What’s The Void State Is Not😐😐💀😹

ACCEPT that it is simple, ACCEPT that it is easy

You are just struggling to find something because you don't accept that you have already found it and that it is already done.

The moment you accept that

> you don't need to affirm

> you don't need to believe

> you don't need to impress your subconscious

> you don't need methods

> you don't need more knowledge about

> you don't need to have another click

You only need the I AM (your consciousness) that is you, that is inside you. You only need to want and decide.

But how to decide? How to assume?

Live FROM it. and not for it.

What do you want? Decide.

Sp? Create your logical basis.

I AM perfect, I AM loved. Why? Because I exist. Because I want. Because I say so.

The basis is ready. STICK TO IT. And he/she has no choice but to correspond to that.

Why? Because you decided.

Money? create the logical basis.

I am worthy. I am abundant. I am valuable. Why? Because I exist. My existence is worth millions.

The basis is ready. STICK TO IT. And money has no choice but to come to you.

Why? Because you decided.

ACCEPT THAT IT IS SIMPLE AND EASY LIKE THIS, there are no "buts" and no "what ifs". Once you decided, in your imagination, created a basis logic for your ego ITS DONE. Let the magic of the law happens, but allow it.

Okay, so breaking my silence on my shift.

All I can literally say is that there's no right or wrong way to shift. it's just whatever you feel comfortable with doing. Whatever you think will work for you, it will trust me.

I genuinely felt like I couldn't shift, like everyone else could, that there was something about me that just wasn't letting me do so, and boy, was i wrong. That night, I said to myself, "Whatever happens, happens." And gave it one last go.

When you shift, you don't feel the shift. You feel nothing (unless you scripted something else, idk). It feels like waking up literally anywhere else, like you're at a sleepover or something.

You don't get overwhelmed with joy because you were already there anyway. I was shaken up for a bit, I can't lie. I was confused a lot because I just wasn't used to the area. Like I would like because it is weird just to wake up in a completely different place. And I will shaken up the whole day about it. I was like. I won't say I was freaking out, but I was zoning out like every 5 minutes. It's just like, what? like I was looking at my hands. I was in awe, but I wasn't at the same time.

The funniest thing is that it all felt natural. I didn't say affirmations. I didn't do a lot of things that usually help people. I just let it happen as I was going to sleep.

Literally it.

tower fics are so back baby

!! ALERT!!! WE HAVE A MAP LURKING AROUND IN THE LOA COMMUNITY!!!! !!

Today, I was minding my buisness until @racheldavis1 DMed me and started asking stuff like "are you a boy or a girl?" At first I ignored it but after it got more weird.

She started talking more about having kids and whatnot, to which I responded with I'm a minor. So of course, I asked if she was attracted to minors. And, well...

So, block this person immediately. Report them too. They've been lurking in the shifting community, I don't want anyone to be at risk here.

-Sonnet T

𐙚 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔 𐙚

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 ♡

౨ৎ 𝑨𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕.

౨ৎ 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕.

౨ৎ 𝑷𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒚.

౨ৎ 𝑬𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

౨ৎ 𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒃𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒕.

౨ৎ 𝑴𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 𝒗𝒔 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒐𝒓𝒚

౨ৎ 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

౨ৎ 𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈.

౨ৎ 𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚.

౨ৎ 𝑲𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈

"What’s that notion app on your phone?"

it’s literally the best feeling in the world

when you just finished one of the most beautiful fics ever written and you see that the author has a masterlist full of other fics

Every black girl is so pretty

*reblog if you agree*

excuse me...terf shifters? terf shifters have COMMUNITY? WTF

if you're in shiftblr and a terf, block me now. I don't want to see you on my dash again.

i need him in my life so fucking bad god please

got your heart in a headlock

aka soft secrets and domestic moments with jason todd

———

jason grew up in fire. all that he is and all he that knows is cigarette smoke and uncaged adrenaline. he never used to pretend to be something different, he knew what he was and he lived with that burden like he did any other. in the past, he never lied to himself, or let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be something else.

something good.

enter you, you who is good and whole and endlessly kind. you with lips full of sugar, arms full of warmth, and eyes full of love. you, who was made with starlight and wonder, who never looked at him like he was a bad dog, like you were capable of being bit. you, who is light and closeness and understanding. who loves him so deeply in a way he doesn’t deserve to be loved.

so when he comes home from his world of ash and blood, he becomes someone who wears your vanilla shampoo, just because he likes to smell like you. he becomes someone who has the time to watch cheesy romcoms and lengthy youtube videos, just because he gets to hold you in his arms. he becomes someone who sleeps in a bed with eight pillows and dozens of stuffed animals, because he can listen to your soft snores all night long. in your home (which you insist is his too), he is not made of jagged, broken edges, he is not unloveable, he is not a violent dog.

he starts to believe that your love could make him something beyond bloody knuckles and restless nights.

he’s your jason, and he thinks that’s all he wants to be. even if he’s not good at showing you how much he cares. even if he has trouble accepting that your kindness and goodness don’t come with ulterior motives or strings attached. even if he can’t be the guy he thinks you deserve, he still loves being your jason. it’s his duty more than his role, he lives to see you smile, to hold you in his arms on rough nights, to kiss you senseless. because you’ve given him a strange sort of hope that makes him believe he can be more than he is.

normally, you’re not able to sneak out of bed without waking him up. vigilantes senses and whatnot make him an infuriatingly light sleeper, but today was one of those rare mornings you managed to slip from his iron grasp and get up to pee without disturbing your sleeping beauty.

you take a second to watch him, smiling softly as his chest falls rhythmically while he breathes. you don’t often get to see him so peaceful, where his body isn’t tense with the weight of the world, his eyes don’t have that worried glare. you like that, at least in his moments of unconsciousness, he doesn’t feel so unfathomably stressed when he’s with you.

you gently close the bedroom door, making sure you’re quiet enough to not let your boyfriend continue to rest. once you hear the satisfying click of the door, you move to the kitchen, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

you turn on some soft music, ensuring that the volume is low enough as not to disturb jason’s sleep, as you work, pulling the ingredients from your pantry, preheating the oven. you crack three eggs into a small bowl, humming to yourself as you go through the motions. you don’t notice jason until he slips his arms around your waist, pulling a yelp from your throat.

he breathes you in, carefully smushing his nose into your hair. he’s so warm you think, you want to live a life in those arms, big and protective and a wonderful source of heat. “tell me i didn’t wake you up.” you wince, leaning back into his chest, looking up at him. he shakes his head, yawning.

“you didn’t, ma.” he says, sleep plaguing is voice. his obvious exhaustion not stopping him from smiling down at you. “what’re’ya making?” a twinge of an accent bleeds into his voice, the jersey he doesn’t care to hide so early in the morning, a part of him you revel in getting to hear.

you smile back, looking back down and continuing your work with the ingredients in front of you. “i’m baking a pie for mrs. lewitski downstairs.” you explain. “her cat just died.” you say, a small pout pushing at your lips.

jason shakes his head, frowning softly. “poor lady. can i help?” he asks, his voice twinging with empathy. he wonders if, before he met you, he would care about such a thing. if he would be the sort of person to sympathize with something as small as a cat funeral without your guiding hand.

you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he would.

you nod, pointing at a cutting board and a pile of granny smiths. “cut the apples.”

he nods, pressing a kiss against the tippy-top of your head before he pulls away, a goodbye that feels like torture. “yes ma’am.” he says, carefully taking a knife out of the knife block before heading over to his station.

neither of you talk, lost in the comfort of each other’s company. jason peels and cuts the apples with expert precision, you form the dough for the crust. it’s quiet little moments like these that make up a life together.

“jay?” you ask, after giving up on rolling out the particularly tough dough. “could you give me a hand?”

he looks up from the apples, of which he’s already almost finished (damn those vigilante skills), and gives you a nod. he sets down the knife, coming up behind you, pressing himself against your back.

“of course, baby.” he whispers into your ear, his teeth lightly sinking into your cartilage, just enough to make you shiver. he gently places his arms over yours, holding his calloused hands atop yours. he moves the rolling pin slowly back and forth, putting his strength into the dough.

he pushes dough slowly, his breath hot against your neck. “like this?” he asks, once the dough gets thin enough. again, you shiver, his voice sending little waves through your spine.

“little thinner.” you say, leaning back into him.

“little thinner.” he hums, his voice a low mumble in your ear.

jason todd grew up in fire, he was born in it. but that fire makes him emit a pleasant warmth that you can’t live without. it makes his touch burn against your skin, sending electric shots through your body. it makes him the only person you’ve ever wanted to come home too, the only person you’ve ever been capable of loving, the only person you could ever love. his warmth was made for you, a cocoon of his fire you can only pray surrounds you for as long as you live.

he continues rolling, until he gets the crust rolled just right. truthfully, you extended the moment a little more than necessary, lightly instructing just a bit more, oh wait, can you make it thicker? to allow yourself to bask in the fire a second longer. you can feel a knowing smile pressing into your head, noting how he does move ever-so-slightly slower in service to you.

once he’s done, he pulls away, his hand trailing against your waist, lingering in the small of your back for a second longer than he likely should. he goes back to chopping the apples, humming with a small smile on his face. you too continue your task, making a sugar mixture to pour over the cubed granny smiths.

eventually, you both finish, and he helps you pour the apple-brown-sugar mixture into the dough-lined pie tins he helped you make. his hands are surprisingly gentle with the pasty. you didn’t realize that he was scared of ruining something as delicate and beautiful as something your hands were benevolent enough to create. but he would do whatever you asked, even if he was unsure why you would want his help. he doesn’t create, he destroys.

“can you press a fork against the edges, like this?” you ask, demonstrating how he could press both ends of the pies together. he simply nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he carefully took the silver from your hands. “i’ll check the oven.”

you pull back and open the oven, sticking your hand into the scorching air to test its temperature, earning a small frown from jason. you quickly close the door and turn back to him, moving across the kitchen. your hands slide around his waist, meeting just below his belly button. you lean up, pressing your head into the back of his neck, planting a small kiss against his spine.

“you’re good at that.” you say, watching as he works.

“yeah?” he mumbles, a soft smile on his face. he doesn’t quite believe he’s doing less harm than good, but he likes the reward he’s getting for it.

“i should make you my official pie-presser.” you respond, placing another kiss against his neck.

“i’d be honored.”

“you should be.”

“you’re making it a bit hard for me to focus, ma.” he says, shivering as you kiss him again and again, making sure to breath him in.

you smile against his skin. “i only need you to focus until we put these in the oven.” you mumble seductively, breathing hot air into his ear.

he pauses, stiff and still for an entire moment, before his shoulders drop and he returns to work like a man possessed. you squeeze yourself into him, breathing in his scent- a mix of irish spring and leather.

he only moves to put the pies in the oven, giving your arm a squeeze before he pulls away. “how long?” he asks, his fingers brushing over the keypad on the oven timer.

“twenty-five minutes.” you say, leaning back against the countertop. he presses the buttons carefully, before making his way back to you.

he smiles, not just with his mouth, but with those piercing blue eyes you can’t seem to tear yourself away from. his hair, messy from sleep, falls a bit in his face and, well, it’s your job to push it back. once he gets close enough to dip his head down, your hands are all over him, one against his forehead, smoothing his hair, and the other trailing down his arm.

“you’re my favorite helper.” you say, as he leans closer, a grin forming from the smile that had such a hold on his lips.

without warning, his hands slip on the bottoms of your thighs, and he hoists you up on the counter, eliciting a yelp from you.

“jay!” you exclaim, giggling. you spread your legs just enough to make room for him, letting him lean in, placing your arms against his shoulders. he’s wearing a shit-eating grin, but looking up at you with stars in his eyes.

“you didn’t think all that help was for free, did you?” he says, moving closer, his lips a breath away from yours. you playfully roll your eyes, but you can’t suppress the smile on your face, or the red that dusts your cheeks.

“and what exactly do i owe you?” you ask, raising a brow.

he leans in closer, his lips taking yours. for a moment, all you are is jason, all you can and ever want to be is a person that he loves. his lips crash against yours, in a perfectly soft rhythm that you two have learned to follow with each other. passion isn’t a word intense enough to describe a kiss like this, especially when compared to the loveless kisses you’ve given your past partners.

this is love.

neither of you want to pull away, but you do. something so good means eventually you’ll have to come up for air.

“y’know, we’ve got—“ jason pulls his head back, checking the oven timer. “—twenty minutes and fifty three seconds before you have to take out the pies.” he points out, his eyes darting back to yours with a mischievous sort of grin. “why not make the most of them.”

you giggle a little bit, like he’s not your jason and you haven’t been in love with him all this time. it’s ridiculous your boyfriend of a year has such an effect on you still, but here you are, a blushing mess of a woman, infatuated with the man in front of you.

“and how would you suppose we do that?” you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

his grin spreads across his face, and before you can think to do more than flash your dopey smile, he pulls his hands under your ass and picks you up, holding you against him.

you yelp again, giggling as he pulls you closer. your legs wrap around his waist, and your arms meet at his middle back. he smiles up at you, pressing a chaste kiss against your smile, before moving you towards the bedroom, sucking a soft kiss against your neck.

the secret you keep from jason, only because you know he wouldn’t believe you if you dared confess it, is that he is inherently good. yes, he was forged in fire, tossed around by a universe with little care for his happiness or his safety. you’re not sure how he hasn’t realized that that’s what makes him a good man, a man who cares about cat funerals and revels in making you feel warm and loved. you know that he credits you with his goodness, that you’re the reason he loves and deserves to be love, and if he needs you to be that reason, you’ll do it proudly. but jason is good beyond you, a man with unwavering character. that’s why you love him so.