#swords are part of a heart healthy diet guys

[a1readygone]

Painting of Jorge Rivera-Herrans I made in celebration of EPIC's Underworld Saga releasing <3

(yes i know the facial hair is wrong, sorry jay im not fixing it lol)

[ridiasfangirlings]

Mission requiring Kuroh to be at Scepter 4 for a month, and in the meantime he is staying with Fushimi. Cue the two working together and Kuroh trying to take care of Fushimi.

Kuroh just walking into Fushimi's dorm room and having a very polite version of the 'damn, bitch you live like this?' reaction. Kuroh would be just completely scandalized by Fushimi's...everything, like imagine the first time he sees Fushimi 'eat breakfast' (meaning he sucks down a black coffee and eats a Caloriemate). Say post-ROK the Red, Blue and Silver clans have all been working together to help keep the Strain situation in line, S4 obviously has been taking on the bulk of the work but Homra helps out as best they can. Hakumaitou can't do quite as much since they have school and such but Kuroh does wish to be of use if needed, he feels like they should do their part as well in keeping the peace. Maybe as it happens both Munakata and Awashima are called away from S4 for government duties right when there's some big Strain issue happening and Munakata requests Kuroh come and work as a partner with Fushimi, Munakata is well aware that Fushimi will just overwork himself and do everything on his own if someone's not there to keep him in line. Kuroh finds it an odd request, probably initially misunderstanding and assuming he's being asked because Fushimi seems so lazy and apathetic about everything he probably doesn't do any work at all if someone's not there to watch him.

Kuroh soon realizes that he's misunderstood entirely when he realizes that Fushimi actually works too much, and will skip over things like eating and sleeping if someone's not around to watch him. After observing Fushimi's activities for a day or so Kuroh comes to the conclusion that this man is in fact even worse than Shiro or Neko ever was, the Blue King must have requested this of him because Fushimi needs a caretaker who can watch him and be certain that he doesn't do any further harm to his own health. Naturally Kuroh takes this very seriously, like imagine him sitting there all determined to make Fushimi into someone healthy and full of vigor all while behind him Fushimi's sitting there with bags under his eyes typing up a few more reports. Kuroh decides his first order of business will be to fix Fushimi's diet, he heads into the kitchen to make a delicious balanced meal...which Fushimi promptly ignores except maybe to eat a couple pieces of meat, refusing all the vegetables. Cue Kuroh in the kitchen of S4 looking over recipes like a mad scientist, trying to discover the best way to hide the veggies so that Fushimi will eat them.

Kuroh also creates a daily schedule for Fushimi, like at this time we'll wake up, followed by stretching and twenty minutes of vigorous exercise to get our hearts pumping, then a healthy meal, then some work followed by stretching intervals so your hands don't cramp, them sword training, eating another healthy meal, stretching and work time and eventually going to bed at a reasonable hour. Kuroh is so proud of this schedule and of course Fushimi just ignores it, sleeping in and then dragging himself straight to the office where he sits hunched at his desk for hours and hours subsisting entirely on black coffee, staying up late into the night to the point Kuroh is seriously considering knocking him out and dragging him back to bed. Fushimi doesn't get why Kuroh's so determined to take care of him, complaining that they aren't friends and he doesn't need to be Kuroh's pity project. Kuroh expresses some surprise at that, he admits that he hasn't had a lot of time to get to know Fushimi but he can see that Fushimi is an extremely talented person and an extraordinarily hard worker, but also that he's someone who isn't used to taking care of himself and Kuroh doesn't like that, he thinks Fushimi should place more value on himself and treat his own body better. Fushimi clicks his tongue at that and complains under his breath about 'stupidly earnest guys' but he does finally sigh and tells Kuroh to bring the dinner he made, Fushimi will try to eat it anyway.

[theclownandtheflame]

hi bet you thought you'd seen the last of me! Part 2 of my first Gaius x MC fic is heeeereeee

You guys know the drill: don't like Gaius?? Don't read. You think this ship is cursed? Jokes on you, we don't care what you think! And also, don't read.

Here we gooooooo

Victim, Victim, Monster.

A Gaius Augustine x MC fanfic

written by : @theclownandtheflame

DISCLAIMER: slight mentions of PTSD

Characters used &/or mentioned belong to Pixelberry!!! All rights to them even if they take ours on a daily basis

My mother language is Portuguese so please excuse my grammar should it be necessary!

MC's name here is Athena :P

You can read part 1 by clicking riiight here!

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The first rays of sunshine peered into her chamber through a thin gap under the door.

It was unlikely to hope vampires were ever so prone to all-nighters, specially after crowded events. Yet, there she was, hoping to stay up no matter how weary the island made her feel. The ferals, the tree, the truth spilled by grandpa himself.

The late visit of Gaius Augustine and how it still made her body shiver.

Kicking the blankets aside, Athena sat upright and spared herself one minute to recollect her thoughts. Being related to the enemy and sharing a blood connection was enough to make her heart ache. Then, on the other side, Gaius brought something new to the table of unwelcome contents. She felt broken, dirty, undone. Incapable of facing her friends after last night's events.

Because the enemy is uncharted territory. It should remain that way at all costs.

"Yo!" The door flew open, Lily's cursed timing dragging her out of eerie reveries. "Breakfast's ready. If you can call that a breakfast. There's alcohol, though!"

Forcing herself to deliver a smile, Athena stood to her feet and stretched her arms towards the ceiling.

"Yeah, weirdly enough we never seem to run out of booze."

"Damn right!" The cheerful vampire didn't seem to pick up anything suspicious. Good. Gesturing towards the common room, Lily hurried off and clapped her hands as Athena followed close behind.

"She's alive, champs! A little oozy, though. Must be seasick."

Greeted by the three other vampires, the Bloodkeeper ran a hand through her hair and leaned into the table.

"So," Jax sighed, divided between talking to the squad and polishing the sword on his lap. "We got one sack of blood to make through this trip. Meaning we'll starve a little, but nothing compared to the shit we went through."

Rolling her eyes to his lack of enthusiasm, Kamilah laid back on her seat. Her fingertips drummed on the table's surfice, whereas Adrian's forearms rested upon it.

"Jeez. Tension's thicc." Lily whistled, plopping down between the two older vampires. "We'll each take a sip and pretend we're on a diet. Gotta be on shape to face Rheya, amirite?"

Suddenly inspired, Jax grabbed the sword by the hilt and aimed the blade towards the center of the table.

"And if we give none to the freak, we're saving even more!"

"Stonks!" Lily grinned, and although their sarcasm didn't please her one bit, Kamilah's lips twitched into a smile. Adrian remained impassible, but his eyes searched for Athena's, reading through her distant expression.

"Anything in mind?" He lisped, reaching out to grasp her hand and gently tug her to the empty seat by his side.

"Where's Gaius?" She blurted out, unmoving, much to Adrian's surprise.

"He's brooding."

Kamilah clenched her jaw. The mere mention of that cursed name never ceased to displease her. Jax was the one to point towards a far corner in the room, the tip of his blade glistening under the sunlight.

The man in question had his back turned towards the bunch. He sat down on the floor, his head slightly crooked to one side, hands on his knees. One could tell he was probably meditating to deflect hunger strikes.

They all kind of were. In their own way.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Athena picked the bag of blood and considered its content for awhile. They had a little more than a half. Enough for the rest of the day, but not for the days to come.

Squaring up her shoulders, she took the first step towards Gaius only to be stopped by a murmur.

"You're not doing what we think you're doing, are you?" Kamilah squinted, her voice meticulously projected with a warning tone.

Lily was the second to protest, picking at her purple dreadlocks to – poorly – hide her nervousness. "Athena, please tell me you're just going to take your sip near him so he can thirst over temptation..."

Sucking in a breath, she closed her eyes and clutched the bag a little tighter.

"I'll give him a sip."

Jax' fist slammed into the table. A little more force and it'd bend.

"Absolutely not!"

"We need him swell to fight Rheya. He's the strongest of us all. It's only wise!"

"Nothing about this is wise! We have the weapon, we know how to kill her, we don't need him anymore!" Jax sought out to Adrian's support, but the latter didn't even flinch. He studied her with caution, his shoulders slumping helplessly.

Averting her gaze not to meet their eyes, Athena swallowed hard. Hiding the truth was getting more and more difficult, but she was keen on keeping it sealed until the final fight.

"The more help we get, the better. Trust me, I know. I... know too much, to be honest."

With her head lowered, she resumed her pacing and came to a halt once reaching him from behind. She needn't explain her reasons, or allert him of her arrival, just as much as he needn't open his eyes to welcome her into his personal space.

"You came."

She sucked in a sigh.

"That's what she said."

Twitching his face into a grimace, Gaius tensed up when she crouched by his side. The hands on his knees clenched into fists as he struggled to refrain from showing hints of affection.

He knew if they made it clear something else was going on, things would be a lot more complicated than just warming up for war. And she thanked him for his discretion. Even if she herself couldn't share of it.

"I brought you breakfast. It's not much, but it's honest work." She smiled, genuinely this time, no matter how much it hurt to push back the thoughts that swarmed her head.

His lips seemed to curl into a smile for an instant, until crumpling back into a frown.

"Save it. You will need it more than me."

Rolling her eyes, she shoved the bag on his chest.

"We all thirst the same. I'm not asking you to chug, just take a sip."

The hand which held the sack pressed a tad further, and her fingertips gently brushed the exposed skin of his neck. Shuddering under her touch, Gaius recoiled. He snatched the bag from her hand and hissed, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Last night. Forget it." He opened his eyes at last, only to meet her weary ones. "It was a blunt mistake that I don't wish to dwell on."

Taken aback by the sharpness of his words, Athena glared at him even as he returned the bag and resumed his posture.

"Is that so?" She mumbled, leaning in to let her voice resonate into his ear. "Then I think I can keep the door locked this time."

He growled, building up a retort she didn't stay to hear. Taking a sip of the bag herself, Athena stood to full height and once again rejoined the restless group.

"You guys are right." She hummed, her voice loud and clear. "He's not worth the time."

Getting a nod from each in response, she carefully shot one last glance towards the second son... and witnessed a flinch he masked with a sigh.

[...]

Time went by like the weavering concept it is, lacking roots and the patience they needed to better prepare. Jax spent the afternoon training alongside Lily, having Athena join them once in a while. Adrian and Kamilah immersed themselves into war strategies, their foreheads crinkling at the pace they fumbled with plans.

By the time the sun set, she had already mingled with the team and found enough distractions to flee from the day prior. The Bloodkeeper slipped away from the common room to hide in her chambers, yearning for some time alone. It was hard to face everyone knowing what she knew. Being who she was.

Everyone... but him.

He was the only one who could possibly understand.

Scrunching up her nose at the thought of him, Athena locked the door and tossed the key aside. She stared at it for a second longer, until the faintest noise made her twirl on her heels and adopt a fighting stance.

"There you are." He cooed. His body laid peaceful on her bed, legs crossed and arms wide open, practically an invitation she felt compelled to oblige. But she didn't. Not one bit.

"You told me to forget about last night." The woman hissed, clenching her hands into fists this time around.

Catching sight of it, he smirked.

"Living off past memories can't be healthy, my dear. We both know that." His hand gently patted the spot by his side, his gaze never moving away from hers. "We're bound to make some new ones."

Swallowing hard, she eventually made a beeline towards the bed and yelped when he reached out to pull her by the wrist.

"What the f—"

He didn't give her the time to properly fall on the mattress. He pulled her in, their bodies pressing together, and slithered a hand up her arm to delicately reach her chin.

Athena gasped at his subtlety, moreover at the thumb that brushed over her bottom lip before settling on her jaw.

"Something bothers you as much as it does me." Gaius lisped at first, his expression surprisingly soft despite the intensity of his actions prior. "Something that happened at the island." He looked her in the eye, struggling not to stare at her lips instead.

"What did Demetrius do to you?"

His concern was more than welcome; however, his curiosity was not. Unwilling to share the truth so soon, she closed her eyes to escape his glare and shuddered at the reminder of the things that were at stake.

Taken aback by her display of fragility, he eased the embrace and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. This made her curl up against him, her hands clutching the fabric of his vests. Sighing, he stroked her hair.

"Sacrifices, Athena." Distraught, Gaius laid his chin upon her head. "Whether it be your mind, your ideals or those you love... they're never viable."

She tilted her head to face him, her eyes red but no tears left for him to wipe. They stood silent for a long while, just gazing into each other's hues, until he brushed their noses together and finished his thought.

"They're simply... inevitable."

Her eyes fluttered closed. As did his. And without further ado, they latched at each others lips.

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Tags; @galaxy-of-rosess @thirteenis-myluckynumber @edgiestwinter @zeetao-hime

Thank you guys so much, I never thought this would drag any attention at all so I'm (happily) surprised!! ❤️

[ckgalloway]

Highlander for an hour

This is a story about how I didn’t do my first Munro.

A Munro is a mountain in Scotland that rises more than 3000 feet. It’s a badge of honour to “bag” a Munro. This particular hike at Glenshee was described as an easy Munro because you can drive most of the way up. 

My husband, Rich, and my son, Oscar, had been hiking with some of his teaching colleagues over the summer, and I happened to have the day off so I decided to join them. An easy hike on a Munro, said Richard. I pictured a parking lot near the summit and a stroll along the ridge with lovely views.

We drove to the Glenshee Ski Centre, up in the Cairngorms. The views were gorgeous, even in the rain, but the mountains seemed huge. Maybe the easy one was further down the road. 

While we waited for the rest of the group, Rich’s colleague pointed out an easy walk. 

“You walk up to that chairlift there, and then over to that chairlift and back down.”

I chuckled. Easy, right. Rich’s colleagues had a lovely sense of humour.

She looked at me quizzically. She wasn’t joking. My heart dropped into my stomach. Good grief, if that’s an easy walk, what on earth is an easy Munro?

Still, there were four kids with us, so how bad could it be? 

As the teachers and their families began to arrive, I started to worry. They were all so fit and outdoorsy looking. I’m a cheesemaker, so I’m strong, but this lot had less body fat between them then I have in my love handles. 

We drove down the road to another car park. The mountain peaks here looked bigger, not smaller. Teachers started pulling out brightly-coloured wet weather gear and snapping open walking sticks while I stood there in my grey trench coat. I felt like a tourist who’d stumbled into an advertising shoot for North Face.

“We’re going up there,” said Rich’s colleague, pointing a dark cloud hanging possessively around the tallest peak. 

“And then we’ll walk along that ridge and…” Her voice faded out as my inner panic set in. I fumbled through my backpack and dug out my inhaler. Bollocks, it expired in 2019. Should be fine though, right?

I took up position at the end of the line. The hike started out nice and flat. I chatted with the organiser and confessed some of my fears. She pulled out a map in a neat waterproof bag and showed me an alternate route, promising to warn me when we got there. We crossed a small stream and I congratulated myself for not falling in. Then the trail started going up. Sharply. I glanced ahead. Oscar was halfway up the first hill and the others were springing up the path like giddy mountain goats. I stared at the ground. Just concentrate on yourself Chris, one step, then another, then another. Not so bad. I enjoyed about 15 seconds of the climb before the shortness of breath kicked in. Inhaler at the ready, I took few more steps. My breaths were fast and loud in my ears. The rain pelted me in a rapid beat, like that scene in Indiana Jones were the dude rips out the poor guys heart. Surely everyone could hear me gasping for breath. Two quick puffs of my inhaler and onward. Okay, I was making ok time. I looked up. Rich and his colleague were way ahead, waiting for me. Crap. 

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. Speaking would use up far too much oxygen.

We carried on, the Rich and his colleague kindly slowing down to walk with me as they had chatted. I could hardly breathe and they were taking away. I knew it then. I would never make it.

We stopped at the crossroads. There was an old military road that followed an easier route. I was given the option to go the easy way and meet them at the end, or carry on with the group. A brief internal struggle took place while I struggled for breath. I could carry on, buckle down, find the inner strength and do a Munro. Or I could admit failure.

I’m not ashamed to say, I chose failure. Okay, I’m maybe slightly ashamed.

It took me 43 years to figure it out, and I’m still not that great at it, but I’m starting to feel the sweet freedom of not doing something.

It wasn’t pretty. My “easy” road was still pretty steep. And I desperately wanted to get away from the group so I could break down in tears. Bloody Scottish landscapes with no bloody trees. I struggled up the slope for a good ten minutes while they could still se me. Were they telling themselves they knew I wouldn’t make it? Were they saying it’s such a shame I let myself get into this state of globular ill-health. Or worse, were they pitying me?

As soon as they disappeared behind the slope I let go of my tenuous self-control, crying and wheezing up the road. I was full of self-loathing and directionless anger. The slope kept getting steeper and steeper, then it disappeared and I was climbing through calf-high wet grass, my feet squelching in wet shoes, tears mingling with cool rain. Not only might I be a failure, but I could be lost in the highlands for twenty years, only to be found again as an object of curiosity having finally lost the weight on a diet of heather and tubers only to have lost my marbles, speaking in an imaginary language to animals while only hissing at humans.

But, I was on a barren hill. Once I got to the top, I could basically see for 100 miles in any direction. Alas, in twenty years I’ll still be fat and (relatively) sane.

Part way up, I found a faint trail which met up with a bigger trail. My anger deflated. I couldn’t blame them for being fit and healthy and wanting to exercise their abilities. In fact, they seemed quite lovely and were probably just concerned in a reasonable kind of way. All that disgust came from me. But why? So I can’t climb a mountain. I can write a novel. I can illustrate an Aztec god. I can accurately cut 200 gram pieces of cheese for 8 hours in a row.

The rain stopped, the sun came out, I looked around and I was alone on top of the world. The steep path was behind me and the road ahead followed the ridge in gentle rises. My back straightened and my strides lengthened. A gust of wind blew my coat behind me and I felt like the Highlander. Did the Highlander have a trench coat? And long hair, and a sword and lighting powers or something? Anyway, I felt strong as hell.

I strode that ridge like I was riding the wind. To my left, tiny toy cars crept along a narrow ribbon of road, distant and inconsequential. To my right, an eagle flew below me. I was alone in my empire of heather and grass, queen of nothing, ruled by nothing.

Then I tripped over a stone and giggled at my little fantasy. Could I be having fun? I stopped and took pictures of heather and feathers and the rain-shrouded peaks around me while I bathed in sunlight. I had genial conversations with the rain, birds of prey and myself. This is normal for me. Most of the dialogue and plot of my novels were spoken aloud before they were ever written down. Crazy? Possibly. Effective? Absolutely.

This is what I said.

“I accept there are things I’m not good at.

I accept there are things I cannot do.

I accept there are good things about me.

I accept the good and the bad about myself.

I accept myself the way I am.”

This became my mantra.

“I accept myself the way I am.”

This phrase floated in my head for my entire walk on the top of the hill. When I slipped on the gravel on the way down and fell, I lay down and laughed. When I reached the car, two hours later, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I coxed my eyes and dozed in the sunshine while I waited for the others to return, and I was glad to be where I was.

When they came back, six hours after they left, I was honestly happy to see them and hear about their epic adventure, conquering not just one, but two Munros.

And I lived happily ever after.

Hah.

I wish.

I’m happy for Richard and Ozzie, and proud their accomplishment, but I be lying if I said I didn’t I feel a twinge of hurt when I hear what about all the wonderful stories and accomplishments that they had on their journey, moments I couldn’t be a part of, that I wasn’t good enough to be a part of. 

But every time I think back to that time, striding the hilltop with my coat billowing behind me like a cape, the wind playing with my hair, companion to eagles, I remember that freedom. 

The freedom of failure.

[datingadviceonreddit]

IT’S NOT ABOUT YOUR LOOKSI work with a lot of guys who are self conscious about their looks, so I thought I’d throw this in here to reiterate what has already been disproven over and over again. Looks do not matter. Can they help? Absolutely! But if you’re good looking and you’re still insecure, you can bet your pretty little face you won’t be getting lucky tonight. I guarantee it. Some of my clients are above average in looks, yet still have difficulty attracting girls they want and desire.Women experience attraction differently than we do. Their attraction dials go up and down depending on how you act. Yours, as a man, remains static. She’s either hot, or she isn’t.Guys. I’ve seen some of the HOTTEST women with the sleeziest, turdy-looking, head-turning-cause-he’s-so-puny, sons of bitches. It’s amazing what confidence can do, and I feel unbelievably blessed to have been born a man.You should be glad, too.Point taken: Looks don’t matter for shit.EMOTIONAL ARMORIf feeling safe is one of the strongest precursors to confidently entering a world of complete muck, then get ready to put a fat, smirky smile on your face.Anxiety is a bitch. This is not a new concept. A pretty and perky woman can can tear apart even the strongest, most masculine-looking mother*cker, and anxiety is all to blame.If you put on some armor and a sword and shield…you’d be able dive in head first into the world knowing you’d be just fine. Instead of providing a physical analogy for you, understand it is necessary to equip yourself with emotional armor.At first, you do this by diving in without any of that.Don’t worry. A little kick in the ass won’t hurt, right? Wrong! It’s might hurt a little...at first. It’s the emotional equivalent of going into military bootcamp, and the endurance of pain is in a man’s prerogative, meaning it is a masculine thing to do. Women practically melt at the thought of a man being able to endure endless amounts of searing, white-hot pain.Once you finish with this stage (it’s always the hardest, but here comes the good part), the second stage is more of a realization. All of that pain you just went through? Look at your body now. Your face. The metal in your hand. You’re completely covered in armor now, and you’re holding a sword and shield in your hands. You feel powerful. Hardened. The most important thing you’re protecting, however, isn’t your body.It’s your heart.If you know you’ll do anything to protect your integrity and emotions, you won’t be worrying about anything. You will no longer be afraid of hurting others. Why? Because self defense is justifiable. Your physical and emotional wellbeing is always a priority unless you’re protecting someone you deeply care about (girlfriend/wife, family, kids, etc). This means you won’t be going out and actively hurting others. Growing a set of teeth that you’re willing to use exudes your capacity to hurt others. But choosing not to use them is extremely honorable. It’s the equivalent of a military flexing its prowess in front of another country. It communicates, “We come in peace, but if you screw with us, get ready to get your head blown off.” The response you receive is respect, admiration, and in the context of women…attraction.Ever hear of the phrase: “You learn to fight so you don��t have to” ?It’s self explanatory. You learn to fight in order NOT to fight. Your unwavering confidence alone will be enough to deter your enemies. This is why overly aggressive males aren’t seen as attractive (and sometimes scary) to women; they’re clearly hiding their own insecurities. By contrast, however, truly confident males capable of steering away enemies will be highly, highly confident and relaxed.Point taken: Go into the world knowing your heart will always be protected by you when threatened, then paradoxically, you won’t have to. Women will find the underlying confidence attractive as hell.TRUSTHave you ever gone about your day and asked someone for the time? What about asking someone to pass you the ketchup? Or asking someone to do a favor for you?Anything that requires skill (socializing) requires a set amount of trust. The only way to build trust that you’re not going to get burned (rejected) is by doing something small, then working your way up to something bigger (getting laid).As stated before, ask the time to an elderly person. They can’t hurt you. They’re weak and frail, have fake teeth, and probably walk around in a diaper. They’re harmless. Ask them for the time.  There. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?Now go up to the cute cashier and ask her for the time. It’s okay. She’s there because she has to be. It’s her job. No issues there. She told you the time yet? Excellent! You had a quick exchange, and it didn’t hurt you. So far, so good. Now keep going.Go and say hello to the cute girl standing in line at Starbucks. Just a “hello, how are you?”. No conversation. Just hello as you stand next to her in line. See? That wasn’t hard at all.Now go say hello to the good looking cougar across from you at the gym. No worries. This time you can say “Hey. Good workout?” with a smile. No conversation. Just let her talk and answer the question.Before you know it, she’ll be babbling away about how great or bad her day was, and your natural replies to the conversation will start flowing. Beautiful. Excellent. 10/10. Great job.But hold on a second. Where’s the pain? No pain this time. And all we did was start off by asking that cute little old lady what the time was.Point taken: Start off small. Build your way up.FEELING GOOD ALL THE TIMEWhether you know it or not, whether you believe it or not, your positive emotions are heavily affected by the food you eat. How can you expect to get out of the house when your brain has all of its neurotransmitters crapped out? I’m not going to get into all of the complicated science behind depression, but I guarantee your life is being ruined by all the crap you might be eating. Bad, addictive foods are literally drugs. Sugar is a drug similar to cocaine (That’s no joke. Look it up). Gluten severely spikes up inflammation in the body. And both substances cause long term, severe depression and anxiety in otherwise healthy individuals, both of which affect socializing DIRECTLY. Though slower in their negative effects toward your health, they are no different than doing actual drugs such as meth, cocain, or heroine (users report high anxiety and depression after using…not a coincidence in relation to food).I can’t emphasize this portion enough. It’s about the neurochemicals that directly affect your behavior on a daily basis. Individuals overlook what they put into their bodies, yet expect some kind of magic pill (or article) to fix all their problems. In my opinion, diet alone can fix all these problems, like anxiety, and even approach anxiety. Big changes in your neurochemical activity take place. Women are attracted to men for their brains and not their looks, so why would a woman, from a biological standpoint, want to reproduce with a guy with an unhealthy brain? She wouldn’t, just as a female lion wouldn’t reproduce with a weaker male who can’t protect her children. On men, instead of muscles, their greatest weapon is right inside their skull.Do some research on the ketogenic diet. It completely changed my life with women, and it can change yours, too. Increases dopamine sensitivity so you'll want to socialize with people. No more feeling like its a chore. Serotonin and GABA, both responsible for feelings of confidence and calmness, are also increased/regulated. All thanks to ketones.Point taken: The shit you eat, matters.FAITH – WHAT IT REALLY IS, AND HOW TO GET ITThis is the most important point I will make in this post. Get ready to have your brain probed a little.Faith does not require religion. I repeat – faith does not require religion. You don’t have to believe in religion at all. In fact, if you think of doubt as a negative version of faith, then you more clearly understand what it is you’re doing in your head on a minute-by-minute basis. Approach anxiety, for example, is doubt. You might be imagining going up to a hot, sexy, beautiful girl in a purple dress and heels. You might imagine the girl throwing acid in your face in order to brush you off, or you think you’re as ugly as Steve Buschemi after getting run over in the face. Regardless of the matter, the scenario is negative. There is an imaginative, creative mind at work. Unfortunately, this mind is working against you, and you’re doing it unconsciously.The good news, however, is you can flip it through the power of conscious choice until it becomes ingrained in your mind. The following is a process I outlined on how we create our reality.Thought -> Faith -> Belief -> RealityAs you can see, faith is the bridge between thought and belief. Once a belief kicks in through REPETITION (this is the key, because you’re starting to create neuronal connections that exhibit confident behavior), you’ll begin to notice the world around you changing. Instead of conforming to the world and all its whims, the world will eventually conform to you through your unconscious behavior.Pay close attention:The most important thing in this world, regardless of all the content out there, is our human need for unconditional love. You cannot, under any circumstances, function at your best emotionally if you feel you do not matter. Sure, you can imagine an approach scenario going well (such as the girl in the purple dress), but if the root of all your issues with socializing/flirting stem from this one need, then we can focus on creating a reality where you feel unconditionally loved, not necessarily from one person or thing, but just to feel it. Some people may consider this madness.But if we as humans are nothing but our beliefs, then we are mad from the moment we are born?Thought, faith, belief, and reality are the keys to extreme and unwavering confidence.How to: Close your eyes. Get very relaxed, drowsy. Imagine yourself being loved by everyone and everything around you. Repeat voraciously for desired results.And that’s all there is to it, gentlemen. via /r/dating_advice