#fenugreek oil

[facecareroutine]

Fenugreek oil is great when it comes to hair growth and is loaded with other benefits for strong, healthy and growing hair. It is a power pack seed, and it is going to make your hair stronger, healthier, thicker, and longer when you incorporate this natural gift into your hair care routine. If you are wondering about a natural remedy that works as a miracle for all hair-related concerns such as hair loss, dandruff, hair fall, hair breakage and dryness, then you are in the right place. 

[morethansalad]

Vegan Butter Chicken Bao

[skinsimpletrue]

How To Use Fenugreek For Hair Growth & Control Hair Loss?

Fenugreek is becoming a popular home remedy for hair growth and is known to prevent hair loss. People are raving about the benefits of it, praising its natural properties for nourishing the scalp and strengthening hair. But does it really work? Read the article for all you need to know about this oil!

[tvguts]

stumbling across old text posts where i am very clearly struggling with horrible mental health issues is nuts. i forgot how fucking bad of a time i was having back in 2016-2019. i kind of can't believe how much i've improved, especially without meds/therapy

[essentialnaturaloilsusa]

How To Use Fenugreek Essential Oil To Promote Hair Growth

Fenugreek, scientifically known as Trigonella foenum-graecum, isn't just a common spice; it's a powerhouse of health benefits. Derived from its seeds, fenugreek essential oil has recently gained significant attention for its potential in promoting hair growth. Understanding the science behind its effects and the proper usage can pave the way for luscious, healthy hair. In this guide, we'll explore the remarkable benefits of fenugreek essential oil and how to use it effectively to support your hair growth goals. https://www.essentialnaturaloils.com/blogs/natural-essential-oils/how-to-use-fenugreek-essential-oil-to-promote-hair-growth

[banglakhobor]

সরষের তেলেই বন্ধ হবে চুলপড়া, দূর হবে খুশকি! জেনে নিন কী ভাবে লাগাবেন?

কীভাবে মেশাবেন?প্রথমে একটি প্যান নিয়ে তাতে সরষের তেল দিন। এবার এতে এক চামচ মৌরি, এক চামচ মেথি ও পান পাতা দিন। পান পাতা ছিঁড়ে দিয়ে দিন৷ এবার গ্যাস চালু করুন এবং ঢিমে আঁচে রান্না করুন। এটি রান্না করলে এই তিনটি জিনিসের পুষ্টিগুণ তেলে মিশে যাবে এবং চুলের সব ধরনের সমস্যা নিরাময়ে সাহায্য করবে। Source link

[svanatural]

Fenugreek Essential Oil

Discover the benefits of Fenugreek Essential Oil with our 100% pure, therapeutic-grade oil. Our oil is steam-distilled to ensure quality and purity, and can be used to promote healthy skin, hair, and more. Experience the power of nature!

[facecareroutine]

Fenugreek oil is great when it comes to hair growth and is loaded with other benefits for strong, healthy and growing hair. It is a power pack seed, and it is going to make your hair stronger, healthier, thicker, and longer when you incorporate this natural gift into your hair care routine. If you are wondering about a natural remedy that works as a miracle for all hair-related concerns such as hair loss, dandruff, hair fall, hair breakage and dryness, then you are in the right place. 

[morethansalad]

Vegan Roti Canai & Dhal Curry

[dsharma-world]

Try these simple steps to cook roasted cauliflower

Check out the recipe of roasted cauliflower

Tandoori Gobi is one of the scrumptious Indian snack dishes which is served in the North India continent. The dish that consists of spices and flavours is mostly served on various occasions. Whenever you look at this delectable dish, you will feel wonderful after eating this. The dish is appealing and enchanting that you won’t be able to resist your tastebuds. The distinctive quality of the…

[greenwitchcrafts]

August 2024 Witch Guide

New Moon: August 4th

First Quarter: August 12th

Full moon: August 19th

Last Quarter: August 26th

Sabbats: Lughnasadh/Lammas- August 1st

August Sturgeon Moon

Also known as: Barely Moon, Black Cherries Moon, Corn moon, Dispute Moon, Harvest moon, Herb Moon, grain moon, Mountain Shadows Moon, Red moon, Ricing Moon, Weodmonath & Wyrt moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Leo & Virgo

Animal spirts: Dryads

Deities: Diana, Ganesha, Hathor, Hecate, Mars, Nemesis, Thot & Vulcan

Animals: Dragon, lion, phoenix & sphinx

Birds: Crane, eagle & falcon

Trees: Alder, cedar & hazel

Herbs: Basil, bay, fennel, orange, rosemary, rue & St.John's wort

Flowers: Angelica, chamomile, marigold & sunflower

Scents: Frankincense & heliotrope

Stones: Carnelian, cats/tiger's eye, emerald, fire agate, garnet, jade, moonstone, peridot, red jasper, red agate, sardonyx, topaz & tourmaline

Colors: Dark green, gold, orange, red & yellow

Energy: Abundance, appreciation, authority, courage, entertainment, finding your voice, friendship, gathering, harvesting energy, health, love, pleasures, power, prophecy, prosperity, vitality & wisdom

The name Sturgeon Moon comes from the giant lake sturgeon of the Great Lakes & Lake Champlain; this native freshwater fish was readily caught during this part of summer & an important food staple for Native Americans who lived in the region. At one time the lake sturgeon was quite abundant in late summer, though they are rarer today.

• August's full moon is the first Supermoon of the year, which means that it will appear bigger & brighter than the full Moons we have seen so far!

Lughnasadh

Known as: Lammas, August Eve  & Feast of Bread

Season: Summer

Element: Fire

Symbols: corn, grain dollies & shafts of grain

Colors: Gold, golden yellow, green, light brown, orange, purple, red & yellow

Oils/Incense: Aloe, apple, corn, eucalyptus, safflower, rose & sandalwood

Animals: Cattle (bull & calf)

Birds: Chicken/Rooster

Stones: Aventurine, carnelian, citrine, peridot, sardonyx & yellow diamond

Food: Apples, barely cakes, berries, berry pies, breads, colcannon, cider, corn, grains, honey, lamb, nuts, potatoes, rice, sun-shaped cookies & wild berries

Herbs/Plants: Alfalfa, aloe, blackberry, bramble, corn, cornsilk, corn stalk, crab apple, fenugreek, frankincense, ginseng, goldenseal, gorse, grape, medowsweet, oak leaves, pear, rye, sloe & wheat

Flowers:  Clyclamen, heather hollyhock & sunflower

Trees: Acacia, apple, myrtle,oak & rowan

Goddesses: Aine, Alphito, Bracacia, Carmen, Ceres, Damina, Danu, Demeter, Ereshkigal, Freya, Frigga, Gaia, Inanna Ishtar, Kait, Persephone, Sul, Taillte, Tea & Zaramama

Gods: Athar, Bes, Bran, Dagon, Dumuzi, Ebisu, Ghanan, Howtu, Liber, Lono, Lugh, Neper, Odin & Xochipilli

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Accomplishment, agriculture, challenges, darkness, death, endings, release & transformation

Spellwork: Abundance, bounty, fire magick, rituals of thanks & sun magick

Activities:

• Bake fresh bread

• Weave wheat

• Take walks in nature or along bodies of water

• Craft a corn doll

• Learn a new skill

• Watch the sunrise/sunset

• Leave grains and seeds in a place where birds, squirrels and other small animals can appreciate them

• Eat outside with family/friends/coven members

• Donate to your local foodbank

• Prepare a feast with your garden harvest

• Give thanks & offerings to the Earth

• Trade crafts of make deals

• Gather and/or dry herbs to use for the upcoming year

• Celebrate/honor the god Lugh by hosting a competition of games

• Participate in matchmaking or handfasting ceremonies

• Decorate your altar with symbols of the season

• Clean up a space in nature

• Plant saved seeds or save seeds to use in the future

Lughnasadh or Lammas is a Gaelic festival marking the beginning of the harvest season. Historically it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland & the Isle of Man. Traditionally it is held on 1 August, or about halfway between the summer solstice & autumn equinox. In recent centuries some of the celebrations have shifted to the Sunday nearest this date.

Lughnasadh is mentioned in early Irish literature & has pagan origins. The festival is named after Lugh the god of craftsmanship. It was also founded by the god Lugh as a funeral feast & athletic competition/funeral games in memory of his foster-mother Tailtiu. She was said to have died of exhaustion after clearing the plains of Ireland for agriculture.

• Tailtiu may have been an earth goddess who represented the dying vegetation that fed mankind.

• Another tale says that Lugh founded the festival in memory of his two wives, the sisters Nás & Bói. 

In the Middle Ages it involved great gatherings that included ceremonies, athletic contests (most notably the Tailteann Games which were extremely dangerous), horse racing, feasting, matchmaking & trading.

• With the coming of Christianity to the Celtic lands, the old festival of Lughnasadh took on Christian symbolism. Loaves of bread were baked from the first of the harvested grain & placed on the church altar on the first Sunday of August. The Christianized name for the feast of Lughnasadh is Lammas which means “loaf mass”.

Some believe this is the time where the God has weakened & is losing his strength as seen in the waning of the day's light. The Goddess is pregnant with the young God who will be born on Yule.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[obeythebutler]

Could I request some kind of cooking date with Mammon? Location, cuisine, and outcome of the cooking is up to you. :)

-qrowsofafeather

One thing about Mammon is that he is scarily good at using knives.

Eons of experience as a Throne and having the physical prowess of a demon mean that he's the fastest, adept at fighting, all quick reflexes and agility. It means that he can handle a knife as if its second skin, whether to harm or defend.

Or even cut vegetables, in this scenario.

Three seconds in and when you took a glance at him the onion has already been peeled and cut finely into cubes, perfectly-sized. And his smug face when you checked up on him, winking at you with flour on his cheek.

Quite effective, but hey, what's the fun in cooking if you can't enjoy the process?

Especially with your loved ones.

"Slow down babe," You say, draining the half-cooked rice before filling it with water again. "You could hurt yourself." You know he could chop them blind and never get hurt. Still, you can't help but caution him.

"And you're the one getting papercuts every week."

"Shush."

You place the pot back on the stove, and turn your attention towards the oil that must be hot by now in the pot. It smokes, and you add in the fenugreek and cumin seeds, watch them splutter about and crackle.

You don't even get the chance to ask before the small container of asafoetida is handed to you. You look at your boyfriend, dumbfounded, before putting some in the pot.

Barbatos had a favour due for you, and so you and Mammon had visited the human world, to procure ingredients that you would not find in the Devildom, and if you did, the substitutes of it would make you laugh endlessly, burn your oesophagus from the inside-out. Like those Acidic Hell Fries.

Whoops, got a bit too graphic there.

Your tolerance grew though, with your tastebuds adjusting to the Devildom.

Mammon follows after, adding the chopped onions, garlic, green chillies and ginger in the pot. He gives it a stir, chewing all the while on the chilli.

Always a fan of spicy foodstuffs.

You watch the demon stir the contents of the pot around, content and concentrated. The brothers are out today due to some student council work, which you and Mammon decided to not attend.

Lucifer is going to hang you both upside-down later.

Nevermind that though.

His brows unconsciously furrow when he's engrossed in his work; in the zone as humans would call it. And with the sparse free moments you have, you decide to aim and deliver a fatal blow.

The squeak that leaves from Mammon's mouth reminds you of a mouse.

"Eek! Couldn't you have waited or somethin' before doing that!"

Your smile is mischievous.

You don't give him a reply, but instead slowly add the chickpea flour and curd mixture into the pot. Hand outstretched, you grab the ladle from Mammon and stir the mixture, ensuring that it does not curdle.

"Should I drain the rice now?" The demon says, though his tone indicates that he's aware of it being ready, yet asks for your affirmation.

You nod, attention still focused on the simmering contents before you. Just a bit more and it will start to boil, then you'll be free. One's mind can't help but wander during such moments, and the memories from your first year here come to mind.

Such peace in this kitchen wasn't always there. Sometimes you would be on duty to guard the fridge against a certain gluttonous demon, another time Lucifer had enchanted the doorway to the kitchen to ensure that whenever someone placed a foot on the kitchen threshold they would find themselves frozen.

It took a whole two minutes for Lucifer to finishing blending the ingredients and turn around to realise that you were stuck on the spot.

Cold metal against your skin makes your eyes widen.

His breath tickles your neck as Mammon hugs you from behind, content in watching you. Goosebumps raise on your skin as his hands slide against your stomach. You place a hand on his, squeezing lightly.

With your and Mammon's boundless energy, nothing short of chaos is expected. Any shenanigans that occur are credited to you both. Always smiling, always snickering.

Moments like these are rare though.

"There, all done." Your voice comes out in a whisper, and you leave the pot be. The kadhi has come to a boil, and Mammon hangs onto you as you add turmeric and salt to it. Half an hour more, and it will be ready to eat. You and your demon are simply content like this, to be.

"Your cooking is really nice, ya' know?" He mutters into your skin, placing a kiss on your neck. "We could make tons of Grimm selling it."

"You'll be my sous-chef then." You turn around, gently removing his hands to place them around your neck, a gentle smile on your face. "You will look so cute in a kitten apron, and flour on your cheeks." You swipe away the flour for him, pinching his cheek at the end.

He always gets riled up at being compared to a feline, though the inhabitants of this house would agree that the cat with the 'head empty' look suits him.

You called Belphegor eepy once.

"Deal no longer valid. Cook alone," Mammon grumbles, removing his hands and turning around to leave the kitchen. But you know he would never.

"Hey, sorry, sorry!" You laugh, grabbing the hem of his sleeve to make him turn towards you. When he does, there's a cute pout on his face as he glares at you. "You're adorable on your own. My first-man," You affirm, smile still present.

It was three am at night when you and Mammon first cooked together. Hours of playing Devilcraft, and with the demon hoarding all the gold he had mined, you both finally got up and stretched your tingling legs and got to work on sneaking into the pantry and then annihilating the kitchen.

You remember jumping in pain after having eaten the hotter than hot toasted sandwich. To top it off Mammon had added hellfire peppers.

It took a minute of hobbling around in agony before downing a glass of milk.

Although you've grown quite tolerant of Devildom cuisine, perhaps even taken a liking to it. The stew you make on Tuesday nights always gets appreciation, and you always serve it first to Mammon.

When he's got your undivided attention like this—you both cooking together—and in tune with each others thoughts, the domesticity of it, like a married couple, makes his heart swell.

Greed is his sin.

That means he'll always crave you, a love set in determined devotion.

When the brothers arrive an hour later, they find two lumps on the couch, complimented with a messy kitchen.

[mochalate]

[bonus] new notification!

osamu miya x reader || w/c: 1.4k no one knows atsumu like osamu does. This is a bonus chapter to my atsumu x reader series, new notification, but can be read standalone. Reader is a nutritionist for the Jackals. [see masterlist here] c/w: angsty

Growing up, sometimes Osamu would wonder what it might have been like to live in a world without Atsumu.

It's a thought that had felt improbable, and maybe even a little irrational— like thinking what it would have been like to have grown up in Hokkaido instead of Hyogo.

It was ridiculous, because the Miyas had lived and worked in Hyogo for generations— without even the whisper of a chance of ever leaving at any point in their history; and he was Osamu Miya, twin brother of Atsumu Miya. 

It was how things were. 

And growing up like that with lives so intertwined, meant that one way or another, Atsumu would show up at Onigiri Miya at least once a week; long after they were no longer considered a set. 

(Osamu didn’t want to say it was a twin thing, because he hated people calling anything he did a twin thing… but really, it was a twin thing.)

It was routine. Atsumu would walk in around the end of the afternoon, claim a stool near the cash register, order a plate, and then chat with Osamu for a couple of hours.

(Osamu is grateful for this. He knows he hasn’t been to even a quarter as many games of Atsumu’s as Atsumu has to Onigiri Miya’s lunch rushes.)

It was routine, so he notices when something is different— he notices when Atsumu brings you, one Saturday afternoon.

These are the first words you ever say to him, over the weekend special: “Oh, oh, this is lovely.”

It’s not very busy (and well, a pretty woman was complimenting his food) so he talks a little more than he usually does. “Ya want to know what’s in it?”

“Definitely.”

“The trick is in the sauce. Ya gotta get the spice mix just right, and then whip it with some olive oil.” Osamu rattles off a list, as he rings up another customer.

Atsumu looks lost. “What the hell is fenugreek?”

“It’s a spice,” you say, as you scribble everything down on a napkin. “It’s kind of bitter, but it balances out the rest.”

He's surprised. “Yer kidding, how does anything bitter taste this good?“

“That's because it's not alone!”

“Know yer way around spices?” Osamu asks.

“She’s a freak about food just like you,” Atsumu scoffs. “She knows.”

You meet his eyes for a second; and then quickly look away, embarrassed without that buffer of being entirely a stranger. 

Interesting, Osamu thinks.

“And you know, Sakusa was looking, so he said the cookies were fine.” You lean in conspiratorially. “But I saw him spitting into a napkin.”

Osamu winces. “He’s got a hell of a sweet tooth. Sorry ya had to see that.” He can’t imagine it was fun, having your cooking rejected so dramatically.  

To his surprise, you laugh. “Oh no, it was my fault. Does anyone like raisin bran? I like that he’s so honest.”

You’ve started to show up at Onigiri Miya a lot, mostly at night, near closing. You’re not as frequent a visitor as Atsumu; but you’re there enough for him to wonder if you’re showing up as he begins to square away the receipts. 

When you do come, you always have food with you. You always want to know what he thinks of your recipes.

(They start to taste better and better. He starts to look forward to it.)

The last customer, an old man, shuffles towards the register and passes him some crumpled bills. Osamu thanks him, and signals his staff to start closing. 

“Do you have a lot left to do before you go home?” you ask. 

He shrugs. “I could let the staff take care of it. But I try to help out with some of the little stuff.”

“Like?”

“Well…” Osamu bends down, and pulls out the box of fresh paper napkins. “I have to refill the holders.

“Oh, I can help with that!”

“I couldn’t ask ya to—”

You wave him off. “Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble. I’m always taking up your time, it’s the least I could do.”

It’s been a long time since Osamu has thought of being an only child. Somewhere in between when they started kindergarten (where Osamu had discovered that was an option) and the present, Atsumu had become a fact of life.

Now, as he watches you move around the tables, he thinks you’ve started to slot into his life pretty well too. 

It’s the morning after you stay over that first night that he realises he’s in a little too deep.

It’s completely innocent— you both just lost track of time, working on a project for the Jackals together. Osamu couldn’t let you go home alone that late at night, and you’d known him for months at this point. He certainly hoped you didn’t think he was a creep.

It’s completely innocent. But that didn’t change the fact that you were making breakfast for him, in his kitchen, first thing in the morning. It didn’t change the fact that he’d woken up to the delicious smell of frying eggs, and an apartment that felt alive. 

(It doesn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile at him over your shoulder.)

“Take a seat! Eggs are almost done.”

Osamu sits. This isn’t real. You’re dressed and ready for the day, and you look far too put together and professional to fit into the cosy fantasy that’s fighting to play out in his head. 

“Do you like them scrambled?” you ask, as you set two plates of scrambled eggs on the kitchen table and pull out a chair for yourself. “Atsumu said he liked scrambled eggs best, once. So I thought—” you cut yourself off, embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that just because you’re twins.”

Death. Taxes. Atsumu. Facts of life. Where every conversation inevitably ends up. 

“I like ‘em,” Osamu says, as he shovels a spoonful into his mouth. “Thanks.��

(It tastes just a little bit better than when he makes them.)

When Atsumu nervously asks him if cooking together is a euphemism; he realises three things.

One; that Atsumu has figured out that the ‘company’ Osamu has vaguely referred to having over is you.

Two, that his brother has, at the very least, a massive crush on you.

And three, that he inexplicably feels guilty for his attempts at flirting with you.

It’s not up to him, he thinks. And it’s not up to Atsumu. It’s up to you. 

He’s still thinking that when he stops you from accidentally touching the cast iron on the stove. He’s thinking it when he feels the soft skin of your wrist, and when he hurriedly lets go to try and turn his attention back to the broth he’s making.

(You’re a little out of sorts today. He doesn’t know why. He wants to ask, but every time he marshalls the words onto his tongue, that damn guilt keeps rearing its head.)

He’s thinking it when you ask him if he thinks you have a chance with Atsumu; and when he considers, for one shameful moment, if it was okay to be selfish just this once. Tell you he doesn’t think Atsumu is interested in anyone. Make a joke about how the only thing Atsumu is capable of loving is a volleyball.

Atsumu, who showed up week after week. Who fought his parents until they agreed to support Osamu’s entrepreneurial dreams. His brother, who he knew better than anyone, who he knows would back off and make it all too easy for him to believe that lie if Osamu ever told him he was interested in you.

So he doesn’t think about it after that, and settles for touching you one last time, in the guise of friendship.

Osamu hears you giggle at something his brother said, as he heads into the back of the restaurant. 

He tells himself he’ll get over it, as he puts a takeout box together. It’s true. Eventually, he’ll be able to listen to that sound without running to hide in a kitchen. 

Osamu feels himself falling into the comfort of familiar movements— chopping the ingredients and shaping the rice; feeling the sticky, starchy grains between his palms. 

It’ll be okay.

(It’s better this way. He knows Atsumu well. He’s never been good at handling bitter food.)

If you're here after part 4, here are the [end notes] If you found this in the Osamu tag, consider reading [the original fic?] Or maybe one of [my others?] Please leave a like/reblog/reply if you enjoyed. ♥️♥️