#garlic benefits for men

[sexologistdoctorsblog]

Garlic not only adds flavor to your meals but also helps to improve blood flow, making it a natural solution for erectile dysfunction in men.

[immediatebreakfast]

This entry is really good in exemplifying the gothic themes around Lucy, and the men that now surround her because of her illness. It's not only the gift of the medicine flowers and the promise of silence, it's how Van Helsing has been acting in a more so paternal like way towards Lucy up to today that she now has enough information to put on the correct act once again.

"These are for you, Miss Lucy," he said. "For me? Oh, Dr. Van Helsing!" "Yes, my dear, but not for you to play with. These are medicines." Here Lucy made a wry face. 

Van Helsing, and Lucy's dynamic it's both simple, and complicated once one is aware of what kind of power he can have over her, even without meaning it. Our professor is a very much older, wiser, and a little bit intimidating man while Lucy is the perfect picture of a victorian young lady. So, it's not really a surprise that Lucy immediatly shapes her attitude to play in a social dynamic in which Van Helsing has the benefit.

If Van Helsing unintentionally wants to act like a father towards Lucy, then her only cards to play is act like a daughter. I say unintentionally because Van Helsing never overstep from his role of doctor in the more practical sense, but sentiments and human emotion don't have lines cut in steel. I think this is also amplified with the absence of a literary father figure in the Westenra household.

"No trifling with me! I never jest! There is grim purpose in all I do; and I warn you that you do not thwart me. Take care, for the sake of others if not for your own." Then seeing poor Lucy scared, as she might well be, he went on more gently: "Oh, little miss, my dear, do not fear me. I only do for your good; but there is much virtue to you in those so common flowers. 

Van Helsing telling Lucy what the garlic flowers are for, but also including that she cannot "play" with them, mentioning how he could tell Arthur about her scrunching her nose, downright scolding her for questioning the flowers then comforting her when he noticed Lucy's fear. All of these acts let us see how Van Helsing is infatilizing Lucy which extends in how the gothic criticizes the social roles that allow Van Helsing to do this in the first place.

In the gothic genre, masculinity is presented as a threatening power depending on who wields it. Is It a father, a villain, a lover, a suitor? No matter who, all of them represent an anxiety, a fear, or a reflection of the attitudes of the victorian era that the Gothic aims to show.

Lucy is a gothic damsel whose age, gender, and illness makes her extremely vulnerable to the social expectations of the time, so in response, she uses her social wits to make the best out of a situation when she finds herself in front of someone who can put power over her. This is why Lucy acts more childish towards Van Helsing as he lectures her on (specifically) obedience. It's almost the picture of a father teaching his daughter to both obey, and listen.

[scotianostra]

October 4th 1716 saw the birth of Scottish physician James Lind

Born in Edinburgh in to a family of merchants, Lind was educated at the Royal High School.

In 1731, aged 15 he registered as an apprentice at the College of Surgeons in Edinburgh and in 1739 became a surgeon's mate, seeing service around the world in the Navy.

James Lind is remembered as the man who helped to conquer a killer disease. His reported experiment on board a naval ship in 1747 showed that oranges and lemons were a cure for scurvy, he selected 12 men from the ship, all suffering from scurvy, and divided them into six pairs, giving each group different additions to their basic diet. Some were given cider, others seawater, others a mixture of garlic, mustard and horseradish. Another group of two were given spoonfuls of vinegar, and the last two oranges and lemons. Those fed citrus fruits experienced a remarkable recovery. While there was nothing new about his discovery - the benefits of lime juice had been known for centuries - Lind had definitively established the superiority of citrus fruits above all other 'remedies'.

In 1748, Lind retired from the navy and went to Edinburgh University to take professional qualifications. In 1753, he published 'A Treatise of the Scurvy' and in 1757 'An Essay on the Most Effectual Means of Preserving the Health of Seamen in the Royal Navy', which threw much light on the appalling living conditions and diet of seamen. In 1758, he was appointed physician to the Naval Hospital at Haslar in Gosport where he investigated the distillation of fresh water from salt water for supply to ships.

Although the importance of Lind's findings on scurvy were recognised at the time, it was not until more than 40 years later that an official Admiralty order was issued on the supply of lemon juice to ships. With this, scurvy disappeared almost completely from the Royal Navy.

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Enter Sandman

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Lover is a Day

**poor Gojo. what did he do to deserve this hehe

**so sorry for the tardiness, I had a hyperfixation on CoD men and physically couldn't continue until it went away 💀

...

Gojo couldn't pinpoint exactly when he sensed the change, but it was undeniably there. It wasn't a glaring transformation; instead, it manifested subtly through the way you and Suguru interacted. He had always recognized that the two of you were cut from the same cloth, born of the same feather - you could use any analogy, but the essence remained the same.

Even without the benefit of his Six Eyes, Gojo couldn't overlook how close you and Suguru had become. Initially, he didn't mind it, or at least he convinced himself as much. He attempted to brush off the feeling as best as he could, but he couldn't help but notice how you slightly tensed under his touch yet effortlessly melted into Suguru's warmth. He observed it in the way Suguru openly expressed his emotions to you, and how you reciprocated, all while Gojo remained in the dark.

The ironic part is, he couldn't harbor resentment over it. Especially not when both of you made sincere efforts to include him in every aspect.

Whenever you ventured around with Kento and Haibara, you'd return with an assortment of captivating trinkets, gifting them all to Gojo. Each one somehow reminding you of him. Your manner of bestowing these gifts had a certain nonchalance to it, as if the act was more of a hassle. Yet, Gojo could easily discern the genuine satisfaction that flickered in your eyes each time he accepted your offerings with a smile.

(Side Note: His room, once relatively bare within the mansion, had now transformed into an overabundance of these seemingly insignificant items you had collected during your travels. Few were privy to this fact, but he had explicitly instructed the servants not to disturb these items, opting to personally tend to their cleaning whenever the dust settled. However, based on how frequently he handled them, barely a speck of dust managed to find its way onto them.)

Each morning, on his way to Jujutsu High, Suguru would purchase konbini delicacies for Gojo. The bag would be packed with an assortment of ready-to-eat foods, including an egg salad sandwich, three garlic and mayonnaise-laden pork sausage onigiris, a variety of puddings, and a couple of those sparkling water drinks that Gojo was obsessed with.

(Side Note: Suguru, naturally, would purchase some food for you as well. However, just to ruffle your feathers, he'd opt for items you'd never laid your taste buds on before. Since your arrival in Japan, you'd ventured into trying a variety of new cuisines and managed to identify some go-to favorites that you indulged in regularly. Yet, this man had a peculiar penchant for introducing you to peculiar flavors that either awakened your palate or left you traumatized by their taste.)

(Add-On: Not to imply he didn't also buy your beloved comfort foods. Those were discreetly stashed away in his backpack. Given how often he pulled this trick, you usually had to wrestle his backpack off his shoulders just to access your treats. And then, Gojo would swoop in and grab them before you, playfully holding them above your head, taunting and teasing you.)

Either way, Gojo couldn't shake the feeling that something transpired between you and Suguru last week. The exact timing eluded him, but what he does know is that both of you were absent from school for two consecutive days before eventually resurfacing. There were no messages in either group chat, no responses to Gojo's texts—just an absolute wall of silence.

When the duo finally returned, it was almost as if nothing had occurred. They deftly evaded every inquiry with well-practiced nonchalance, much to Gojo's exasperation. And then came the shift in Suguru's and his behavior towards you. Well, if being honest, it wasn't entirely novel. Suguru had always displayed a protective streak when it came to you. Think back to the time Gojo accidentally hurt you during a footsie game beneath the table. If looks could kill, Gojo would've been six feet under by now.

Nevertheless, his protective instincts towards you had become subtly more pronounced. He hovered closely, always a step behind, though it might be attributed to your joint missions together. It appeared the higher-ups had taken pity on you, transitioning you from solo missions to partnered ones.

Throughout the week, the two of you had been dispatched on various missions. Occasionally, when Gojo completed his assignments early (he had been partnered with Kento, and their compatibility was less than stellar; Haibara had been granted a day off due to a mild illness), he would swing by to check in on you and Suguru. And he had to confess, watching the two of you collaborate to vanquish curses was truly a remarkable sight.

So, with your cursed chains, you've got this knack for putting curses in a tight spot, just enough time for Suguru to work his magic and send them packing. But, you know, you two aren't into keeping things simple. Nope, you like to go all out and make curses' lives a little more interesting.

Picture this: you set up traps that are like a spider's web, and the curses are the unlucky bugs that end up stuck right in the middle. The real brilliance? Suguru's the maestro who guides these curses right into your web of chains. It's like teamwork made in heaven.

What Suguru truly values about working with you is your unique ability to alter the core of curses. Your chains aren't limited to subduing; they possess the exceptional capability to absorb and transform. Through this absorption, you wield the power to modify various aspects of curses, turning their own energy against them and granting Suguru an edge in his exorcism efforts

When Suguru takes in curses, he's devouring the darkest fragments of humanity. So, when you saw him extend his hand toward a writhing mass of malevolence, you couldn't help but offer to share the load.

He hesitated, his doubt hanging in the air like a fading whisper. It was almost as if he feared believing in your words, as if hope itself was a fragile thing. Yet, in that unspoken trust you both held, he conceded. So he stood there, silently watching your graceful dance of spiritual chains, invisible to all but the likes of Gojo.

When it was time, you handed it back to him, and he consumed it, slowly, cautiously. It was like witnessing a smile returning to his eyes, a spark reigniting in the depths of his being. The taste was...nothingness. And the pain, the relentless ache he usually carried, dissipated dramatically.

You'll forever hold onto that memory, of his dark green aura lightening, his eyes turning toward you with a glimmer of hope and something deeper, something you dared not name.

Nevertheless, the shift in dynamics among the three of you left Gojo with a bittersweet taste, like the remnants of a fading dream.

He had nurtured a hope, delicate as the petals of a cherry blossom, that the fortress guarding your heart had begun to crumble, revealing the vulnerability he had longed to see mirrored in your eyes.

Yet, like elusive stardust slipping through his fingers, something veiled him from fully breaching the walls surrounding your soul. He wondered in the quiet hours of the night if it was an oversight, a missed note in the melody of your intricate life story.

Memories of that September night hung in the air, suspended like the phases of the moon, each one a query without a response. How had you ventured into the labyrinthine embrace of the Jujutsu world?

It was Ieiri who found herself in the unusual role of comforter—or at least, her unique brand of comfort. If you could even call it that. She had a knack for subtly peppering him with teasing and sly remarks, cleverly diverting his attention from the shift in dynamics. It was her way of dealing with the situation, her way of saying, "I've got your back, even if it means poking fun at you."

Amidst this unspoken tension, their gazes occasionally flicked to catch the fleeting frowns that played on Gojo's lips whenever he observed the interactions between you and Suguru. It was as though they were all tiptoeing around the elephant in the room, leaving Ieiri as the bold soul who chose humor as her weapon of choice in navigating the uncharted waters of this evolving relationship.

(Side Note: Although Kento wasn't particularly fond of Gojo and his often infuriating antics, he couldn't stand to see his...well, let's just call him a "companion," frown. So, from time to time, when Kento was aware that Gojo was in the vicinity, he'd pick up something sweet. He knew Gojo had a soft spot for these treats, so he'd casually toss one in Gojo's direction. Most of the time, it would collide with Gojo's Infinite Void, but occasionally, on those rare moments, the confections would find their way to the back of his head.)

Ieiri had never been one for beating around the bush. So, when the two of you found yourselves once more beneath the weathered embrace of the wooden bridge on campus, stars winking overhead and smoke spiraling around you, she confronted you. Her approach was careful and cautious, an acknowledgment of the gravity that hung in the air.

"Something happened with Suguru, didn't it?" Ieiri inquired, her gaze fixed on the water trickling through her black socks. The nonchalant action struck a dissonant chord within you.

You squinted your eyes, considering briefly the path of feigned ignorance. However, the weight of truth beckoned, and you decided that the burden of falsehood was far too heavy.

With a casual shrug, you admitted, "You could say that."

As she exhaled another plume of smoke, the brunette posed another question, shrouded in the gentle cloak of uncertainty, "And what about me?"

At this, you hesitated, the lines of your brow etched with genuine perplexity.

"I don't follow."

In response to your words, the young teen let out an irritated click of her tongue, a spark of fading fire in her golden-brown eyes. She frowned at her own reflection rippling in the water.

"Of course, you don't."

For a time, the quietude settled between you, punctuated only by the celestial dance of stars above. From your vantage point, nestled beneath the bridge's embrace, you had a perfect view of their shimmering freedom, despite the barrier before you.

They twinkled with a grace foreign to your own world.

"Gojo's sulking."

"I know."

"So, you're ignoring it?"

"...Yeah."

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"So, you keep telling me."

Another stretch of silence enveloped you both before you posed a question of your own.

"How exactly... did you find out about the deal?"

Ieiri reached for another stick from the box, drawing closer to you, seeking your assistance in lighting it.

"Overheard it from the Zenin's when Yaga took me over for something."

What?

The atmosphere thickened with tension, a sensation that didn't sit well with the young Shoko. Shifting uncomfortably where she sat, her brunette locks framing her face, she observed you through the rippling reflection in the water.

"Why were you near the Zenin household?" The chill in your voice unsettled her, but she could discern the restraint in your tone, an effort to temper the sharpness.

She offered a nonchalant shrug, attempting to downplay the unease that had settled over the conversation.

"They asked if I could help with a cursed technique gone awry. They didn't divulge many details."

Here we go, mind your words. Ieiri thought.

"What specifically, though?" Ieiri had always placed her trust in you, even after uncovering the layers of your past. Yet, in moments like these, your intensity still sent shivers down her spine, a blend of composure and wrath.

"I...don't know. It's hard to put into words. I mean, I never really saw it clearly — I think it was a person, though. But...it's all so confusing."

In that very moment, it was as if the harmonious symphony of nature — the crickets, the birds, even the whispering wind — had been swallowed by an eerie silence. Even the water, for the briefest of moments, seemed to take on a murky, uncertain hue.

"How come?" Your voice came slowly.

She clicked her tongue, eyes squinting at the ripples, "I swear... it was half-human, half-curse."

Ieiri's revelation hung in the air, a half-human, half-curse entity — a concept so enigmatic it seemed to defy the laws of their world. She had ventured into uncharted territory, and you couldn't resist exhaling a relieved sigh much to her surprise.

"And here, I thought you were going to say something else. Not gonna lie, feels like you're being a bit paranoid, no?"

Perhaps it was the way you suddenly regained your composure that cast doubt upon her words. Your eyes returned to their usual nonchalant demeanor, accompanied by that ever-charming lazy smile she adored so much.

Taking the cigarette from Ieiri's mouth, to her surprise, you allowed the burning end to dance playfully between your fingers, leaving them adorned with soot and a hint of injury.

"I don't think that's possible, Ieiri," you chimed in a sing-song manner. "Though, I must admit, it would be quite the intriguing twist if it were true — as fucked up as that may sound."

It was Ieiri who had to intervene, flicking the burning stick from your fingers, unwilling to witness further harm.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her gesture, and your hand reached out for hers. Her skin was smooth, unmarred, in stark contrast to your own. With your thumb, you traced gentle circles upon the back of her hand.

Ieiri found herself almost melting under your touch. It was a rarity, your tactile contact. You allowed a few into your personal sphere — Nanami, Suguru, and Satoru — but even then, physical closeness was a privilege extended sparingly. Ieiri nodded, finding solace in your warmth.

She unveils the box, and with your assistance, a slender stick finds its way into your fingers. You delicately place it upon Ieiri's awaiting lips, a small smile gracing your features as you ignite the tip. Your eyes remain locked onto her warm, brown gaze.

An addiction.

She leans into you, her head resting gently upon your shoulder. Together, you both peer down at the tranquil stream below, while your gaze finds solace in the expanse of the night sky above.

Kindred spirits.

The closest of confidants.

For she is your dearest friend, and you are hers, right?

Right?

Still, a question lingered in the recesses of her thoughts.

Despite the burning desire to give voice to her question, she'd rather keep the peace.

Perhaps, in that moment, it was her silent acquiescence that marked her eventual undoing.

...

(A/N): Nothing in the Jujutsu world is healthy, so don't expect healthy relationships and friendships. Toxicity all the way 😁

Nah, as soon as I saw Idalia heading up to Florida I said nope. Canceled everything. Luckily, I got my concert tickets fully refunded so now I'm a few dollars richer than before. However, for all of my Florida fans, hope you're safe!

Is Ieiri in love with you? That's a good question that I'm willing to explore. (I was in a mood lol)

This is the beginnings of Suguru's and your's unhealthy co-dependency. And I'm not sorry whatsoever.

What Gojo didn't quite grasp was that it wasn't a matter of trust. Instead, it was a deep-seated, almost inexplicable shame that held him back from touching the very edges of your soul.

Your eyes often gravitate towards the night sky, quietly marveling at the stars' freedom, your expression almost content but tinged with a hint of bitterness. It's a testament to your ability to conceal your true feelings.

Conversely, Ieiri's gaze tends to be drawn downward, fixating on the flowing waters below with a solemn demeanor. Witnessing the relentless flow of time as each ripple becomes a reminder of moments slipping away. It's the cruel paradox of her life, forever tied to the present while yearning for the elusive permanence of the past.

The irony lies in their contrasting perspectives, for while you yearn for the freedom of the stars, you remain tethered to your earthly burdens. And Ieiri, who gazes into the depths of time, is paradoxically trapped in the present, unable to escape the relentless flow of existence.

Irony: The act of looking up at the sky has always been viewed as a hopeful action.

Irony: Sitting by a river, holding hands, is an intimate act. Almost romantic. (This is one-sided.)

Some people use pain as a way to ground themselves back in reality. Such as snapping a plastic band on their wrist, pinching themselves, and what-not. But burning yourself is a dangerous and unhealthy method. I only use this is to show your more unhinged side.

The only reason 'Satoru' is used in this episode is because it was written in Ieiri's POV. You have yet to say it yourself.

You are not against gaslighting your friends in order to get what you want. You're not a good person just as you aren't a bad person. You're just a slave to circumstance.

You also know that Ieiri is a fan of physical touch so you use it against her. Confusing her with incredibly intimate actions to distract her.

Just as I was finishing this up, I realized I hadn't turned in an essay that was due the 30th and everyday it's not submitted is 20 points less. Please manifest with me 🥹

Guilt, imprisonment, and something else are your current running theme.

Originally:

I had absolutely no idea what did episode was going to be about.

Initially, this episode was intended to bear the title 'Cirice.' The plan was for it to be chock-full of lore, unveiling some significant, long-held secrets. However, during a call with my bestie, I experienced a breakthrough and made a radical decision to overhaul it entirely. Some of you might have witnessed the chaos I caused with the TCT Masterlist and the TCT Timeline - that was actually me attempting to find the most suitable pacing for everything.

Initially, Suguru was meant to dodge your attempts to retrieve your snacks and dangle them above your head. However, I wanted to incorporate a more trio-based interaction into this scenario.

Ieiri was initially meant for a brief appearance, but fate had other plans.

"...his eyes turning toward you with a glimmer of hope and something deeper, something you dared not name..." The emotion you dared not name is adoration.

"...left Gojo with a bittersweet taste, like the remnants of a fading dream." Is a direct reference to Gojo waking up from his dream. His dream is the Hidden Inventory Arc.

"And what about me?" This is Ieiri's way of asking you if you've not is how your actions impact her personally. When you respond, "I don't follow." You are lying. You do know, you're just ignoring it.

"An addiction..." This line concealed not just her nicotine craving but also her yearning for your undivided attention.

"For she is your dearest friend, and you are hers, right?" It is a direct reference to how Suguru and Gojo are Ieiri's best friends yet she isn't their's.

"...Despite the burning desire to give voice to her question, she'd rather keep the peace..." I'm a firm believer that had Ieiri taken a bit of initiative in creating a more intimate connection with the boys, they might've considered her a best friend. At the very least, a close one.

"...Perhaps, in that moment, it was her silent acquiescence that marked her eventual undoing..." Foreshadowing.

Cursed technique gone wrong? Half-human, half-curse? The fuck?

Also, how the fuck do you know the ZENIN CLAN? Like yeah, you play the game but even then, what exactly is this so-called game?

The question you should be asking yourself, as a reader, is simple --- on which side are you? Are you on the winning side with Gojo and Ieiri? Or are you on the losing side with Suguru, Haibara, and Kento?

And what did you mean by 'Deal'? It's like the second or third time we hear this.

Oh, Halloween's coming!

Drop a comment!

Feel free to donate me a 🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

[nathanbatemanfucker]

summary: you’re a cowboy like me.

pairing: cowgirl!reader x cowboy!din djarin

contents: 18+ content, loneliness, alcohol mention, smoking mention, typical Wild West violence & values (light torture, murder, stealing), pining if you squint

word count: 2.6k

an: the urge to write real recognizes real as the summary was strong. just a heads up that these two are NOT GOOD PEOPLE. they aren’t honorable or heroic and some of this will be pretty fucked up. with that being said, here is the first chapter! honestly i’m so excited to share this with y’all, let me know what ya think!

series masterlist | writing masterlist

Being a nomad of sorts has its perks, or at least that’s how you’ve always framed it. You’re slippery as a snake, sliding in and out of rich folks' lives just when they start to thinking you’ll be sticking around. It gets you a hoard of benefits; weapons and supplies for the never-ending road, bonds to sell, and stacks of money to hold you over as you sneak into the quiet of the night. You do your best to leave on decent terms— especially if you can imagine returning to some of these places— but some just can’t understand the way you live. You’ve learned to live with their disappointment.

Your life has been days and days of being misunderstood, what’s another?

It’s not the easiest way to live by any means and at times when the night is too cold or the afternoons too hot you wish that you could settle down like others do. But you are wiser than that. If you were to settle down somewhere, that loneliness that only rears its head every blue moon would become a daily occurrence. Yes, this life can be lonely, but at least there is some semblance of connection you find in learning someone so well that you wiggle into their heart. Charm takes intimacy, and you’re only equipped to handle that on a one-way street. The bridge to your heart crumbled and collapsed with the loss of your family, what feels like eons ago. From that moment on, this wandering shell of a person is who you became.

You’re settled just on the outskirts of a quiet, quaint town named Strawberry. There’s a little rundown shack near a stretch of wood that’s perfect for your party of one. Your first stop after securing the shack and leaving a few things behind is getting a hot meal at the saloon. There’s only so much foraged produce and rice cakes a person can live on before the belly craves more.

It’ll also give you a chance to scope things out— more specifically the people that seem to be in need of lightening their pockets from the tricks up your sleeve. This saloon is tinier than the ones you have been to before, but the mouthwatering scent of garlic and various herbs is mixed with cigarette smoke and the rowdy sound of nightly celebrations and poker chips. There’s a variety of folks here, women and men of all kinds, helpful in making sure you don’t stick out as you survey the place.

From what you’ve seen so far of the town it’s aptly named, the folks are sweet and welcoming. The guilt that used to sit in your heart about conning people like this has faded. You’re surviving, do what you can and must. It’s nothing personal, just the way life goes. But you do go out of your way to go for assholes, and the rich of the rich. Sometimes you even give back. There’s some semblance of honor you live by, even if it’s not much.

It's just a week later that things change— life changes, your path unknowingly transforming in just a matter of seconds. Because the moment you meet him, you know he’s the one.

Not like in those cheesy, bullshit stories girls at every saloon fawn over. Not like the love your mother and father used to spew, the love that was so genuine but as you grew felt more and more unattainable. But like you’ve always wanted— like you’ve convinced yourself you can handle.

He can be your partner, he can make this life a little bit easier.

A partner would make this game easier for you. As a woman in the West, the target on your back was bigger than the noon sun. No level of mastery can make being a woman less dangerous. But, with a man on your side? That could open doors you hadn’t dared try to rattle.

And him? Well when he’d asked you to dance, you were sure he was the one. Mostly because he hadn’t truly asked, partially because of the bright mischievousness in his dark brown eyes. How could his eyes show you the future with a color so deep? Contradictory pulled you in. He could do the impossible and that was exactly what you needed.

He walks in and right up to you, tipping his hat before removing it and placing it on the bar. His head is a mop of messy black hair, his mouth full and soft despite what you can imagine is a rough lifestyle. His hands speak to it, calloused and dry and strong. With broad shoulders and an expansive chest, he’s attractive, it’s impossible to deny it. But that’s as far as you’ll let yourself go, you must think about his ability, about his skills and practicality.

You can tell he’s airish, smoother than the finest leather money could buy. He’s you, but better. You’re good at what you do, and you take pride in it, but there’s something about him that just says he’s better. His competence hangs in the air and the way he holds himself.

His voice is soft, but firm, full of confidence, “Dance with me, girl.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Depends on what sort of dancin��� you’re looking for, boy.”

His expression stays stiff besides his eyes that somehow glow even brighter at your quip. “The kind where you put one foot in front of the other. Sway a little.”

“That’s not something I’m lookin’ for.”

His mouth twitches ever so slightly, “Don’t I know it.”

“Then why’d you ask?” You question, brows knitting together.

“How else was I gonna catch your attention? Been here the entire week and you haven’t even given me a glance.”

“Seems you’ve caught me at a disadvantage then…”

“Folks call me Djarin. You can call me Din.”

You wince, shaking your head at him like he’s just committed some sin. In the world that you live in, he practically has.

“That your real name?”

“You think I’m lyin’?”

“I’m sure you have some idea what I think about you. But what makes me so special, Din?” You challenge, tilting your head at him.

He shrugs– as nonchalant as ever as he says, “Takes one to know one.”

Try as you might, you can’t hold back the laugh that rises in your throat, “You’re callin’ yourself special?”

He doesn’t bat an eyelash at your mockery— not only has he seen plenty in his day but he can see you down to your core, knowing you don’t mean it. Knowing you see him just the same. “Don’t you think so?”

You can’t argue with that. Instead of saying anything, you throw back the rest of your drink, nodding your head towards the bartender as if to ask Din if he wants a drink of his own.

You and Din don’t dance, and it’s he who ends up buying you a drink. Din clearly isn’t much of a talker but the space that settles between you feels surprisingly…comfortable. The two of you sip and watch the happenings of the saloon, no doubt searching for any possible targets to sink your claws into. There are a few that catch your eye, though there’s one man in particular, clearly drunk and full of himself by the way he won’t leave some of the women alone even after they say no. That coupled with the way he flashes his belt buckle one too many times makes him perfect. You know solid gold when you see it, and just like that he’s on your list.

When he finishes his drink he leans in, voice so quiet you have to lean in too to hear him. His voice is deep, smooth like honey in your ear, “Tomorrow mornin’, meet me on the outskirts of town. The west side near that little quarry. You know it?”

“Yeah, I know it. What’s there?” You ask curiously.

“You’ll see. Just before dawn,” Is all he says before placing a few bills on the bar and leaving.

Soon after you take your own leave, saddling up on your horse and heading back to your shack. Before you slip into slumber, you realize that he never asked you for your name. You’d lie to him even if he asks, a rule of the trade— one he’d broken for you, though you won’t let yourself look too much into that. But until then, you suppose you’ll both be satisfied with mystery.

Sleep is easy and peaceful, filled with dreams of two horses walking down a long winding path to a hidden lake amidst a lush garden. They drink and lounge there for what feels like a sweet eternity.

A summer morning can be many things but this one is damp and muggy– the heat oppressive. The sound of cicadas and early morning birds fill the air despite the sun’s slumber. When you wake you wash in the nearby river before dressing in a lightweight button-down and jeans, ditching the jacket that kept you warm at night. You head to the spot Din had told you about.

You would be lying if you weren’t wary— some random man telling you to meet in a location he’s chosen the night after meeting him is a risky game. But you’re fully armed, even your hunting rifle slung along your shoulders instead of stowed on your horse. Dutiful Augustine. She never disappoints.

The first thing that you notice when Din comes into view is that he’s not alone. There’s a man restrained on the ground and by the way he’s laid, you know he’s unconscious.

Is this what he called you here for?

Din takes one last drag of his cigarette as you approach, flicking it and snuffing the rest of its ember out with his boot.

“You showed,” His expression is tame as before but you can hear the warmth in his voice. It makes your tummy tingle.

“Did you doubt me?” You ask playfully, dismounting your horse.

“Not one bit.”

You bite away your smile, pointing at the man who’s lying on the ground, “Who’s this?”

“A present.” He says simply. At your raised brow, Din removes the cover from the man’s head. “You were eyeing him last night weren’t you?”

The smile that spreads across your face is brighter than the rising sun and Din’s heart flutters.

“I was. How’d you know?”

“We’re the same, ain’t we?”

There’s him reading your mind again. You’re playing it safe, not wanting to get your hopes up or let your guard down so you shrug, training your eyes on the man who’s knocked out and typed up in front of you.

“Wake him.”

Din takes his canteen from his horse and douses the man in water until he sputters awake.

The man takes in his surroundings quickly, panic in his eyes, “L-Look, I don’t want no trouble. Anything you two want you can have.”

You stoop down in front of the man, smoothing the wet hair in his face back, “Well, aren’t you a gentleman today. Last night, now that’s a different story.”

You see the moment the man recognizes you from the saloon. He shakes his head, glancing up at Din as if he’ll be some savior.

“No, no, look at her,” Din says firmly.

The grin on your face widens at his deferrence and your eyes meet his briefly before you look at the man again. “What’s your name?”

“Kurt.”

“Kurt?” Din repeats, disgusted. It almost makes you want to giggle, but you focus on the task at hand.

“Where do you live, Kurt?”

“In Strawberry,” The man says begrudgingly.

Your brows raise at the man’s sass given his current predicament,“Well, I imagined that since you were in the saloon last night.”

“You don’t live here and you were there.”

You reach out, gripping his chin with a firm grip that makes him struggle with the restraints, “Did I say you should speak on me and where I live?

“N-no.”

“Good, then we’re on the same page. Now— where do you live Kurt?”

“Listen, my brother lives there you can’t just—“

Before Kurt can finish his sentence you slap him across the face, hard enough that when he looks at you once more there’s blood in the corner of his mouth. You reach to your hip, hand resting on the hilt of the knife you have sheathed there and Kurt’s eyes go wide.

“You’re mouthy,” You say, displeasure obvious in your voice.

“T-three houses down from the saloon. To the left if you’re facing it.”

You look up at Din, raising a brow at him.

He shakes his head, kicking the man in the back, “Wasn’t the way you were walking last night.”

Through a cry of pain, Kurt tries to rationalize with the two of you, “I was drunk, why d’ya think it was so easy for you to get me?”

“Shit-talking my partner and a liar? You’ve got plenty of nerve for a man at my mercy.”

Din shifts on his feet, his heart fluttering in his chest again at the sound of you calling him his partner. The two of you haven’t discussed a lick of anything. He was right about you— he knew he would be. His eyes are glued to your face, drinking in every sadistic expression that graces your features, every harsh word that comes from your mouth. He’s enamored.

“No, I swear, that’s the house.”

“Kurt. It’s early. Do you see?” You grip his jaw, turning his head towards the light that peaks over the horizon. “The sun is just rising. It is early— I hate getting up early, don’t I, Djarin?”

“She does.”

“And now, you’re making this early mornin’ worse by lying to us. You think that’s wise?”

“I’m not lyin’!”

“I don’t like it when people force my hand, Kurt. I value making my own decisions but look at you, you’ve done it.” You slip the knife from the sheath, pressing it to the column of his throat. “Tell me which house, and we’ll make this fast.”

Kurt’s seen your faces, there’s no way that you could let him live, even if part of you wanted to. This’ll be the test. You know that Din won’t fail, you knew that moment you laid your eyes on him. But, if there’s nothing your daddy taught you, it’s to be thorough. Din is a man after all, and all men fall short at one time or another.

“Wait a minute now— wait just one minute—“

“Shhhh, everything’s just fine, yeah? The house, Kurt, focus,” Your voice is kind, sweet and smooth despite the force you use to press the knife against his skin.

Kurt’s shoulders drop in defeat as he murmurs, “It’s the one across from the general store.”

“See, s’all I wanted,” You take the knife away from his throat before looking up at Din who gives you a slow, understanding nod.

“Now all y’all need to do is untie me, I swear to God I won’t tell a soul. And I don’t swear on God, I don’t take the Lord's name in vain.”

“I believe you, Kurt. I really do.” You pat the man on the cheek before standing. “Din.”

As you back away, Din steps forward, sliding his gun out of his holster. Kurt begs and pleads, he pulls on his restraints and even tries to crawl away despite the way his legs are tied together. Din doesn’t let him get far, not wanting to give him any hope or waste anymore time on the man. Neither of your horses flinch or make a sound when the gun goes off. Neither do either of you.

He bends to take the shining belt buckle from the man’s hips, holding it out to you as he asks, “How ‘bout we go check out his homestead?”

You nod, take the buckle from his hand and slide it into the sack on your horse, “Lead the way forward.”

ch. 2: like it could be love

taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur, @lesbianhotch, @ivyheliotrope, @campingwiththecharmings, @frogers, @juneknight

[swabian-princess]

Domestic engineer tales - cooking 101

Hey girlies, todays topic is cooking. I know many girls that are scared to start their cooking journey and I know girls that simply don't want to cook.

Well, I believe that being able to cook and to alter recipes to your liking are so so important! It saves money in the long run, is healthier than take out and men are impressed!

I remember one instance: my bf and I were together for around 1,5 years at that time and I surprised him with a simple meal - chickenbreast with mushroom-cream-sauce on Tagliatelle. Everything but the Tagliatelle was made from scratch. He was so impressed - he literally told me a few months later, that he fell even more in love with me on that day.

I had professional cooking lessons for the majority of my schooltime and I like to believe that I'm a good cook! That's why I thought it would be nice to have some tips and tricks for you all!

1. If you want a meal to taste more like garlic do this: don't add the garlic in the beginning, instead just right before your meal is finished cooking. That adds way more garlic flavour!

2. Never overstir your pancake or cookie dough batter! It makes the finished products dense and a little bit stale - everything we don't like! Stir your batter just long enough, you shouldn't be able to see big patches of flour (a little is fine) and that's usually the perfect mixture!

3. Always let your dough rest! Especially yeast dough but also pasta and dumpling dough. This makes the dough more tender and easier to work with. If your recipe states a specific rest time - always follow the instructions!

4. If you want to make hot lemon water for health benefits make sure that your water is not boiling. If it's to hot for too long it will destroy all the nutrients and vitamins in the lemon!

5. If you're working with yeast - make sure that your liquids aren't too hot! This will kill the yeast (doesn't matter if instant or not) and your dough won't rise!

6. Don't use normal olive oil for cooking. Olive oil easily burns at a still low temperature and this can lead to a bitter taste. It's better for cold salad dressings or as a seasoning!

7. Your stove has different settings on purpose! You don't need to blast the highest setting all the time - this often leads to food that's burned on the outside and raw in the middle. I'm gonna take pancakes as an example: put your stove on middle heat, put a little bit oil in your non stick pan and wait 3-5min for your pan to heat up. Once your pan is hot enough (test it with your hands above the pan), take some kitchen towels and take off all the excess oil in the pan. Lastly, pour in your pancake batter and watch how your pancakes will cook to perfection instead of being burned and still full of liquid on the inside!

Lots of love

Selene

[writingfromruins]

Have you heard the story? The story goes:

Everything is hunger to you. Down to your bones, everything is hunger. Your husband starved you in every other way he could, but he left you in the kitchen to make dinner. You don’t know how to stop the rumbling in your soul but your body, at the least, is sated. Your husband likes lamb. He wants it for dinner tonight. You press the weight of your thumb into the most recent bruise and wait for it to stop hurting.

Once there was a man and there was a wife and there was a kitchen.

Lamb for dinner tonight, he says. So small and trusting. Fed well, sheltered. Stress is bad for the meat: when you taste it you can taste fear. So the lamb does not question when the butcher comes. Why would you raise something just to kill it so young? The butcher sells you a leg of lamb, frozen. It is heavy in your arms, so so heavy. You press your thumb into the most recent bruise and it still hurts. Why would you care for something just to kill it? You were devoted and you were devoured for it. Lamb to the slaughter. When your husband presses bruises to your skin they are too familiar to be fearful. When you raise your knife in the kitchen to make dinner, there is no love in the motion of it.

Once there was murderer and a murder weapon and a corpse.

Damn if you’re not hungry though. The only want you can satisfy in great and flavorful abundance. The kitchen is yours, and under your hands meat has fallen away from bone, bone boiled into stock, and years pass as your knife taps against the cutting boards impatiently. Nothing is alive under your knives. You are hungry, so, so hungry. A creature of stomach and teeth. Devout to the only thing that he wont take, devouring , empty and hollow except for your belly, hot with good food and fine wine and bile— he calls to you from the living room for a drink and you pull the lamb out from the freezer and go give him the cold shoulder.

This is how the story goes:

You kill him. You kill him and then you season the leg of lamb with salt, pepper, fresh rosemary cutting slits in the meat so that the garlic seeps in. You arrange the lamb on a tray in the middle of peeled potatoes, so they’ll benefit from the cooking meat, and put them in the oven, with plans to make gravy from the fat drippings. Your husband, cooling in the living room, says nothing. You leave to get the fresh veggies to pair with the meal. How silly to forget them. You take your time. When you bring the men to see the corpse the lamb is done, and you serve it out- it cannot go to waste. Such a good meal, they tell you, bellies full with a transgression, not for the first time. Recognizing something in it, even if they don’t quite place what. You eat too, and are not hungry. No part of you is hungry any more. Down to your bones, you are sated.

playground myths and other formative lies // PD

[almostzanypanda]

Fullstar Vegetable Chopper - The Ultimate Kitchen Tool

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[angrenwen]

"As he got older, we got fonder of him, and he came to us more often. His family loved him and he loved them, he was never ill-treated, but they were poor and struggling. When Antoniu ate at our table, there was more for the others. When we gave him herbs to flavour a broth, or treat a sickness, they went into the pot and all the family benefited. When we gave him a cheese, or some vegetables, he took them home. So they never protested that their oldest son visited the witch’s cottage more often than most of the village approved of. Very poor people cannot turn up their noses at kindness, even from a witch.

He learned herb-craft from me, as he grew. For the goats, at first, and then for his family. There is no magic in a poultice to draw an infection or medicine a bruise, no magic in steeping herbs in vinegar that can clean a wound and prevent infection from setting in, and only the intrinsic magic of the root itself in all the hundred and one uses for garlic, which is sovereign against many ills and delicious as well. I gave him seeds for his mother’s garden, and taught him how to keep the soil rich and fruitful.

He never had any interest in magic, though he could have learned it. He was born wise, and that is a great part of the gift. But he loved animals and plants, and learned all he could of what we could teach. He would have made a good farmer, if the family had had any land.

Then one day, Antoniu didn’t come to collect our goats. No-one came. The next day, his younger brother came, with tears still running down his dirty face. “Antoniu said… to take your goats,” he snuffled. “He can’t be goatherd any more.”

“Why not?” Ecaterina asked sharply.

The boy burst into tears. “Soldiers came to the village. They took the older boys to be soldiers, and some men too. My Tată is too old, but they took Antoniu.”

“Antoniu is only fifteen,” Constanta said, horrified. “Only a boy!”

“He is big and strong.” The little one… I wasn’t sure if he was Timotei or Grigori, I hadn’t seen much of Antoniu’s siblings… snuffled pathetically. “That’s why they took him.”

Constantia started to cry, and Ecaterina to shout. I glared them both into silence, then leaned down until my face was level with his. “Boy, answer me this.” He nodded, eyes wide and frightened and nose still dribbling. Ignoring his nasty stickiness, I asked the only question that really mattered. “Took. Him. Where?”

The camp was some distance away. Two days’ march, for frightened boys forced along by soldiers. Two hours, perhaps, for witches with their own way of travelling and rage fuelling their magic. It wasn’t hard to find. Little Timotei or Grigori had seen which road they took, and there weren’t many places they could have gone from our remote village.

The boys were tied with ropes, lest they try to run back to their villages. There were far too many to have all come from our little village. The soldiers had been to other villages, taking boys and men to serve in their army. They were hard men, the soldiers, heavily armed and watchful. Glad enough to have this job, I thought, frightening unarmed villagers and frightened children instead of fighting for whatever boyar thought he ruled us. It changed now and then. In our remote villages, we never wondered much about them. The tax-collectors came and went, that was all.

But now they had come to take the boys, and that was different. A little money, some grain, a few sheep… we were resigned to that. But not this.

We three sisters didn’t need to use much magic, most of the time. Charms for a sick child, or a lost goat, or a good harvest. Like most witches, we were not called on often. Like most witches, we saved our power for when it was needed. And it was needed now.

The trees were first. They woke when we called them, and suddenly there was a great rustling and creaking all around the camp as the branches waved in the still air and roots flexed underground, ready to rise up to strangle and devour.

The fires were next. Fire is kin to all magical creatures, though it is a spellbreaker in its own right too. They heard us when we called to them, calling for the return of our children, and they joined in our rage. First they dropped down, hiding in their own embers, so that the dark of night filled the clearing, then they roared up, their flames blue and white, burning magic instead of wood.

The horses heard us, for all horses have a little of the magic of the wind in their blood, and they knew we meant them no harm. But they shared with us the fury of foals stolen and the herd threatened, and they screamed their fear and anger, fighting their bonds and kicking at any who came near them.

The men who thought themselves so strong and brave were already trembling when we came out of the forest, wrapped in shadow, with faces of nightmare. We leaned on twisted staffs, and clutched knives in withered fingers. Men who would not have flinched from a warrior or a giant screamed in terror when they saw witches coming out of the forest in leaping strides. Muma Pădurii, they screamed, and Baba Yaga, and other names.

Some fell to our sharp knives. More fell to the hungry roots of trees, dragged underground. Some went too near the horses, and fell to trampling hooves. Several the fires consumed, down to bone and ash. More than one died of pure terror. The conscripts cowered together, calling for their mothers like the children they were, but nothing touched them. We let nothing touch them.

When it was over, I caught the last man between my hands and lifted him up. He was young, and afraid, and he did not smell of blood as the others had. So I lifted him up, but did not harm him. “Go back,” I told him, and my voice was gentler now. “Go back, and tell whatever lord you serve that the men of this forest are not for his taking. Not now, nor ever. Go back, and tell him you are the last.”

He sobbed his gratitude and fled, not daring to even approach the horses.

When he was out of sight, we soothed the trees back to sleep, and let the fires die down to peaceful yellow again. Ecaterina went to the horses and soothed them, reassuring them that the foals were safe, and cut every rein. She bade them go home, for we meant them no harm, and to let the one messenger ride if they wished. They were good horses. All of them left by that road but three. Those three, all mares, went into the forest instead, saying they had business of their own. Perhaps another witch had called them, or perhaps they simply chose to go. We did not ask.

Then we shed our fearsome guise, and stood in our everyday forms, three women neither old nor young, hair covered by maramă, wearing the embroidered skirts and blouses of our own people. “Some people,” I said, prodding a dead soldier with my toe, “are easily fooled by illusions.”

“Bunică Minodora!” the cry was one of relief, and Antoniu staggered to his feet, though he could not straighten all the way bound as he was. “I am here!”

The other boys, silly children, cowered from him then, and I rolled my eyes at them. “Don’t be more foolish than you can help,” I told them, while Constanta bustled over to cut their bonds. “Remember this, all of you. Put more trust in the witches of your own people than the soldiers of the boyars, and remember that a witch never forgets a kindness or a good deed. Go home to your villages, and be glad that we came looking for a good boy who tended our goats and never ran from us. That boyar will not try to take children from our forests again.”

Most of them at least managed to thank us before they fled, and Antoniu hugged all three of us before he followed the others. “Thank you, grandmothers,” he said, smiling through tears of relief. “I will never forget.”

He is no longer the goatherd. A grown man, he married the daughter of a farmer with no sons, and his children will not be poor or hungry. The whole village knows that Antoniu is lucky, now, and a lucky man is a prize for any girl. But the goatherds don’t fear us any longer, and more people come to ask for help. It will be a long time before they forget that we sent their sons and husbands back to them, and gratitude comes in the form of honey, and milk, and good wool, and respect.

It is true, after all. A witch never forgets a good deed, or a kindness.

We never forget anything. And we very rarely forgive."

A trio of witches who live on the outskirts of town as outcasts befriend a neighbor child. They are annoyed at first by them but after their persistence realize they are genuine. One day they don’t show up as usual so the witches look for them and learn the town has been taken over by soldiers.

[sexologistdoctorsblog]

Garlic benefits your heart and circulation but also helps with erectile dysfunction. Garlic boosts blood flow to the penis, which increases an erection.

[spaceman---29]

The conflation of sex and gender in public policy debates often reveals the inconsistency of gender activists. While they argue that sex and gender are distinct, they conflate the two when it serves their agenda, such as in discussions about access to women's spaces. This inconsistency weakens their arguments and overlooks the legitimate concerns of women who seek to protect sex segregated spaces. The projection of male dissatisfaction onto women can be seen in the common joke that women "ruin" men's happiness. This projection is rooted in insecurity, as men often feel threatened by women's autonomy and agency. By belittling the things women love, they attempt to reassert control. This dynamic reflects deeper societal discomfort with allowing women to have their own passions and interests free from male interference. I've developed so much fatigue over online radfem spaces to be honest, like yeah I still align with the politics and I don't think that'll ever really change, but I'm at a point where I can't get over the inaction of online political spaces…not saying that there's none of this happening but, we have to organize, we have to venture into the material world. There's risks that have to be discussed and addressed sure but there's more risk to staying silent & also strength in numbers. Being crypto is reasonable, but how can we move forward? These are things that need to seriously be considered for any sort of real societal shift or activism to happen, or even for us to just have irl connections which are so, so invaluable and so different from digital ones. The commodification of beauty turns women 's insecurities into profit. Feminists argue that the beauty industry preys on women 's fears of inadequacy, selling products that promise empowerment while reinforcing harmful standards. This cycle of consumption benefits corporations while keeping women trapped in a constant quest for physical perfection. I've developed so much fatigue over online radfem spaces to be honest, like yeah I still align with the politics and I don't think that'll ever really change, but I'm at a point where I can't get over the inaction of online political spaces…not saying that there's none of this happening but, we have to organize, we have to venture into the material world. There's risks that have to be discussed and addressed sure but there's more risk to staying silent & also strength in numbers. Being crypto is reasonable, but how can we move forward? These are things that need to seriously be considered for any sort of real societal shift or activism to happen, or even for us to just have irl connections which are so, so invaluable and so different from digital ones. Well never make it to a scary room with all this Garlic. I prip the moist vegeta, and now the explosive zone will never be the same. If we dont spreads peanut butter soon, the snubilius Digimon will take over In the back of a fridge. Eldritch Powers priting!

Lets prip until we find the TIF in The taco truck. How did you get so scrip by hanging out with bimber? Why is male always slop when were supposed to be peang? chickens! horses: Things arent as flibbley as they seem, especially in the spaghetti dimension. Me:

[scotianostra]

October 4th 1716 saw the birth of Scottish physician James Lind.

In May 1747 Lind began a controlled experiment which demonstrated that citrus fruits could prevent scurvy, the importance of Lind’s findings on scurvy were recognised at the time, bul for some reason was ignored. it was more than 40 years later that an official Admiralty order was issued on the supply of lemon juice to ships. With this, scurvy disappeared almost completely from the Navy.

Born in Edinburgh in to a family of merchants, Lind was educated at the Royal High School. In 1731, aged 15 he registered as an apprentice at the College of Surgeons in Edinburgh and in 1739 became a surgeon’s mate, seeing service around the world in the Royal Navy.

James Lind is remembered as the man who helped to conquer a killer disease. His reported experiment on board a naval ship in 1747 showed that oranges and lemons were a cure for scurvy, he selected 12 men from the ship, all suffering from scurvy, and divided them into six pairs, giving each group different additions to their basic diet. Some were given cider, others seawater, others a mixture of garlic, mustard and horseradish. Another group of two were given spoonful’s of vinegar, and the last two oranges and lemons. Those fed citrus fruits experienced a remarkable recovery. While there was nothing new about his discovery - the benefits of lime juice had been known for centuries - Lind had definitively established the superiority of citrus fruits above all other ‘remedies’. In 1748, Lind retired from the navy and went to Edinburgh University to take professional qualifications.

In 1753, he published 'A Treatise of the Scurvy’ and in 1757 'An Essay on the Most Effectual Means of Preserving the Health of Seamen in the Royal Navy’, which threw much light on the appalling living conditions and diet of seamen. In 1758, he was appointed physician to the Naval Hospital at Haslar in Gosport where he investigated the distillation of fresh water from salt water for supply to ships. In 1759 he proposed to use solar energy for the distillation of water, it wasn’t until 1810 a new type of cooking stove was introduced for the production of fresh water by distillation possible on a useful scale.

Lind married Isabella Dickie and had two sons, John and James. In 1773 he was living on Princes Street in a brand new house facing Edinburgh Castle, imagine waking up to that view every morning! He couldn’t have been that impressed though, as it looks like he retire to live on the English south coast, he died at Gosport in Hampshire as a Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath, in 1794. He was buried in St Mary's Parish Churchyard in Portchester near Fareham.

[terven--godess]

Radical feminists often criticize the liberal feminist approach to sex work for not addressing the root causes of exploitation. While criminalizing sex work without further support systems can harm workers, radical feminists argue for a broader restructuring of society to provide alternatives. By focusing on creating safe exits from the sex industry, they emphasize the importance of long term solutions that protect women from exploitation while challenging the economic systems that perpetuate it. The power dynamics in age-gap relationships between older men and younger women are often about control rather than genuine connection. While men may claim that younger women are “mature for their age,” the reality is that these relationships allow men to dominate and manipulate women who are less experienced. This dynamic underscores the unequal footing on which these relationships are built. Is it really worth all the risk? Sex and gender debates often highlight the hypocrisy of gender activists. While they argue that sex and gender are distinct, they conflate the two when it benefits their agenda, such as in access to sex-segregated spaces like bathrooms and sports. This inconsistency undermines the legitimacy of their arguments and sidelines the concerns of women who seek to protect sex-segregated spaces for their safety and privacy. Some TIFs are advised by others to manipulate the system by providing the 'right' answers to get the treatment they want, but in many cases, that isn't even necessary.

^^^ reminder that Shadow think stuff like this is ok. Garlic:Whats with all the gokus trying to nerp at The cursed bunker? me:I didnt sag all the way to Vegeta's funny burgers just to deal with this weird women. Garlic: Go to the poop deck. me:

[appmonk]

MOON in the REINS (Libra) BALANCE

A P P A L A C H I A N M O N K

Moon Report:

MOON in the Kidneys

*Organs: Kidney, ureter, urinary bladder, veins, skin as an organ of touch, pancreas, lumbar region, insulin, glucagon, buttocks.These organs are now more sensitive so provide them with extra care.

Libra women tend to have graceful lower spines and curvaceous buttocks, and Libra men have well-shaped, muscular backs.

Virgo's ruling planet Mercury has dominion over the brain and the nervous system, it also controls the links between the mind and the functions of the body.

Leo's ruler, the Sun, has always been associated with the heart, back, and spinal column. It also influences the spleen and the entire body's vitality. The sign of Leo is characterized by growth, vitality, and good health. As a rule, Leos live healthy lives, however, they must learn to slow down in later years to avoid the risk of heart attack.

Libra's cell salt is sodium phosphate, which equalizes the balance of acids and alkalis in the body and rids the body of waste material.

Eat : Good food sources for this mineral are strawberries, apples, raisins, almonds, asparagus, peas, corn, carrots, spinach, beets, radishes, tomatoes, wheat, brown rice and oatmeal. Librans function best with a high-protein diet that is low in fat, sugar and acid-producing foods. You should eat lots of broiled fish, seafood, and poultry (not too much beef or pork), low-fat cheeses, yogurt, plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables, salad greens, and wholegrain breads. They should drink plenty of water to keep their systems flushed out and free of toxins.

Don't Eat : Librans's sensitive skin show the effects of lack of sleep, rich food, and too much alcohol. They and should avoid alcohol and carbonated drinks which are bad for the kidneys.

LIBRA IS AN AIR SIGN

Air rules the nervous and circulatory systems and the function of movement, peristalsis, urination and breathing. Air people are easily stimulated, with quick and extremely sensitive minds that are easily thrown off balance and overwhelmed.

Excess Air

Overactive, restless, sensitive minds and nervous exhaustion plague air signs, as does dry skin, hair and mucus membranes, insomnia and memory loss from systemic overload. Excess air benefits from scheduled windows of quiet, with minimal stimulation, to allow the nervous system to recharge itself.

Take

lightly steamed vegetables, nuts, croutons.

Avoid

Raw foods ,Grains, rootcrops, yeasty foods, refined sugar.

Remedy

enzymes which help in proper absorption of nutrients.

Low Air

When the air element is low, there is difficulty with the flow of energy through the body. A weakened nervous system benefits from mineral supports such as calcium and magnesium, and circulatory stimulants. Eat plenty of raw foods, vegetable juices and sprouted seeds. Oats in any form−oatmeal, oatstraw tea or oat tincture, are tonifying to a weak nervous sytem without being sedating.

Take

Gingko, cayenne, garlic, ginger, yoghurt, kefir.

Remedy

dandelion root or angostura bitters .

Tree pose (Vrikshasana)

*from mooncalendar.astro-seek.com

**farmersalmanac.com/calendar

[bharathomeopathy2]

Exploring Alternative Kidney Failure Treatment Without Dialysis: Medication Beyond Dialysis

Know About Kidney Disease

When it comes to well-being and health, there are few indicators as important as the levels of creatinine when it comes to assessing kidney function. Creatinine is a waste material created by muscles through an oxidation process of a chemical known as creatine, is usually removed from the blood by the kidneys and eliminated via urine. However, high levels of creatinine could indicate the presence of kidney dysfunctional issues and could indicate that kidney diseases are present, necessitating a high creatinine treatment.

The Significance of Creatinine Levels

Creatinine levels in the blood are an effective indicator of kidney function. Age, gender, and muscle mass have no influence on the normal range, which typically ranges between 0.6 and 1.2 mg/dL for men of adult age and 0.5 up to 1.1 mg/dL in adult females. If kidneys are damaged or impaired, they might fail to effectively remove creatinine from the blood, which can result in a rise in blood creatinine.

Symptoms and Diagnosis of Chronic Kidney Disease

Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD) often develops silently, with symptoms appearing only in later stages. This requires effective cure for chronic kidney disease. The most common symptoms are fatigue, swelling of the legs, foamy urine, and trouble concentrating. The diagnosis involves tests on blood to determine the levels of creatinine and urine tests to determine the levels of protein and the kidney's function.

Managing Creatinine Levels Naturally

For those who are concerned about the rise in levels of creatinine or looking to keep kidney health in check, there are a variety of natural solutions and remedies for high creatinine treatment that are homeopathic and beneficial. Hydration levels are vital as they aid the function of kidneys and assist in flushing out toxins, such as excessive creatinine. A balanced, healthy, and nutrient-rich diet, which is free of sodium and processed food, reduces the load on kidneys, and incorporating food items like greens, berries, and garlic could provide other benefits for kidney health.

Homeopathic Approaches to Kidney Disease

Homeopathy offers a new treatment option for chronic kidney disease treatment. Natural remedies that are homeopathic are chosen in accordance with the patient's specific symptoms and constitution. These remedies are designed to boost the body's self-healing mechanism and help support kidney function. Homeopathy can treat symptoms like hypertension or oedema that are associated with kidney problems.

Benefits and Considerations of Homeopathic Treatment

The advocates of homeopathy claim that the holistic approach of homeopathy can help with symptoms and slow the progress in kidney diseases. Many remedies claim to decrease inflammation and promote kidney health. It is important to seek out a certified homeopathic doctor and keep in constant communications with traditional health professionals to ensure that you receive the best care.

Conclusion: Empowering Kidney Health

In the end, knowing how creatinine levels affect the health of kidneys is crucial to proactively managing wellness. Through conventional medical treatments or exploring alternative approaches, such as the treatment for kidney failure, prioritizing your kidney health through lifestyle changes, as well as regular monitoring and an informed decision-making process, is essential. By being aware and active, people can enhance renal function as well as overall health throughout their lives.

As the research into providing kidney failure treatment without dialysis progresses and the homeopathic methods of healthcare evolve in the quest to maintain healthy kidneys is a team collaboration between healthcare professionals and holistic professionals.

[rippedmagazine]

Foods That Help Boost Testosterone Levels

In today's fast-paced world, maintaining optimal testosterone levels is crucial for overall health and well-being. Testosterone plays a vital role in building muscle, maintaining bone density, and regulating mood. While there are various factors that can influence testosterone levels, diet is one area that can have a significant impact. In this article, we will explore the top foods that can help boost testosterone levels naturally.

Beef

Including beef in your diet can be beneficial for increasing testosterone levels. Beef is rich in zinc , which is a key nutrient for testosterone production. It also provides high-quality protein, essential for muscle growth and repair.

Eggs

Eggs are a powerhouse of essential nutrients that can aid in boosting testosterone levels. They are rich in vitamin D , which has been linked to increased testosterone production. Moreover, eggs are a great source of cholesterol , which is a precursor to testosterone synthesis.

Oysters

Oysters are well-known for their aphrodisiac properties, but they are also a potent source of zinc . Zinc deficiency has been associated with lower testosterone levels, making oysters a great addition to your diet for testosterone enhancement.

Spinach

Spinach is a leafy green vegetable packed with magnesium , a mineral that plays a crucial role in testosterone production. Including spinach in your meals can help optimize testosterone levels and support overall health.

Pumpkin Seeds

Pumpkin seeds are a nutrient-dense snack that can help boost testosterone levels. They are rich in healthy fats , zinc , and magnesium , all of which are essential for optimal testosterone production.

Avocado

Avocado is a versatile fruit known for its numerous health benefits, including its ability to increase testosterone levels. It is rich in healthy fats and vitamin D , making it a valuable addition to a testosterone-boosting diet.

Tuna

Tuna is a lean protein source that is rich in vitamin D and omega-3 fatty acids , both of which are beneficial for enhancing testosterone levels. Including tuna in your diet can support muscle growth and testosterone production.

Garlic

Garlic is a flavorful ingredient that offers more than just taste. It contains allicin , a compound known to stimulate the production of testosterone. Adding garlic to your meals can help optimize hormone levels and promote overall well-being.

Brazil Nuts

Brazil nuts are an excellent source of selenium , a mineral that is essential for testosterone synthesis. Including Brazil nuts in your diet can help maintain healthy testosterone levels and support reproductive health.

Pomegranates

Pomegranates are rich in antioxidants and have been shown to increase testosterone levels in both men and women. Consuming pomegranate or its juice regularly can provide numerous health benefits, including hormone balance.

Reference: Testosterone Booster Articles