#workouts for 50 year old woman

[bizarre-blorbo-bracket]

FINAL for real this time: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics

Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:

Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)

a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:

He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.

Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming

Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.

His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."

I could honestly give him a lil smooch

He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied

He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki

instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched

I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile

Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)

I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.

I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction

My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.

After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that

I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop

I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded

I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet

I have visions of him

One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise

honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him

I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)

He's literally an architect

I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas

i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present

my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN

I've attempted slam poetry about him

I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand

I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that

the Bimodal Distribution

First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy

#bimodal distribution #davis #juror 8 #12 angry men #final

[ovaruling]

i found this very interesting, especially as a woman who has cheated death several times, came away from it disabled, and is now fiercely determined to live independently into old age, child-free (in this case, the relevance of that being the context of having no children to assist me with care or basic function as i age).

however, this is also important for all women, because being able to carry fitness (and by fitness i refer to the ability to complete everyday tasks and basic mobility without extreme difficulty or injury) into old age is a topic that affects us as a sex with some growing urgency.

statistically, we know (or should, by now) that women cannot depend on male partners/family members to care for us in times of illness or crisis, and that also goes for caring for us as we age. they leave. they shirk. they hope we’ll just die and relieve them of the burden of caring for us.

and even if male partners are not a factor, aging women ARE seen as a burden–to our families, to our friends, to our loved ones, to our doctors, to our governments, to our societies. having children or a partner or family members or friends does not necessarily guarantee that they will assist you in your old age.

so it is of utmost importance that we as women educate ourselves on how to stay as physically independent as possible as we age. here is an excerpt of the article that describes why i think this is so important:

"Think of the Centenarian Decathlon as the 10 most important physical tasks you will want to be able to do for the rest of your life. Some items on the list resemble actual athletic events, while some are closer to activities of daily living, and still others might reflect your own personal interests. I find it useful because it helps us visualize, with great precision, exactly what kind of fitness we need to build and maintain as we get older. It creates a template for our training.

I start by presenting my patients with a long list of physical tasks that might include some of the following:

1. Hike 1.5 miles on a hilly trail. 2. Get up off the floor under your own power, using a maximum of one arm for support. 3. Pick up a young child from the floor. 4. Carry two 5-pound bags of groceries for five blocks. 5. Lift a 20-pound suitcase into the overhead compartment of a plane. 6. Balance on one leg for 30 seconds, eyes open. (Bonus points: eyes closed, 15 seconds.) 7. Have sex. 8. Climb four flights of stairs in three minutes. 9. Open a jar. 10. Do 30 consecutive jump-rope skips.

The full list is much longer, with more than 50 different items, but you get the idea. Once they’ve read it, I ask them to please select which of these tasks they want to be able to perform in their ninth, or better yet 10th, decade. Which ones do they choose?

All of them, typically. They want to be able to hike a mile and a half, or carry their own groceries, or pick up a great-grandchild, or get up if they fall down. Or play 18 holes of golf, or open a jar, or fly somewhere on a plane. Of course they do.

That’s great, I say. You’ll make that kid’s day when you pick her up like that. But now let’s do a little math. Let’s say the kid weighs 25 or 30 pounds. That’s basically the same as doing a squat while holding a 30-pound dumbbell in front of you (i.e., a goblet squat). Can you do that now, at age 40? Most likely. But now let’s look into the future. Over the next 30 or 40 years, your muscle strength will decline by about 8 to 17 percent per decade—accelerating as time goes on. So if you want to pick up that 30-pound grandkid or great-grandkid when you’re 80, you’re going to have to be able to lift 50 to 55 pounds now. Without hurting yourself. Can you do that?

I press the issue. You also want to be able to hike on a hilly trail? To do that comfortably requires a VO2 max of roughly 30 ml/kg/min. Let’s take a look at the results of your latest VO2 max test—and guess what, you only scored a 30. You’re average for your age, but I’m afraid that’s not good enough, because your VO2 max is also going to decline. So you can pull it off now, but you likely won’t be able to do it when you’re older.

On it goes. To lift a 20-pound suitcase overhead when you are older means lifting 40 or 50 pounds now. To be able to climb four flights of stairs in your 80s means you should be able to pretty much sprint up those same stairs today. In every case, you need to be doing much more now, to armor yourself against the natural and precipitous decline in strength and aerobic capacity that you will undergo as you age.

Eventually, my patients get it. Together, we come up with a list of 10 or 15 events in their personal Centenarian Decathlon, representing their goals for their later decades. This then determines how they should be training. In the end, most people’s Centenarian Decathlons will probably overlap to a degree. Someone who enjoys stand-up paddleboarding, for example, would perhaps choose “events” focused around building core and cross-body strength. But she will likely be training the same muscle groups as I am doing for archery, and maintaining a similar degree of stamina and balance.

The Centenarian Decathlon is ambitious, no question. A 90-year-old who is even able to board a plane under her own power, let alone hoist a carry-on bag, is doing extremely well. But there is a method to the madness. These individual tasks are not out of reach. There are octogenarians, nonagenarians, and even centenarians right now who are running marathons, racing bicycles, lifting weights, flying airplanes, jumping out of airplanes, skiing the Rocky Mountains, competing in actual decathlons, and doing all sorts of other amazing things. So all these events are within the realm of possibility."

#tumblr formatting made this IMPOSSIBLE for some reason so bear with me #save

[thewillofdeez]

50/50: A Shanks/OC (and Beckman/OC) Romance - Chapter 5: Strength and Love

Summary: A twenty year journey of friendship, love, and heartache between Shanks and the woman he loves.

Chapter 5 word count: 6746 (another long one, sorry!)

Notes: Enter: baby Luffy! And some romance (finally).

The last part of this chapter required me to learn the names of different parts of a sailing ship. So in order to make it easier for you to visualize, I made a diagram which you can find here.

Enjoy! The story will be in Foosha Village for 1-2 more chapters.

I also finally got a job after 9 months of unemployment, and so am going to do my damndest to get this and my other WIPs done or close to it before I start!

The celebration of Shanks and Riley’s reconciliation went on well into the night, but Riley excused herself from the party around eleven o’clock - she had to be up early tomorrow, after all. She was grateful when Shanks snuck into her room less than an hour later and wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss on her shoulder and falling asleep behind her in a matter of minutes.

At the party, she and Shanks had been back to their old selves, affectionate, laughing, and once again comfortable in each other’s presence. Shanks and Snake had let her know that they’d be looking for a nearby island to settle down in while she trained, somewhere quiet and out of the way where they could dock for about a year. He felt she’d have better resources at her disposal on land, and it would allow the crew to focus on training her with less interference from Marines or other pirates. Here in the East Blue, the calmest of the seas, they’d find something in no time.  Riley had expressed concern about how the rest of the crew would feel about being on land for so long. “Don’t worry about it,” Shanks had said with a sly grin “I’ll tell them to think of it as an extended vacation for everyone except you.”

The next morning, Riley rose from her bed, careful not to disturb Shanks who grunted and rolled over when she removed herself from his grasp. Energy was coursing through her body. She was finally going to get what she wanted. She was finally going to be stronger, a fighter. Maybe not on the same level as some of the guys who had been doing it for years, but that’s not something she cared about. She cared that she was getting to do it at all. 

Riley dressed and readied herself for the morning, donning comfortable, workout-friendly clothes, then made her way to the mess hall. Beckman was already there, as were Lucky and some of the kitchen crew. Beckman placed a plate overflowing with bacon, eggs, and sausage in front of her, the single piece of toast on the side almost looking out of place. Riley’s eyes widened - he wanted her to eat all of this? What?

“If you wanna get stronger, you need more fuel for your body. You eat like a bird.”

“Actually, birds eat quite a lot. Ya know, so they can fly,” she responded with a smirk.

“Then you eat like something that doesn’t eat a lot. Chow down, get some protein in you.”

Over breakfast, Beckman filled Riley in on what his plan for her would be over the next four months. When she was full to bursting with meat and eggs, Beckman took pity and helped her finish the last few slices of bacon. They then made their way to the upper deck to begin Riley’s training.

They began with stretching, then moved onto conditioning exercises. Beckman would tell her what they were going to do, demonstrate good form, and give her a number of reps to work on, noting where her body strength was good and where it needed work as he got an idea of what her baseline capabilities were. Her legs were decently strong, and her core wasn’t bad. Improving her upper body strength was going to take a hell of a lot of work, though, he mused as he watched her struggle to get a quarter of the way into a pull-up.

By the time most of the crew was making their way onto the deck to begin their duties for the day, the two had finished up their workout.

“So,” Beckman asked, “How do you feel?”

“I feel great, actually!” Riley responded, the endorphin rush making her feel light and energized.

Beckman chuckled and lit up a cigarette. “Give it time. You’re gonna be in the most pain you’ve ever felt in your life tomorrow morning. I’ll give you the day off to let your body rest, then we’ll resume the day after.”

“What?!” Riley objected, “But we just got started! I don’t want to take a day off already.”

“Trust me, you’re gonna need it.”

And Beckman was right. The next morning, Riley awoke and tried to make her way out of bed - key word being tried. Every muscle in her body was sore and stiff and required incredible effort to move. Just getting dressed was an ordeal.

Riley slowly made her way to the mess hall, where Shanks, Beckman, and the senior officers were gathered around their usual table. She braced her hands against the edge of the table and slowly lowered herself into a seat next to Shanks, her face grimacing at the burn in her thighs. The surrounding men couldn’t help but laugh.

“So glad you guys find my anguish amusing,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Awww Rye, we’re not laughing at your pain!” said Yasopp.

“I am!” said Shanks. Riley swatted him swiftly, then winced at the movement.

“It’ll get better, Riley. Promise,” Beckman said, pushing a plate in her direction. More meat and eggs, and that lonely piece of toast, the sole carb amidst a mountain of protein.

“By the way, we think we’ve found a good place to dock for a while,” said Snake, unfurling a map before Riley. “We’re approaching Dawn Island, home of the Goa Kingdom. There’s a small village on the outskirts of the city. It’s quiet and out of the way, and hopefully the people there won’t give us any trouble. We should be there by this evening.”

Riley examined the map, noting the small windmill drawings surrounding Foosha Village on the southeast side of the island.

“Sounds perfect,” she said. After breakfast, she slowly lifted herself from her seat, wincing in pain. “I’m going to go take a very long, very hot bath.”

That evening, just as predicted, the crew arrived on Dawn Island. Standing on the deck as the crew worked around her to furl the sails, Riley noticed the townspeople stopping to stare at their imposing ship, by far the largest at the docks. Some people ushered their children into their houses, while others closed and locked their shutters. She figured they probably didn’t get a ton of pirates around here, and couldn’t blame them for being scared.

The crew stepped off the ship and walked through the town, led by Shanks, Beckman, and Riley, seeking out a place for dinner and drinks. Riley was still in pain, and desperately craved a beer. 

As it always was with the Red Hair Pirates, landing on a new island was cause for celebration. So was leaving the island, and just about any day in between where they could find an excuse to do so. Shanks, at Riley’s insistence, had instituted a rule several years before after she’d had one too many instances of being unable to sleep off her own hangover because everyone else was also hungover and wanted her to help them: no partying without a cause for celebration. Unfortunately for Riley, Shanks accepted just about anything as a cause for celebration, and he exploited this loophole constantly. He’d made it up to her by instructing the crew to get their own water and painkillers from the med bay if Riley was also too hungover to assist.

Finding a small pub called Party’s Bar, the crew filed in. The green-haired woman behind the bar had a shocked look on her face - whether it was because there were now 60 people crowding into the small building or because they were pirates, she wasn’t sure. 

Riley approached the bar with a smile. “Don’t worry,” she said, “We’re not here to cause trouble, just have some food and a few drinks, and I promise we’re paying customers. Are you able to accommodate so many?”

The barkeeper was taken aback for a second, then nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course! Please, make yourselves comfortable.” If what the female pirate said was true, she was set to make more money in a single night than she had in ages. She ran to the kitchen and ordered the whole crew to come out, distribute menus, and begin pouring drinks. She was grateful for the timing of the shipment of rum and beer they’d just received that day, and made a note to put in another order tomorrow.

The barkeeper introduced herself as Makino. Riley, Shanks, and Beckman introduced themselves and the rest of the officers as the drinks began to flow and the smell of cooking food permeated the bar. Makino was surprised that these pirates, as opposed to others who had visited her bar, or, more commonly, some of the fouler bands of mountain bandits, were actually quite kind and fun, if a bit rowdy. She found their red-haired captain to be particularly charming, and blushed as he flirted with her.

As dinner died down and the drinking began in earnest, Riley found herself deep in conversation with Makino. She always pounced on any opportunity to talk to another woman.

“So it’s just you and 59 men?” Makino had asked, amazed.

“Yup,” Riley replied, taking a sip of her beer. “We’ve yet to find any other women who want to join, but I’m still holding out hope.”

“She tolerates us,” Beckman said with a smile.

“Honestly, they’re not a bad group of guys,” Riley said, wrapping an arm affectionately around Beckman’s waist. His arm rested around her shoulders in return. “I’ve met much worse men who aren’t pirates. I mean, sure, they’re loud and gross and –”

“Devastatingly handsome,” Shanks cut in, bringing his face close to Riley’s with a smolder. “Sexy. Muscular. Well-end–” Riley placed her hand on his face and pushed him away.

“Most of them aren’t bad,” she continued. “This guy, however, needs to be kept on a leash. And perhaps a muzzle.”

Makino giggled and poured them another round.

“Stop it, old man, let me GO!” The crew turned towards the commotion as a small child burst into the bar, an older man in tow. “I wanna see the pirates!”

The small boy with a mop of thick, black hair ran towards the bar.

“Luffy, get out of here!” Makino admonished. “You can’t be in here so much past your bedtime!”

Shanks laughed and lowered himself to his knees, closer to the boy’s level.

“Hey there, kiddo. What’s your name?”

“Luffy,” the child responded, a finger up his nose.

“Nice to meet ya, Luffy. I’m Shanks, and this is my crew, the Red Hair Pirates. Say hi to the kid, boys!”

“Hi, Luffy!” the crew responded in unison, raising their mugs.

Luffy burst into a fit of giggles. The older man who had been pursuing the boy stormed in and grabbed him by the arm. “Luffy, if your grandfather knew you were in a bar with pirates at six years old he’d have my head! Come on, let’s go!” He then turned to Shanks. “And as for you, I don’t take too kindly to pirates in my village, but I also won’t turn you away as long as you don’t cause any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it, sir," Shanks responded in his most diplomatic voice, "We’re not here to cause trouble, just to take a nice long rest. I promise, you’ll barely notice we’re here.”

The older man, who they later learned was Woop Slap, the village’s mayor, narrowed his eyes at Shanks but accepted his response. He turned and dragged Luffy from the bar.

“Bye Shanks! Bye Red Hair Pirates!” the boy cried. “See ya tomorrow!”

The crew laughed and waved as they left.

“He’s a sweet kid,” Makino said. 

“No parents, I take it?” asked Beckman.

“Not to my knowledge,” she replied. “He does have a grandfather who’s a Vice Admiral with the Navy. He’s not around a lot so we all sort of take care of Luffy as a community. If he bothers you, just let me know.”

Shanks only laughed in response.

Over the next months, the crew grew quite comfortable in the small village. Riley was approaching the end of her four months of training with Beckman, Luffy became a common presence among the crew (much to the mayor’s dismay), and the Red Hair Pirates were a normal sight at the bar and around town. True to Shanks’s word, they didn’t cause any trouble, and the townspeople began growing used to their presence. They did have a way of endearing themselves to others, Riley found herself musing one day as she watched a few crew members help a family in town fix a broken window. Luffy swore he had nothing to do with it.

At Party’s Bar one evening, Riley sat at a table with Bonk, Snake, and Limejuice, but found her eyes wandering towards the bar. Shanks was flirting with Makino, who was loving his attention and returning it in kind. She knew they’d become something of an item over the last few weeks - how could she not, her bedroom was right next to Shanks’s and the man had never been known for being a quiet lover. They did appear to be keeping the relationship somewhat quiet, however, and she wasn’t sure if it was for Makino’s sake or Shanks’s. He’d never been one to hide his lovers or help them sneak quietly off the ship, so either he was trying to protect the barkeeper’s reputation or there was something different about this relationship. Riley wasn’t sure which, but she was grateful for the nights he stayed at Makino’s, for no other reason than she enjoyed her sleep, and it made keeping her own secret a little easier. 

Shanks had always been a flirt and was constantly the center of female attention. She’d seen him leave bars with dozens of women in their time together, but this one seemed different somehow. Perhaps it was the increasingly long-term nature of their situation, or it could be something else.

Of course, Riley had had a number of situationships of her own over the years. The life of a pirate wasn’t built to be relationship-friendly, and so they all needed to enjoy what they could when they got it, and there was no judgment amongst the crew over whatever that was. Riley allowed her mind to wander, remembering some of those men from over the years.

First, there had been the swordsman friend of Shanks’s, Mihawk, back in the early days of the crew. She had found the golden-eyed man to be irresistibly charming, despite his otherwise cold exterior, and he’d found himself quite taken with her in turn. It became the closest thing to a loving, serious relationship Riley had ever had - Mihawk had only intended to hitch a ride with the Red Hair Pirates until they reached his destination, but what should have been a few weeks wound up being the better part of a year, with much of the man’s time being spent either clashing steel with Shanks or in Riley’s bed. Eventually, though, they’d had to part ways. Mihawk wasn’t interested in joining Shanks’s crew (though Shanks had tried to convince him more than once), and Riley wasn’t interested in leaving the crew to travel with Mihawk. The split was painful for the both of them, but it was amicable, and when their paths occasionally crossed over the years, they’d still have some fun together.

Then there was Marco, the captain of Whitebeard’s first division and the crew’s doctor. Whenever the Red Hair Pirates and the Whitebeard Pirates met, Riley never knew what she was going to get. Whitebeard and Gold Roger had been bitter rivals, but also held immense respect for each other. Shanks’s relationship with the enormous man was much the same - though they often steered clear of each other’s path, occasionally situations would bring them together. Sometimes it was tense, and Shanks received his now-signature three scars over his left eye from Marshall Teach on one particularly rough occasion. (Incidentally, Yasopp had thought his captain’s new scars were so cool that he had immediately re-designed the crew’s jolly roger.) But sometimes it wasn’t and the two crews were able to intermingle peacefully.

Riley had always enjoyed her occasional interactions with Marco - she didn’t get to meet other doctors very often, and so jumped at the opportunity to trade stories and knowledge with one whenever she could, even if they were technically an enemy. Marco was intelligent and funny, and she could talk to him for hours when given the chance. One night aboard the Moby Dick as the two crews mingled, Riley and Marco had sat together talking animatedly over their shared interest in medicine and exchanging stories of their crews. As the night grew later and their bodies inched closer together, Marco eventually captured her lips in a kiss, which Riley returned with enthusiasm.

“My room?” he’d said, to which Riley nodded, a sly grin on her face. As Marco grabbed her by the hand and led her into the ship, she could hear Whitebeard’s thunderous laugh.

Then there was Beckman. She had never intended to start anything with Beckman, it had just sort of happened. The two had always been close, and the time they spent training together every day brought them even closer. Perhaps there was something about the way he’d touch her gently, correcting her form, or how proud he looked of her when she pushed herself to her limits. When she’d successfully completed her first pull-up, he’d brought her a beer to chug in celebration, then promptly made her do nine more.

Riley knew Beckman had been thrilled with her progress so far, and could see it in the way he looked at her. But it wasn’t just pride, there was something else there, too. And one day on the beach as he held her feet down and coached her through a set of sit-ups, he couldn’t help but kiss her as she brought her body up towards her knees. Riley had been quite shocked at first, but quickly returned the kiss, looping her arms behind his neck and dragging him back down with her, his body over top of hers.

And that was how it began. With Makino keeping Shanks occupied and their location seemingly safe, he hadn’t been joining her to sleep as much. Instead, Beckman had taken his place in her room, or her in his as the case sometimes was. It was just sex, at least at this point, and the two didn’t feel the need to announce it to the crew, so they kept it quiet. But they also felt a little guilty about their secret, especially when it came to Shanks.

On the other side of the bar, as his crewmates chatted boisterously, Beckman found himself musing over much the same kind of thing Riley was. He watched her with a smile on his face as she laughed at a stupid joke Bonk had made. He really, really liked seeing her laugh. Beckman was sort of terrified of the way he was beginning to feel about her. He’d been with a lot of women, but never like this.

The issue was Shanks. Not that he thought the captain would have a problem with his second in command and doctor being in a relationship on principle, but there was an unspoken question. Or, more accurately, a question Beckman had tried to broach with Shanks before but had been shot down: he still wasn’t sure where Shanks stood on having feelings for Riley. He knew his captain well enough to know that it was probably more than platonic, but all Shanks had ever done was avoid or deny it. And now that Beckman found himself developing feelings for Riley, he wasn’t sure what to do with that. And Shanks was spending quite a lot of time with Makino, so did he even still harbor feelings for Riley at all, or had he moved on? It was getting complicated, and he desperately wanted to figure it out, if only Shanks would just be fucking honest with him.

Deciding to step outside for a cigarette, Beckman caught Riley’s eye and nodded in the direction of the door. She understood and excused herself from the table, grabbing her drink and following him onto the porch. The night was warm and still, and the lights in the houses along the street began slowly switching off as the residents of Foosha Village turned in for the night.

Riley leaned over the railing, drink in her hand, and Beckman settled in next to her, his lighter illuminating his face for just a moment.

“You think we should tell Shanks about us, don’t you?” Riley said.

Beckman nodded. “I do. I don’t like keeping secrets, even if they’re harmless. He’s our best friend, and our captain, and he should know if two of his senior officers are…doing what we’re doing. But I also think we need to figure out what us is first.”

Riley knew he was right. They knew they were friends. They knew the sex was amazing. But they also knew that there was something much, much more there. “What do you want us to be?”

Beckman exhaled smoke into the air, then turned to look at her. “Long-term, I don’t know. But I do know you’re more to me than a friend at this point. A lot more.”

Riley couldn’t stop the grin that split her face. “I feel the same, Beck.”

Beckman smiled and grabbed her hand, bringing it up to plant a gentle kiss on it. “Don’t think this means I’m gonna go easy on you in training” he said with a mischievous grin. “If anything, I’m just gonna push you harder.”

Riley laughed. “I’d expect nothing less. Let me close out our tabs and we’ll get out of here?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. And hey, do you mind if I’m the one to talk to Shanks? I got a few other things to bring up to him as well.”

“Not at all. Tomorrow?”

Beckman nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Riley disappeared into the bar and returned a few minutes later. She grabbed Beckman’s hand, and the two walked back to the ship, together.

The next morning Beckman found Shanks drinking his coffee on the upper deck and went to join him. Much of the crew wasn’t up yet, and he’d decided to give Riley the day off from training as he’d kept her up awfully late the night before. “‘Morning, cap.”

“Beck,” Shanks acknowledged with a smile.

For a moment the two stood in silence, the sun creeping over the horizon. “Shanks, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Is it about you and Riley?” Shanks replied with a knowing grin. Beckman was taken aback. Shanks laughed. “Come on, man, your rooms are right next to mine. You really think I didn’t know?”

Beckman blushed a little. “We’ve…been trying to keep quiet. I’ve got the bite marks on my shoulder as proof.”

“Nahh, it’s not about noise,” Shanks assured him. “I can hear sometimes, sure, but mostly I’ve just seen you sneaking in and out of each other’s rooms.”

“I’m sorry, Shanks. We didn’t want to keep it from you any more. We both felt bad about it honestly, and thought you needed to know, especially now that it’s becoming….something else.”

“You’re in love with her,” Shanks said softly.

Beckman sighed, a smile crossing his features. “Yeah, I am. And I think she loves me too.”

Shanks patted his friend affectionately on the back. “I’m happy for you, man. And for Riley. Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

“So you’re okay with it? I mean, from a captain’s perspective?”

“Of course!” Shanks said, almost offended at the implication. “Beck, I trust you both more than anyone else in the world. I know you’d never do anything to jeopardize your positions on this crew and your relationship with each other as friends and crewmates. And yeah, you technically have authority over her, which has the potential to get dicey, but I’m here to help with that if it ever becomes an issue. And look, if it works out, great. If it doesn’t, I know you’ll both handle it appropriately and things would eventually go back to normal. That’s not a concern for me at all.”

Beckman remained silent as relief washed over him. Shanks knew. He was okay with it. Hell, he was downright supportive. Now for the hard part.

“Shanks, I’m gonna ask you something and I need you to answer me honestly this time. Not just as your second in command but as your friend. Okay?” Shanks nodded. He knew what was coming. “Do you have feelings for Riley?”

Shanks let out a sigh. The time for denying and avoiding was over. “It’s complicated, Beck. The simple answer is yes. To some extent, at least. I won’t deny that the feelings I have for her are more than just friendship.”

“Then I’m gonna call it off with her,” Beckman said decisively. “I love her, but if you have feelings for her too I’m not gonna do anything that will cause problems between us.”

“Beck, no, just….just listen,” Shanks replied quickly. “The complex answer is that I would never act on those feelings. I know she doesn’t feel the same, and even if she did I’m her captain. We couldn’t be anything, and I have no intention of ever pursuing her. At least, not unless I knew she wanted me to. Which she doesn’t and probably never will.”

“And Makino?”

Shanks huffed out a laugh. “I like her. A lot, actually. I wouldn’t say it’s love for either of us, but it’s been…really, really nice. She and I both agree that this is a temporary thing, and we’re enjoying our time together while it lasts. Honestly, I think having her around has really helped with the whole ‘unrequited feelings’ thing. She knows that too.”

“And what about after? When we leave here for good? Do you think it’ll be a problem?”

“Nah. I’ve been silently pining over Riley for like a year now. It’s just a state of being at this point, and I’ll get over it in time. I want her to be happy and I want you to be happy. If you’re happy together, then I’m happy for you.” Shanks looked a little sad, but Beckman knew he was being honest.

Beckman sighed. That was about the answer he expected. He couldn’t deny he felt a little weird, being with the woman his best friend also harbored feelings for, even if Shanks claimed to be okay with it. But Beckman trusted Shanks at his word, and knew Shanks would never jeopardize their friendship.

“Got it. Thank you, Shanks.” He clapped the younger man on the shoulder, then turned and walked away.

“Hey,” Shanks said, grabbing his attention. Beckman turned. “You take care of her, okay? Make her happy.”

Beckman smiled. “I will.”

Just a few months later, Riley was about ready to finish the first phase of her training, getting stronger with her now-open boyfriend Beckman. The crew had taken the news of their relationship well, and she was thrilled to not be sneaking around anymore.

Of course, Beckman couldn’t consider her training complete without testing her. He took the role of her trainer seriously, and before he could allow her to move onto hand-to-hand combat, he had to make sure she was not only strong enough, but was able to use the skills he had taught her. Their training hadn’t just been about physical strength, though that was certainly a key component. But it also involved balance, agility, and being able to think quickly on her feet. He’d designed her training keeping in mind the numerous unlikely physical dangers he’d found himself in over his years of piracy: being chased by wild animals, dodging arrows, climbing rock cliffs, and so on. In order to make sure she was adequately prepared, he’d tried to factor in a variety of challenges without having to actually shoot at her with arrows. 

The best way to do that, he figured, was to make her use her skills in facing one of her biggest fears: heights. Beckman knew Riley had always been terrified of heights, but the fact was that being comfortable in high places would one day come in handy for her, if not be outright necessary for her survival. So he came up with a plan.

On the last morning of this phase of her training, Beckman brought Riley onto the upper deck. She was surprised that not only was the whole crew there, but a number of people from town had gathered on the docks below. Luffy had a place of honor with Shanks on the captain’s chair. Whatever was going on, she was sure it was a big deal.

“You ready?” Beckman asked.

“I think so?” Riley replied, looking around. “What’s going on?”

“It’s your final test.”

Riley grinned. “You didn’t tell me there would be a test. I didn’t even study.”

Beckman leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Not that kind of test. It’s a test of your strength and skill.”

“All right then. What are we doing?”

Beckman looked up, and Riley followed his gaze. “We’re gonna climb it.”

Riley did a double take. “You mean the ship?”

“Yup,” he said with a grin. “First we’ll take the rope net up the main mast. Once we reach the middle crow’s nest you’ll have to climb the rest of the way with just your body strength and a belt for support. Then from the upper crow’s nest, you’re going to jump to the yard of the top mizzen sail. You’ll climb halfway down the ropes, jump onto the lateen, and run up the rig.”

“And then?” she asked, her voice shaky. “How do we get down?”

Beckman only grinned. “You’ll see. Ready?”

“Beck, I don’t–”

“Hey,” he cut her off, placing a comforting hand on her face. “Trust me. I’d never let anything bad happen to you, and I wouldn’t have you do this if I didn’t think you could handle it. I’ll be with you the whole time. Okay?”

Riley smiled and leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

“Then let’s get started. You wanna go first, or should I?”

“I’ll start, at least for now.” Riley brought herself to the rope netting leading up the main mast. This part she could do. She’d been on them before. Never all the way up, sure, but this part she could do.

She took a deep breath and began the climb. A series of whoops and cheers broke out from the crowd below, and echoes of “You can do it, Riley!” Riley smiled and took the first step onto the rope net. One hand up and one foot up, then the other side. She kept her eyes on the crow’s nest above her, and before she knew it, she had reached the platform. That wasn’t so bad, she thought. A few minutes later, Beckman joined her.

“Good job, darlin',” he said, bending down to give her a kiss.

“Can I get one of those after every part?” Riley said with a grin.

“If it’ll help,” Beckman replied. “But you gotta earn it. Here,” he handed her a wide leather strap, with the ends wrapped in string for a better grip. “We’ve done this on trees before. Get the strap around the mast, high as you can go. Jump and get your legs around the mast as much as possible, using your legs to put pressure on it. Get yourself steady, move the strap up, and repeat. It’s about twenty-five or thirty feet to the top.”

Twenty-five or thirty feet from where she was, meaning it was about sixty feet from the top of the mast to the deck. She’d possibly survive that fall if she needed to, if she didn’t break her spine on the crow’s nest on the way down. Bracing the strap around the mast, she began the climb. Move the strap up, pull her body up, wrap her legs, and repeat. She found that as long as she kept looking up, she was fine, though she couldn’t deny she was aware of the ever-increasing height. The wind was stronger up here than it was on the deck, and it whipped through her hair, which she really wished she had thought to pull back.

She didn’t know how long it took, but she made it. Riley took the opportunity to look out over the sea before her, as well as at the town below, seeing dozens of people on the ground as well as the pirates on deck cheering. She couldn’t deny their support felt good. Looking out to sea, she saw that it was really quite lovely from up here. She allowed herself to enjoy the view as she waited for Beckman, not wanting to think about the next obstacle.

Beckman’s head poked up through the bottom of the crow’s nest a minute later. She offered him a hand and helped him up, and he took the opportunity to pull her into a kiss. “Two down, three to go,” he said.

“Three? The jump, running up the lateen….then what?”

Beckman only smiled. “Do you want me to go first?”

Riley looked out towards the mizzen mast, then brought her gaze to the deck below. It was a long drop.

"Yeah," she said, her voice small with fear. "Please."

Beckman grabbed one of the ropes for support and stepped up onto the edge of the crow's nest. "Remember when we did this up in the mountains over that crevasse? Bring all of your weight into your feet and bend your knees, then release it into your upper body and jump, stretching your legs wide. Just focus on me, okay?" Beckman then did exactly that, leaping widely and landing in a crouching position on the sail's yard. He moved to the side towards the crow’s nest to allow her room to land. Riley had remembered that crevasse, all right. It was barely three-quarters the length of what Beckman was asking her to do now.

Riley gripped the rope and took a shaky step up, balancing herself on the edge of the crow's nest. In attempting to look at her feet's positioning, she looked down. Below her she saw Shanks with a soft smile on his face, and Luffy perched on his lap, neither of them seeming particularly concerned about her falling on them. "YOU GOT THIS, RILEY!" Luffy called up to her. I got this.

Riley bent her knees and forced all of her energy into her legs. She met Beckman's eyes on the other side. Focus on him, she thought. Springing up from the crow's nest, she leapt, legs spread wide. It couldn't have possibly taken more than a few seconds, but for Riley the time she spent in mid-air with no support to speak of and the deck so far below her felt like forever. But it was getting closer. She saw Beckman. She saw the yard. She was going to make it.

The goal was so close, and her stomach dropped as she realized her feet were dipping below the top of the sail. Reaching out an arm, she managed to grasp the yard with one hand. She felt her body collide with the furled sail as her fingers gripped the rounded wooden support with every ounce of energy she had. It was probably fortunate that she was too scared to notice the crowd's gasp.

Beckman walked towards her, balancing so easily on the narrow purchase it was almost annoying.

"Beck, help me up," she said, trying to extend her other arm towards him.

Beckman, the man who supposedly loved her, crossed his arms. "Nope. You can do it."

Riley's fingers were slowly slipping, the sweat on them causing her to lose friction.

"Beckman, I'm not fucking kidding, please, help me!"

He crouched down to be closer to her. "Riley. Remember what I said. There's nothing I'm asking you to do that I'm not confident you can handle. Trust yourself." He pushed a loose chunk of hair behind her ear, then rose and walked back towards the crow’s nest.

Trust myself. Okay. Step one, get a better grip. The furled sail pressed against her, but she could use its folds and ropes for support. She brought a leg up into the folds of the sail, then boosted her body up, allowing her to grab onto the support and loop her arms and legs around it, like a right side up sloth.

Okay. I did it. Now to stand up. Riley slowly brought herself to all fours, carefully placing her hands and knees on the narrow beam. She slowly rose to a kneeling position, then standing. The wind was strong, and she instinctively bent her knees for stability, bringing her body weight into her legs. The crowd below let out its biggest cheer yet. She looked up to see Beckman beaming at her, his hand extended. She walked towards him and he brought her in for a kiss.

"Great job, baby. I knew you could do it," he said with a smile.

"I'm probably going to be very, very angry at you later," she replied, her heart pounding in her chest.

Beckman chuckled. "I'll take that risk. Come on, we're almost done."

He guided her around the crow’s nest and together they descended the rope net about two-thirds down the mast until the lateen was a short leap away.

"I'll go first," he said, "Remember, you need to run. Knees bent, feet facing slightly outward. Back straight, don't look at your feet so much that you lean forward." With one more quick kiss, he leapt from the ropes and onto the support, then made his way leisurely up the rig. When he reached the far end, he stopped and turned towards her, waiting.

Compared to what she just did, this would be easy. Riley turned so her back was to the ropes, then made the leap onto the beam. Both feet landed and she swayed back and forth for a moment, catching her balance. The crowd on the ship and in the town was going wild at this point. Looking towards land, it seemed almost the whole town had turned out for the show. She could even see Makino and Woop Slap in the crowd, cheering her on. She allowed the cheers of encouragement to wash over her. This was it. She was going to make it. 

Getting her feet and knees into position, Riley began to run up the steep angle of the rig. She reached Beckman in a matter of seconds, and he brought her close, lifting her off the beam and kissing her passionately.

"That wasn't so bad, huh?" he said.

"Compared to jumping onto the mizzen sail and almost dying? Easy."

Beckman chuckled. "We're almost done. Ready?"

She still wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be ready for, but at this point it didn’t really matter, did it? "Ready."

Beckman released her from his grip, then turned away and walked to the edge of the rig. When he leapt into the water below, she had to laugh.

Riley brought herself to the edge. It had to be at least seventy-five feet to the water. If she landed wrong, it could easily kill or paralyze her. She watched as Beckman swam out of the way, and she found herself remembering when they first met, his body soaked and with a half-dead Shanks in one arm. What a long way they'd come. Six years ago, she never would have thought this would be where they were, not in her wildest dreams.

She'd come this far. She couldn't back out now. Riley shut her eyes tightly and held her nose shut with two fingers…then she leapt, pointing her toes to break the water's surface pressure. The cold water shocked her as her body submerged deeper and deeper, before releasing its hold and allowing her to swim to the top. Breaking the surface, she pushed her wet hair out of her face with both hands and looked around for Beckman. He swam up to her and brought her in for a long, wet kiss.

"I love you, Riley," he said. "I'm so proud of you."

Riley laughed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"I love you too, Beck."

Previous - Chapter 4: Rescue and Reconciliation

Next - Coming soon

#akagami no shanks x reader #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks x reader #red haired shanks #red hair pirates #red hair shanks #benn beckman #benn beckman x reader #one piece fanfiction

[pilvimarja]

More random notes about the Top Gun novelisation!

At the O Club Charlie is described as someone who looks like a "college student", but KMG was almost 30 and she definitely looked like a hot older woman next to Cruise's baby face, not a 20-year-old college girl. Her being older than Mav and holding the reins was something I liked!

And Goose has a date at the bar! A woman called Mary Anne. Excuse me, mister, but you're married!

This little moment of Maverick getting dressed is so informative! And I love how he compares a G-suit to Scarlett O'Hara's corsets 😏

According to Maverick, pilots apparently lose consciousness for a few seconds when they take off from the flight deck of an aircraft carrier! Being catapulted into the air causes the G force to drain the blood from the brain.

Okay, but look at this description from 20-something Maverick of what it feels like to fly a fighter jet and then picture 50-something Maverick flying the way he does 💀

It's apparently a requirement for the pilots to hit the gym after every flight and do a little workout 💪 This obviously means that we as a fandom NEED MORE SWEATY GYM FICS!!!! And here we have a totally heterosexual workout competition between Mav and Ice 💦💦💦

#top gun #icemav

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It's Winter!!! I was going through writer's block until this story popped into my head. I hope everyone enjoys it. (Mature Subject Matter).

Her Thoughts

She weakly pulled him up to her chest, smiling at his glistening lips as she tried to catch her breath from the powerful orgasm she had just experienced, courtesy of her boyfriend's skillful tongue and fingers. 

“Now, it’s your turn,” she licked her lips, ready to reciprocate. “Lay on your back.”  

“Let’s just go to bed,” Emmanuel replied, kissing her softly on the mouth. “It’s getting late.” 

Let’s just go to bed. 

She lay awake at 1 AM replaying his words in her head, realizing she needed to get up and walk around if she had any chance of falling asleep. After sliding into her pink slippers, she quietly walked to the bathroom and closed the door. Flicking on the obtrusive light and blinking a few times to adjust her tired eyes to the yellow glow, Brigitte examined herself closely in the mirror, pulling at her skin and lifting her nightgown so she could get a better look at her stomach. It had carried her three children, but still remained toned thanks to her extensive workout routines and healthy diet. 

She was 47 years old, a far cry from his youthful age of 22. 

“I knew I’d find you in here,” Emmanuel sighed, relieved to locate her. “Our bed felt cold and empty without you.” 

His booming voice startled her and she jumped back, almost falling into his arms. She was not expecting him to get out of bed and look for her. The sight of his muscular body standing before her in just a pair of silk boxers rendered her speechless - but still heartbroken. 

“You’ve been in the bathroom for 10 minutes. Is everything alright?” He asked, placing his cold hands on her shoulders. Puzzled to catch her with her nightgown pulled up so high, he wondered what it could possibly mean. “Brigitte, you’re not ….” 

She shrugged her shoulders and broke free from his strong grasp. “No, I’m not pregnant. You know that’s impossible.” 

“Why were you looking at your stomach?” He asked, painfully aware she had flinched when he touched her. The conversation of pregnancy was always a sore topic for them, no matter how many times he told her, relentlessly, that he didn’t want children of his own, and that her children were his despite the fact they did not biologically belong to him. 

“It’s nothing. Just go back to bed.” She whispered. 

He wasn’t one to shy away from a conversation, usually becoming the most talkative person in the room when the topic on hand was one he loved and felt passionate about. And right now, he loved nothing (and no one) more than the beautiful woman standing 3 feet in front of him looking like she was ready to burst into tears. 

“I know something is bothering you. So, would you please tell me the truth so you can finally get some rest?”  Emmanuel pleaded, attempting again to touch her. This time she didn’t back away. 

She turned so he could get a closer look at her body, holding her nightgown in the same spot it had been when he walked in. “My stomach isn’t how it looked when I was your age. My breasts have lowered, my face is beginning to show my age and no amount of makeup can cover up the fact I’m almost 50. Everything is changing and it’s hard for me to accept it.” 

Brigitte spoke from the heart, mourning the youthful body she once had, deeply regretting that it had been wasted on her ex-husband. 

“Chérie, I’m not complaining. You should never feel insecure about your body. I happen to think you have the ….” 

She interrupted his sentence, not quite ready to let him speak yet. 

“Are you still attracted to me?” Brigitte closed her eyes, hoping the lack of eye contact would make his answer less soul-crushing. “Just tell me if you want someone else. Someone younger.” 

So there were absolutely no mixed signals, he pulled her into a warm embrace, placing a delicate kiss on her neck. “I’m very attracted to you, Chérie. Isn’t it obvious?” 

His erection against her stomach left no room for misinterpretation. 

“Are you bored of me? Am I not good enough in bed for you?” A single tear ran down her cheek. “Have you met someone new? A woman your age?” 

He stood in shock, wondering if she even knew what she was saying out loud. “Baby, tell me where these crazy thoughts are coming from. How could you possibly think I want someone else?” 

Brigitte took a deep breath. “Before we went to bed, right after you… you know… I offered to return the favour. You said - and I quote - let’s just go to bed.” 

He looked deep into her eyes, hoping to find the correct response in those deep blues, because right now he was at a loss for words. “It wasn’t about me tonight. Darling, every time I do something for you, I don’t expect you to return the favour. And it’s not a favour! I do it because I love you. I love making you squirm, I’m addicted to the way you taste, and I love knowing that I’m the only man who can make you scream, moan and convulse like that. Call me selfish or stupid, but seeing the pleasure I give you makes me feel like I’m finally worthy of your love. I wanted tonight to be about you and your needs. You satisfy me all the time, beyond my wildest fantasies. Your wicked tongue, the way your elegant fingers stroke my cock, your plump lips, your tight pussy, it’s all more than I deserve or ever thought I’d experience. I don’t do those things because I expect something in return. I do them out of love … and enjoyment.” 

She hung onto every word he said, trying her best to let it sink in. “So, you still want me?” 

“Of course, I do. Every single day, every time I see you, I need you. I have to fight the animalistic urge not to strip both of our outfits off every time we’re alone in a room together. Last night was something I wanted to do for you. Do not, for one second, think I don’t want you because, baby, I want you every second of every day.”

Hello Winter! ❤️

How your mind goes to "writer's block" to "hello smut" so fast is impressive 😂

Apart from the smut, it was also cute how Emmanuel dealt with that insecurity moment from Brigitte. He can give her amazing orgasms and still be a romantic sweet potato hahaha

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

#fanfic #winter

[1whitewitch1]

Tw ED discussion

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Around this time last year my eating disorder got a lot worse than it had been for a long time. I had been purging since I was about 14 on and off. But it had never gotten to the level that it got to. I was creeping on ED Tumblr every day. I also started creeping on ED Twitter and partially on TikTok, but there isn't much of a community on there thank God. My ex-boyfriend had cheated on me twice and I was at my wits end with my body. I was on birth control from 2020 until 2021. That made me gain a lot of weight and it made me really dislike myself. The pandemic also didn't help. I gained a lot of weight. Finding radical feminism has literally changed my life and I'm not even exaggerating. Since I've been living independently out of home I've lost weight due to being unable to afford food and starving and I've never even gotten close to the weight that I thought I cpuld achieve when I was active in my anorexia. Food still controls a lot of my thoughts but I can manage it a lot better now. All thanks to this community. My body is not the same as when I was 17 and 50 kilos and doing MDMA every weekend. My body is not the same as when I was a 10-year-old girl. I cannot realistically be a lower weight than I am without doing intense dieting, exercise and restriction. And I walk and stand for anywhere between 5-10 hours 4-6 days a week at work. So I'm getting the appropriate amount of walking exercise that an adult is supposed to get. I just don't go to the gym and don't stride to make gains or weight loss. I would absolutely love to try to bulk up and become a muscly person who is able to defend herself one day. I would really really like to do that, but for now I'm way too depressed LMAO.

I had to realise that I'm a woman now. I'm 21. I'm not a child anymore. I had to accept that my body wasn't going to magically get rid of its hips. It wasn't going to get rid of its stomach. It wasn't going to magically get rid of its thighs. I had to accept my body as it was and it was really hard to do and it still can be quite hard. But I recognise now that my body is a woman's body and I recognise now that all the women around me have women's bodies, adult human female bodies and they are beautiful and there is absolutely no reason for me to sit around. Wishing I could be fucking stick thin with absolutely no body fat. It is completely unrealistic for my body and the fact that I convinced myself and tried so hard for so long to be. That makes me feel embarrassed even though it isn't embarrassing, and many women suffer with eating disorders.

It breaks my heart how many women have to go through issues with eating disorders and it breaks my heart how many literal children were on ED spaces online. I saw 13-year-olds posting funny and relatable ED memes and I saw them posting their diets and their workouts for that week. It's now unfathomable to me that kids are in these spaces, specifically young girls. I never interacted with those accounts and I would block them right away, but the fact that they existed in the same space that I was in, was and is unnerving.

Anyway, this is all just a long way of saying that radical feminism has helped me accept my natural body. It has helped me learn to love my womanly body. It has helped me love my stomach, my thighs, my curves and it has more so helped me see them in a neutral light, which in my opinion is more important. I don't have to love my body. I don't even want to love my body. I just want to be at peace with myself in this world that is constantly trying to make us hate ourselves. And I think I'm getting there which is really fucking nice. Sorry if there are any spelling errors or gramma errors, I used to text to speech to write this, but I did try to correct everything.💞

#radblr #radfem #radical feminsim #radfemsafe #radfemvent

[accidentalajumma]

I bought a sports watch the other day. Today it gave me a suggested workout that involved running some 15 second sprints at 3.25 minutes/km pace. I never quite made it that fast - they were all around 3.30/3.35 pace Now, I am no sprinter. I am in pretty good shape (for a 50 year old woman) but my exercise is hiking and some very gentle trail running. I don't go for speed, I like distance more (though mostly I don't even go for real distance either, hah). But this offered a very tangible realization of just how fast elite distance runners go. A year ago Eliud Kipchoge ran a marathon in under two hours. That's 42km at a pace of 2.50 min/km. He ran 42km at a pace way faster than I could manage going as fast as I could for a mere 15 seconds!!

[moth-feeet]

lately i’ve been seeing lots of posts on here saying things like “how to be a better person”, or “how to be a classy woman” and while i think they have the right ideas at heart, they’re just being very obtuse with the words they choose.

to be a better person you don’t have to speak 7 languages, or only eat raw vegan, or even let everyone tell you their problems.

to be classy you don’t have to have perfectly flat, fly-away-free glossy hair.

the people i see saying these things aren’t thinking about actually being better;

to be good isn’t to be perfect, to be classy doesn’t mean you have to be a white woman with straight blonde hair.

what made me a much better person was realizing i wasn’t a good person.

most of the people giving this advice don’t realize it’s not going to change your life, it won’t make you smart or kind to wear the colors that match your skin tone best. though you might look great, that doesn’t solve the pain.

i think you all deserve some advice from someone with mental illness, who isn’t vegan, who isn’t perfectly tidy, or even popular.

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

i became a softer, kinder, person when i sat down and saw who i really was, a self centered, mean, sad, bully.

i am fortunate enough to has access to therapy, which absolutely helped me but i did a lot more growth on my own. i’m not gonna say journal, or do shadow work because that meant nothing to me at the time, not to say i don’t journal but whatever, what actually helped me was spending time outside.

i called it “outside time”, original i know, but genuinely everyday for months straight i would go out on the porch in the mornings (i started in winter and through spring - cooler months are best) and i would sit. alone. with nothing but my mind, a piece of paper and a pencil, and the sound of birds and the breeze. it became integral for my day, i had to do it or i didn’t have a good day. these moments were the times i wrote my best poems, or saw myself as who i truly was. i got back into reading and ate through book after book.

spending time outside with nothing but the universe and classical music playing gave me time to ask the universe some questions. i asked her how i got here, what i need to change, why she lead me to this realization, and i got my answer every time.

no, god didn’t come down and speak to me, the stars didn’t write it out, and no one actually said anything. the universe told me through memories, late night conversations with myself, and daydreams of better lives.

i picked up some things through this healing process that i think had a hand in my softening.

baking, cooking in general. though it started as a new year resolution, i learned it’s my love language. sharing my recipes and taking requests, it makes me feel wanted.

i started sleeping better, which was a breakthrough for me. i was prescribed a sleeping medication for chronic insomnia, and it’s helped a lot.

i started spending more time on self care.

now this is what i saw a lot of in the posts i was talking about. i saw lots of, “start a keto diet, start doing face masks, shower twice a week, always go on a run or workout!”

but that’s not what i mean. i started washing my makeup off at night, a revelation for someone with such awful depression at the time. i started brushing my teeth which certainly wasn’t a priority when i was rotting in bed everyday. i learned how to properly care for my curls. i even just left dr.pepper for tea. don’t get me wrong i have a dr.pepper sat next to me right now. i never cut it out i just laid off it.

one of the far more controversial aspects i changed was, not letting everybody dump their trials and tribulations onto me. i have always been very empathetic and therefore seen as a person to talk to about your troubles. and while i tried my best, i don’t have the advice a 50 year old woman in the middle of a divorce is looking for (and i was asked for it). i didn’t just let people tell me what they were going through. it seems cruel but it really helped me let go. i always described my mental health as those statues in dispicable me that slowly get crushed. and most of that came from listening to everyone’s thoughts and also carrying my own.

inevitably i had to stop. i had to let people know i wasn’t the person who could help them, and when i would listen my advice was, “i suggest you talk to someone better equipped for these issues”. i lead a lot of people to school counseling, or even social services at times. but i never forced them to take the steps to get better, because they were never my responsibility.

of course i wanted to help, sometimes i understood more than you could imagine, i never said it, because when someone reached out for help i chose to grab their hand and lead them to the real recuse team. because you and i are not trained therapists, we aren’t cps, we aren’t letting ourselves be crushed.

growing for me meant guiding people to the people who helped me. i wasn’t mentally prepared for someone to share a trauma or a struggle, i had and still have my own to work through.

.

all this is to say; no one grows the same way. maybe for some, reading classic literature changed their mentality in life, but i find books from the 1800s boring; and maybe some people feel classiest in all gold jewelry, maybe i don’t get it.

that’s just not what i think would save me. so, if you’re trying to carry yourself with more kindness, if you want to be the ‘it girl’, if you plan to be your best. before you jump to a new wardrobe or a drastic diet change, try spending time with your head. no stimulation, no music or books or anything. sit and color in a coloring book by an open window. ask the universe how you got here, and wait.

frighting with your head won’t get you where you dream to be, sometimes work has to stop for you to start again.

i really hope that the people who truly do want to change, find the right ways to.

with all my love, i am rooting for you.

love, K

#girlblogging #coquette #dark feminine aesthetic #girl interrupted #female hysteria #femcel #lana del rey #self healing #kindness

[cakefy]

TW ED , PLEASE LEAVE NOW IF YOU DON'T HAVE SIMILAR ISSUES OR ARE IN RECOVERY!

These are my stats.

Stats last updated on: 27/1/2023

Height: 168cm

Sw: 68 kg

Cw: 54.2 kg

Gw1: 57 kg

Gw2: 55 kg

Gw3: 52 kg

Gw4: 50 kg

Ugw: 48 kg

Pink indicates that i have unlocked a goal weight

Red indicates that i haven't

Workouts I'm doing: Just walking 5k steps a day.

Going to the gym 5 times a week doing CrossFit.

Extra info: located in Greece, not responding to creeps nicely, I'm a woman, 19 years old also a vegan.

Lgbtq safe space, homophobes are out of the window.

Sexuality: questioning prolly pan. Haha.

Hoping to find friends and hoping to be able to assist anyone that may need my help.

Notifications are on hmu. 💜 I have no triggers vent all you want. Ily sm.

#eating problems #tw ed in the tags #an0r3xic #4n0r3x14 #not pr0 just for myself #ana trigger #tw ed diet

[suzieb-fit]

Finishing my Monday with a really good pilates workout.

But oh, wait..... In that last pic there.... Is that? No, surely not? Is that....loose skin showing?? Is that old woman actually posting a public picture showing loose skin? Eww!

Ha, yeah, sorry.

I'm in my 50s, I've given birth to three children. I gained a large amount of fat after being diagnosed with type one diabetes in my teens. I yo-yo dieted for the next 20 years or so. Then I lost all the excess fat over a year or so in my late 30s.

Shock, horror - I'm human. And I've got loose skin that occasionally shows in certain positions.

Get over it 🙄 😂😂😂.

Anyway, I digress.

Excellent workout up in our little study/home gym.

#fitspo #fitspiration #fitblr #fitness #healthy living #health and fitness #fitness-by-suzie #fit #workout #fiton #pilates #fat loss #losing weight #weightloss #loose skin

[bizarre-blorbo-bracket]

FINAL: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics

Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:

Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)

a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:

He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.

Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming

Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.

His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."

I could honestly give him a lil smooch

He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied

He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki

instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched

I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile

Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)

I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.

I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction

My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.

After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that

I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop

I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded

I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet

I have visions of him

One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise

honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him

I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)

He's literally an architect

I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas

i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present

my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN

I've attempted slam poetry about him

I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand

I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that

the Bimodal Distribution

First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy

#davis #juror 8 #12 angry men #bimodal distribution

[cumbunnywitch]

Sometimes I like to think back to when I was a little egg. I don't even really remember when I started cracking that shell, maybe sometime around 15, maybe 16? A lot of my trans friends will say they knew really early on that they weren't their agab, but I don't really feel like I can say the same.

At some point, wanting to be a girl became a thing for me. It might just be my brand of Weird Brain Shit, but it felt very sudden. All at once, I was going through puberty and dating and having sex and doing all the things teenage boys do at that time, and it almost never felt off. I was in shape, I was actually pretty muscular and if I had kept up with my workout routine that highschool sports had instilled into me, I might have come out looking like a pretty hot guy. Especially after the acne went away.

But, something clicked in me. Something tiny that didn't make sense just yet that I wanted to be a girl. Not that I didn't feel like a boy, or that I couldn't keep being one, but that I wanted to be a girl. I couldn't find words to explain it for a very long time, and I still don't think I'm doing it justice, but I've come to understand it a little.

I ended up letting my at-the-time undiagnosed anxiety hold me back for a very long time. By 17 I knew that I didn't really think I was cis, maybe genderfluid or bi-gender, because those were easier things to think of. Around 18, I told my friends at the time, who at this point had seen me in a skirt in private on more than one occasion. But that was all just for sex and playing with gender roles with fuckbuddies. I still didn't understand.

At 20, I pushed that all down as hard as I could for awhile. I wanted to join the navy, be a pilot and fly fast planes. I still kind of wish I could, but that time has come to pass. At 22, when my application kind of just fell through and my girlfriend of 4 years (12 now) moved. I rekindled my relationship with my gender questioning, but I still wasn't motivated. I even went on a few dates (thanks polyamory!) dressed as a woman, though I'm not sure I really fit the part yet.

And then, the big thing happened. I was 25, squandering my life, and had just moved again. I didn't have a job and both me and my partner were depressed as hell. She broke up with me days before the move, and I went back home to my mom.

Utterly broken and looking for anything that could change me for the better, I started therapy. My therapist convinced me to talk to myself, to understand who I was and what I was feeling, In three sessions, I understood that I wasn't male. I shouldn't have been trying to be, I had been so lazy and so stupid and the 19 year old me would be disappointed in how I wasted the body we had sculpted into this lazy, floppy mess. I ugly cried in his office for 45 of our 50 minutes. He wasn't very familiar with this kind of problem, and gave me what help and resources he could.

Within a few months I had a job again, complete with health insurance and the kind of stability you get from having a paycheck. On October 30th, 2018, I had my first appointment with a doctor to start HRT. I met them as my old name, but that would end shortly.

On Halloween, I started my first dose of estrogen and spiro. I cried again, asking myself why it took so long to do this. I had insurance before, I could have done this then. I could have looked online, I could have done so many things! But I didn't. I pushed it off because it was easier then.

I'm tired of doing the easier thing all the time. It feels good to not have to work hard sometimes, but no matter how good the flowers smell in your backyard, you'll never know how the ones down the street smell if you don't get up and take a walk.

#ashe lore

[housefashionblog24]

Cricut or what

I like to watch this nyc lifestyle vlog sometimes, it is nice because there are things in the videos that I have seen before while shopping online or rarely in person shopping. I like the decorated glass tumblers in this video, which are like an iridescent set of cupcakes and cashmere brand glass tumblers I didn't purchase from the local tj maxx, or things I have seen online. In past videos, this youtuber used a customized taylor swift style viral Stanley cup and she decorated a coffee mug with her own cricut machine. I would love an excuse to work on a laptop again. Sometimes she goes to an influencer boxing class, I could get workout clothes just like the videos, she does her skincare and makeup with a big spa headband like they sell at the local ROSS or online. But I usually just watch the videos because I'm not working on any projects or goals, there is already too much cute or trendy stuff around me again without a purpose and I think if I got some salon equipment, my TV room would look like a beauty salon for children's parties. So many possibilities, but I don't know what to do. At least it is nice to see what they do on youtube for a cohesive media personality lifestyle.

Wouldnt it be fun to decorate these with a Cricut machine and apple laptop:

Meanwhile, I am experimenting with fake wisteria

I also thought about it, I have a dream catcher and a little bear fan, the decorations could go in another direction and be southwest or native appropriation style or taco bell speakeasy, it would look cool but probably not quite right for anything if I added a neon sign shaped like a Cactus and some colorful Mexican blankets.

Have you ever been so bored when you were in jail, you read some out of print books about missionaries and native americans. Like an older version of this book that has a map with Formosa

Then there was that obscure academic book about sioux Indians and some other inmates already tore out the pages with annie oakley's photograph. My old girl scout leader when I did girl scouts as a child was married to a descendent of Custer, I don't think there were any pages left in that jail book with his or his wife's photo. Last year, the girl scout leader helped my mom (troop co-leaders) with the garage/estate sale when before my mom moved away from this house, I don't know what kind of weird stuff was going on with her network, but it's the type of people who find men who look like my crime victims to prance around town with and send them thru the drive thru when I worked at mcdonalds and promote the singer jelly roll and the movie the whale and then do a background check that is incorrect and confuses my domestic crimes with what happened with this former friend that was a more serious charge until my plea deal, and I could never go back because of how everyone there violated me and scared me and I don't know how to play those games and thrive like other people, like whoever he was sending gift card codes to. I was recently reminded of this when I was streaming episodes of Dateline on youtube, and there was an episode about a woman in the military who was murdered on a military base. My friend was also involved with gift card romance scammers who said they were on military bases.

I could go on an on about advertising I've suffered through related to accusations from that case, I don't know how they do that, but I do not think it's fair to bother me anymore because he was my friend and I'm sorry it didn't work out and I can't go back.

Like, it wasn't a joke when he showed me photos of a woman in her underwear, bound and gagged with ransom notes superimposed text on the photos in weird font. He met her online and she got kidnapped instead of catching her flight to meet him. He actually called police departments other places. He told me that another girl friend of his was offering kidnapping for hire services, like reenacting a violent crime or some kinky thing )not like a cute thing like blindfolding someone on their way to their surprise destination birthday party). That is scary. Sometimes, I wonder if it is good when you're homeless to have the reputation of an insane criminal, like I did especially when i was homeless and trying to fulfill all my court obligations after release from jail. I did not get into that thing inmates (or some acquaintances or friends and family might do) do with announcing the maximum penalties when they talk about what they're in for.

I don't know if Jelly Roll has hosted of judged any beauty pageants, but thelaurennorris youtube competes in pageants. That collab would be almost as cool as when Taylor Swift and Ice Spice went to the Super bowl together. They have both done music videos with similar red hair, maybe they are wearing wigs or some type of hair extensions. It is like when you are similar but not quite as good looking as the hotel hostage photos of your friend's internet girlfriend. It is like "you might be a redneck" jokes but "you might be a red head"

#Youtube

[klemmensengreve80]

What exercises ought to a 50 yr outdated woman do to lose stomach fat?

Losing belly fat primarily includes a mixture of a nutritious diet and regular train. While spot reduction (losing fat from a particular area, just like the belly) just isn't efficient, incorporating quite lots of workouts may help you reduce total body fats, together with from the belly space. Here's a listing of workout routines and ideas that might be helpful for a 50-year-old woman seeking to lose stomach fats: Cardiovascular Exercise: Incorporate cardio exercises like brisk walking, jogging, cycling, swimming, or dancing into your routine. Aim for no much less than 150 minutes of moderate-intensity aerobic exercise per week, or 75 minutes of vigorous-intensity exercise. Interval Training: High-intensity interval coaching (HIIT) could be significantly effective for burning fat. It includes quick bursts of intense train followed by brief durations of relaxation. This can help enhance metabolism and burn calories. Strength Training: Include energy coaching workout routines to construct lean muscle mass, which might enhance your metabolism and assist with fats loss. Focus on compound workouts like squats, lunges, deadlifts, push-ups, and planks. Aim for 2-3 days of power training per week. Core Exercises: While spot reduction isn't effective, strengthening your core muscles can help enhance posture and create a toned appearance. Exercises like planks, Russian twists, and leg raises can help goal the belly muscular tissues. Flexibility and Balance: Incorporate activities like yoga or Pilates to improve flexibility, steadiness, and overall physique awareness. Continue reading can help with posture and make your midsection seem slimmer.

Healthy Diet: Weight loss is considerably influenced by food plan. Focus on a balanced diet that features loads of fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, entire grains, and healthy fat. Limit or keep away from sugary drinks, processed foods, and extreme consumption of refined carbohydrates. Portion Control: Be aware of portion sizes to keep away from overeating. Eating smaller, extra frequent meals throughout the day can help management hunger and maintain stable blood sugar ranges. Stay Hydrated: Drinking enough water is crucial for overall health and may help control starvation and reduce overeating. Stress Management: High stress ranges can contribute to belly fat accumulation. Incorporate stress-reduction strategies like meditation, deep respiration, or mindfulness into your daily routine. Adequate Sleep: Ensure you're getting sufficient quality sleep every night. Poor sleep can disrupt hormones that regulate appetite and contribute to weight acquire. Remember that spot reduction just isn't sensible, and fat loss tends to occur steadily over your whole physique. It's additionally necessary to consult with a healthcare provider or registered dietitian earlier than making significant changes to your exercise or food plan plan, particularly in case you have any underlying medical conditions or considerations. They can provide personalized steering based on your particular wants and objectives..

#Health

[powellslater47]

What workouts ought to a 50 12 months old lady do to lose belly fat?

Losing belly fat primarily involves a mix of a nutritious diet and regular exercise. While spot reduction (losing fats from a selected space, like the belly) just isn't efficient, incorporating a variety of workout routines might help you reduce general body fat, including from the belly space. Here's a list of exercises and ideas that can be helpful for a 50-year-old woman seeking to lose belly fats: Cardiovascular Exercise: Incorporate cardio workouts like brisk strolling, jogging, biking, swimming, or dancing into your routine. Aim for no less than 150 minutes of moderate-intensity aerobic exercise per week, or seventy five minutes of vigorous-intensity exercise. Interval Training: High-intensity interval coaching (HIIT) could be particularly effective for burning fat. It involves quick bursts of intense exercise adopted by temporary intervals of rest. This might help boost metabolism and burn calories. Strength Training: Include energy coaching exercises to construct lean muscle mass, which can improve your metabolism and help with fats loss. Focus on compound exercises like squats, lunges, deadlifts, push-ups, and planks. Aim for 2-3 days of strength training per week. Core Exercises: While spot reduction is not effective, strengthening your core muscular tissues might help enhance posture and create a toned appearance. Exercises like planks, Russian twists, and leg raises might help target the abdominal muscle tissue. Flexibility and Balance: Incorporate actions like yoga or Pilates to enhance flexibility, balance, and overall body awareness. These workouts can help with posture and make your midsection seem slimmer. Healthy Diet: Weight loss is considerably influenced by diet. Focus on a balanced diet that includes plenty of fruits, greens, lean proteins, whole grains, and wholesome fat. Limit or keep away from sugary beverages, processed foods, and excessive consumption of refined carbohydrates. Portion Control: Be aware of portion sizes to keep away from overeating. Eating veins doctor near me , more frequent meals all through the day might help management starvation and maintain steady blood sugar levels. Stay Hydrated: Drinking enough water is essential for general well being and can help management hunger and reduce overeating. Stress Management: High stress ranges can contribute to belly fat accumulation. Incorporate stress-reduction methods like meditation, deep respiratory, or mindfulness into your every day routine. Adequate Sleep: Ensure you're getting enough high quality sleep each night time. Poor sleep can disrupt hormones that regulate appetite and contribute to weight acquire. Remember that spot discount is not practical, and fat loss tends to occur progressively over your complete physique. It's additionally necessary to seek the assistance of with a healthcare provider or registered dietitian before making vital modifications to your train or food plan plan, especially in case you have any underlying medical situations or issues. They can provide personalized steering based in your particular needs and objectives..

#Center for Advanced Vein Care

[our-variety-store]

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