs Wildings, Jon's leg continues to hurt him but that once again doesn't stop him from preparing for the next battle:

He shoved aside the furs and sat. The pain in his leg seemed duller, nothing he couldn't stand.[...]The horn blew again, two long blasts, so he slung Longclaw over one shoulder, found his crutch and hobbled down the steps.

During the battle beneath the Wall he even commands the defense once Donal Noye leaves to hold the gate from within the tunnel( and later on when he dies). Our injured boy does a fine job commanding his fellow brothers. He gives them courage and inspires then to fight harder with his speech to them.

Once again, Martin shows how tired and wounded Jon is in order to highlight that despite all these difficulties Jon remains a fierce defender of the Wall until the very end.

The wall is mine, Jon reminded himself whenever he felt his strength flagging. He had taken up a longbow himself, and his fingers felt crabbed and stiff, half-frozen. His fever was back as well, and his leg would tremble uncontrollably, sending a white- hot knife of pain right through him. One more arrow, and I'll rest, he told himself, half a hundred times. Just one more.

#jon snow #asoiaf meta #canonjonsnow #valyrianscrolls #a post of ice and fire #jon snow meta #ASOS jon snow #asos jon snow vii #asos jon snow viii

[akwolfgrl]

How sweet it is to be loved by them part 1

I've changed somethings it's now abo and going to be monster trio. Zoro and sanji are married alredy when they meet Luffy.

Luffy watch a blond head bob in the water as they drew closer to the shore. Luffy stood up in the boat and waved his arm excitedly. He was sure he'd have to wait till the grandline before meeting a mermaid! Yet thire they were clear as day.

“Hi!” Luffy called out to them.

“Luffy!” Koby whispered. “Stop, they could be dangerous!” Silly Koby, how was he supposed to become a marine if he was such a coward?

The mermaid stopped swimming and turned towards them before waving back and swimming towards them. He placed his arms against the top of their tiny boat, a net sling over one shoulder. His long blonde hair was the color of gold, yet far more precious, Luffy longed to run his fingers threw it. The shulder length hair was wet from the water curling at the ends, his blue eyes were the same color where the sky met the sea, he had curly eyebrows peeking out from his wet bangs. He had on two mismatched gold earrings, one was tear drop shaped and one had a blue heart dangling from its gold chain. His scent hit Luffy hard, spicy as Vaca atolada, yet salty and fresh like the crashing waves of the seas, a soft sugary drink hit the tip of his tongue allowing him to know they were an omega… no not AN omega but HIS omega

“Hello, what can I do for you?” The pretty mermaid omega asked.

“Are you a mermaid?” Luffy asked him, he was far too pretty not to be.

“Oh my Luffy! You can't ask people if they're mermaids!” Koby hissed at him as the mermaid laughed.

“No unfortunately I'm not,” He kicked his legs up willing his toes. “See no tail,”

“Hmm,” Luffy wasn't convinced but then again he could be hiding. After all, if he didn't want anyone to know he'd never say and deny the truth. “Then if you're not a mermaid what are you?”

“I'm a chef, I suppose a traveling chef now. I pick up work where I can,” He replied. “Sanji by the way, Luffy and who's your friend?”

“I'm Koby,”

“A chef!?” Luffy stomach growled causing the mermaid Sanji to laugh again.

“Come on you sound hungry, join me for breakfast. My house boat is just over there,” Sanji pointed towards the shore and a larger boat parked by the dock.

Luffy and Koby paddled their way over to Sanji's house boat. The blonde omega was climbing up into his home when they arrived. His long muscular legs and thighs were warped in a brightly colored swim trunks with fishes on them. He was slim with a tiny waist, his shoulders were broader than his own but he looked as if he was still growing into his body. He hung the net of crabs up to dry.

“Let me get dressed and I'll start breakfast. The galley is right through this door and to the left,” Sanji spoke, opening said door before turning right.

Luffy dragged Koby with him to the door and to the left. He took a seat at the small table egar to eat. Luffy could smell hints of anthoer alpha, but it was faded. The galley was warm and cozy, the cabinets painted a soft blue, the cupushioens on the chairs and benches, and darker blue. On the wall above his head was an empty sword rack. Thire were photos that littered the walls before Luffy could proprly look. Sanji returned wearing black slacks and a blue long sleve button-up, his long hair pulled back.

“Whata ya makein!” Luffy asked, sniffing the air. Whatever it was, it smelled like meat and bread.

“Cachorro com Ovo,” Sanji replied, rolling his sleeves up. Luffy watched as more skin was once more reviled.

“Mmmm I haven't had that in forever!” Luffy was excited. He loved food more than almost anything else. He was so happy his mate was a cook.

“What is it?” Koby asked.

“Dog with egg,” Luffy exspined. “Thire no dog, it's just bread with a meat stew with fried egg and tomatoes! It's like one of the few things Gramps knows how to make,” Sometimes after training, if Luffy did well, Gramps would make food as a reward.

#one piece #fanfic #alpha beta omega #roronoa zoro #sanji #zoro #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #monkey d luffy #luffy #luffy x zoro #luffy x sanji #lusan #zosan #married zosan #zolu #zolusan #omega sanji #alpha zoro #alpha luffy #shells town #How sweet it is to be loved by them

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

what do you think the chains favorite breakfast foods are (if they eat breakfast)

I WAS HALFWAY THROUGH ANSWERING THIS AND MY PHONE DIED AND DELETED EVERYTHING I HAD WRITTEN, DEATH AND SORROW AND DESPAIR.

Okay I'm good now.

ANYWAYS, I split you ask into two sections: first, their favorite food ever if they can get their hands on it, the second what they like to eat on the road. And then a final unhinged rant at the bottom about the one thing about teenage boys/young men and their food that I'll never understand: Bacon.

Legend--I have a feeling that he likes sweets. Specifically, waffles with whipped cream and berries. They're a little burnt, but Ravio made them for him, so he'll pretend he doesn't notice (and grows to like them better that way). On the road, he'll go for coffee/tea (he's not picky) if one of the others make it, or nothing at all.

Hyrule--does he have a favorite breakfast food? Food isn't very stable where he comes from--Legend and Wild would spoil him so much in regard of expanding his palate. But I imagine that something like a fried mixture of beef/sausage, vegetables, and a starch (perhaps an even poorer version of an already poor person food Shepherd's Pie, perhaps? it could be a breakfast food) would be a sort of filling, tasty, and easy to procure/make/preserve food that he'd like. On that note, I would say something simple, easy to get and preserve, and hardy would be his go to breakfast on the road--maybe meat jerky.

Wild--Also a sweets person. Fruit cake, cinnamon rolls, frosted cupcakes, basically all the little delicacies he could get at a dumb party 100 years ago, he ain't picky, it's for breakfast and it's fueling a day long sugar high. On the road he, unlike the other Links, can be pretty creative with his breakfasts, and he likes his spice as well. So, I think he'd like Meaty rice balls.

Four--direct this question to someone else please. He has four voices in his head fighting to answer right now, and none of them agree. I surely dont know if he doesn't.

Time--Pancakes and farm-fresh scrambled eggs and toast with jam. Malon makes it for him. What can I say. On the road he is a habitual coffee drinker, he wouldn't be functioning in the mornings without it. But he'll also take a poached egg if he has the time (heh).

Warrior--unlike Time who is a habitual coffee drinker, he is a coffee connoisseur. He likes the breakfasts they serve at the castle--a lot of meats and fruits, expensive, and on top of it all, well plated. Not to say that he can't eat simply--he was in a war, mind you--just that he prefers not to. On the road, he strikes me as the kind that would drink those tasteless quick oats (y'know you just add water, shake and go?) and also be very vocal about much time (heh) it's saving him (being none). I don't know what the Hyrule equivalent of those are.

Twilight--our favorite country boy. I think he likes a true southern breakfast. Ham and pan-fried potatoes and eggs over-easy, with a side of cheesy grits and sausage biscuits and gravy like Uli used to make for him (I HC this man has a black hole of a stomach, out of all the Links). On the road he'll inhale a boiled egg or two (salted and peppered if he's feeling fancy) that Wild made for him. I also head canon that Twilight likes tea with an intensity. And not only sweet tea, but like, ALL of the teas. He gets obsessive. I literally have in my detail/subplot tracking documents for BDOR the following entry underneath chapter 8--Tea: "Twilight’s cure to Wild’s voice is tea. His cure to life’s woes is tea."

Wind--whatever his grandma is making, probably with seafood involved. I've had a crab-spinach-egg casserole for breakfast before, it was good, so I'll give him that. On the road, I can see him packing a lot of bread and some meat (dried fish if he can get it).

Sky--This guy honestly has me stumped. Do those on Skyloft eat Loftwing eggs, or are they considered taboo? They have a lot of pumpkins around--do they incorporate them into their meals?@needfantasticstories you know a lot of Skyward Sword lore, bequeath me your wisdom. Anyways on the road he's a meat and bread person like Wind. Practical.

Now, for my rant about young men and their food quirks:

Bacon. Bacon, as I have witnessed, drives the most reasonable of men insane.

I just a few things to say about this. I have younger brothers, and I born witness to many male sleepover parties. I--as the resident nasty fe-male XD--have been (forced) to cook for them in the mornings. Set a pile of bacon in front of them (or really any meat, but I have found that bacon has the strongest affect) and they turn into WOLVES. They start to crowd around and stare as soon as they begin to smell it (which hey, give me space in the kitchen, please!), snatch it up before the grease even cools, and then retreat into their separate corners of the living room/kitchen and scarf it down, all while avoiding eye contact and projecting just how much they don't care about the bacon they're eating (perhaps so one of the others don't take notice and try to steal it). There's an odd little ritual/rules to the thing, too: for example, it's frowned upon to take more than three or four pieces at a time, there has to be enough for everyone, obviously; but if you finish a second and third serving before some poor sod stumbles in and gets himself a piece--why that is acceptable, even encouraged. But at all times, you could feel them watching each other, judging whether each person had taken acceptable amounts. 6 at once, I have determined, is veritably considered too much, as I have watched an entire group of mid-late teenage boys chase another through the house and outside for this crime of greed. Another thing was the presence of literally any other edible food. If there was anything else--eggs, fruit, even something like a few slices of unbuttered toast or coffee or juice sitting out, this reaction was largely tempered--even if none of the boys took the other foods, they would take a meager one or two pieces of bacon and be satisfied, perhaps reassured that other food was present and their hope of a filling breakfast was not in vain. Most, at that point they would restrain themselves from eating anything (other than their bacon tax) and wait so that everyone could eat together. But the mad scramble that occurs when there is bacon and only bacon in the kitchen (even if other things are cooking, nearly done, and visible to them) is otherworldly.

I never saw it with anything else, not eggs, not fruit, not even sausage or any other breakfast food. And it must be noted that I was exempt from their little ritual of judgement--perhaps as the only woman, or perhaps as the cook, I was allowed to take as much bacon as I liked from the pile, once the initial wave had attacked and retreated with their bounty (and the strips of bacon had cooled enough that mortal human hands such as my own could pick them up). And while they behaved like beasts, I was always very politely thanked for making breakfast once it was over and the frenzy had abated.

Anyways, your ask got me thinking about Malon making a pile of bacon for the boys, activating the beforehand undiscovered "PANIC! BACON!" mode in their brains, and just being utterly confused as they turn into animals. Just the boys descend, and then a few shouts of "Thanks, Malon!" drift in on the wind as they scatter like racoons with treasure, leaving an empty plate spinning behind them.

#linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #lu wild #lu twilight #lu legend #lu time #lu sky #lu wind #lu warrior #lu warriors #wild linked universe #twilight linked universe #legend linked universe #time linked universe #sky linked universe #wind linked universe #warriors linked universe #i almost forgot a boy! #lu four #four linked universe #cheetoanswers

[rayshippouuchiha]

I can’t stop thinking about the kinda shit the people of Uzushiogakure would eat, though? Their cuisine, their food traditions, etc… Obviously a lot of seafood (likely both raw and cooked alike), and given how connected they are to the sea, and with the idea of them Needing more salt than others, I could see a popular tea for them being konbu-cha (kelp infused in hot water and sometimes salt, a rather savory and apparently salty tea!), but what about specifics?

Obviously they’d probably eat a lot of sushi and sashimi, but what kind? Do you think they’d often eat poisonous and lethal fish and other ocean life, what with the god killing thing? Would it become a common delicacy for them to eat things like fugu (a highly toxic blowfish, if prepared incorrectly) with little prep, even or especially raw? Is that toxicity just like zesty seasoning to them, or a flavor most can’t comprehend?

What’s the more popular cooking method in Uzushio- Steaming, grilled, frying, something else? Why would it be that popular, and what would work best in that environment?

What about alcohol- Do they favor sake? Shōchū? Something else? And other drinks- What kind of teas would they have?

Just! I’m sorry for rambling but I’m a Nerd and Uzushiogakure gets me Every Time.

Don't apologize! Details like this are something I get caught up in too!!

I think I've said it before but when it comes to relating Uzushio to a real place I, personally, tend to very loosely model Uzushio off of Okinawa.

So you have that influence plus the general nature I tend to give the Uzumaki.

There were other Clans too on Uzushio of course, but the Uzumaki ruled from time immemorial so their preferences influenced things a great deal.

For beverages: Konbu-cha served either plain or with Uzushio brown sugar for those who want a hint of sweetness. Water, obviously, though serving it with slices of fresh fruit and/or sprigs of mint mixed in is also common. Various fruit juices from native fruits are also popular, especially with children. The Uzumaki also have been known to drink sea water both casually and medicinally as they require higher alt levels than other Clans do. Flower teas are also popular, specifically fire-lily and hibiscus teas.

Traditional alcohol on Uzushio is awamori, which is distilled (like shochu) instead of brewed. The Uzumaki are known for making and consuming a specific type of awamori called hanazake which tends to be at least 120-proof and flammable.

Like you said seafood is the backbone of the cuisine in Uzushio with Clans like the Uzumaki having the ability to eat even the most poisonous of fair without too much in the way of preparation.

Fugu, stone and lion fish, as well as certain sharks are all common foods for Uzumaki that most other Clans do not consume regularly if ever. Young Uzumaki are often fed higher concentrations of normally poisonous dishes to help them develop a healthy constitution.

Crab is a common meat source as well, since the Uzushio spider crabs are prolific, breed quickly and easily, and grow to unsettling sizes.

Sea turtle used to be a common dish too but Something Happened in the past and Uzushio stopped all consumption of sea turtle meat.

Pig is also a very very common meat in Uzushio as the island is the perfect place for wild boar to flourish. There was an entire Clan, in fact, who was in charge of the cultivation of Uzushio's boar population.

Steaming and hot stone grilling are the most popular cooking styles in Uzushio. There's also an abundance of hot and cold soups. Frying tends to be reserved for desserts and specialty dishes.

Bitter melons, taro, ube, coconuts, papaya, and bamboo shoots are also also common.

#RayRambles #Naruto #Tsunami AU #Uzushio #Whirlpool Calls Him Home AU