#currently fingers are in pain

[th3archivisst]

thinking about good omens swap au,,,,,

with my personal headcanons implemented and keeping it as in character for both as possible

headcanons mentioned are: crowley as lucifer and the metatron was the decision maker about his fall

this is just a rough overview of the au, i'll try and write a fic about it soon but yeahh

GO2 SPOILERS AHEAD

How Azi became a demon

In the beginning, when Aziraphale introduces himself to Lucifer (i'll be calling Crowley that cuz he never gets his demon name in this au), Luci tells him his name too. So Aziraphale knows this is literally God's favorite angel and Oh Shit That's Important. So, when the Metatron finds out about Lucifer's questioning and decides to cast him out, Aziraphale steps up. He takes the blame on himself, says he was the one who talked to Lucifer about it and he was actually the one asking questions. Why he does this? Because he can't imagine how heaven would live on without one of its most important angels, so he's willing to sacrifice himself for that. The Metatron believes the lie and Aziraphale falls in Lucifer's stead, taking on the name of Zerael.

Garden of Eden meeting

After Zerael's fall, Lucifer tries to argue with the Metatron a bit. He gives up pretty quickly because he doesn't want Zerael's fall to go to waste, but he still gets demoted as a result. So he's now on apple tree duty. Meanwhile, Zerael gets appointed to be the original tempter, taking the form of a black swallow (cuz yk swallows are symbols of good luck but black isn't eh whatever you'll see). Lucifer gets the flaming sword as a sort of cruel joke from heaven, Gods former favorite now needs a sword for protection. He (of course) gives it to Eve, he doesn't actually need it and she definitely does. When the two meet on the wall, it's a bit awkward. Lucifer is immediately happy and greets Zerael by his angelic name, causing Zee to have a bit of a shut down. He tries to act all demonic and mean, but ends up asking how Lucifer is doing in heaven. Luci kind of skirts around the topic. "Oh, you know, the usual celestial harmonies and whatnot". Zee isn't an idiot, he asks why Luci's on apple tree duty if everything's fine. Luci tells him he's been demoted but it's nothing to worry about. "Really, it's more interesting now! I get to see more than just white walls all the time". Wing shelter thingy but Zee tries to do it first, getting burned by holy rain in the process because bird brain so Luci shelters him instead.

General stuff now that the backstory is over with

(I'll get into the flashback scenes in a different post, my fingers are starting to hurt lmao)

Zerael changes his name Zirael, which literally means 'swallow' (according to wikipedia)

Zee still opens a bookshop, he loves books and food just as much and explains it to the Dark Council as getting to know human pleasures to tempt them better

Luci still has the Bentley. Just this time it's white. He bought it black but heaven didn't like it so he miracled it white. It still plays Queen automatically because it's the only way Luci can show off his chaos.

Luci still has houseplants, but he treats them well. Why? Because he can't keep them up to heaven's standards, not after Zee fell to save him. Instead of torturing the plants, he treats them like how he thinks Zee should've been treated. Leaf spots are fine, imperfections are okay. The plants are the most beautiful in London, and also the happiest.

The Arrangement is still the same, only Zee proposed it because he's still in denial about falling and wants any excuse to do something good. Luci agrees, because he wants a chance to rebel without anyone noticing.

Nicknames!!! Zee calls Lucifer 'Luci' (Lucy) and ,of course, Angel, while Lucifer calls Zirael 'Zee' and 'birdbrain' when telling him he's an idiot.

Features! So I know we get the Angel!Crowley eyes in s2, but i like to think he still has to wear sunglasses cuz when the sun catches his eyes they turn molten gold :]

Zee's eyes go from blue to black, easy enough to pass off as very dark brown. His hair stays the same though, it just never turned darker. He says the sulfur bleached it. Is that true? Probably not.

Zee is very very jumpy, his eyes are always flicking around and he's barely ever relaxed. Luci on the other hand is mostly calm, except when something goes wrong. Then he uses every swear word known to mankind that doesn't involve blasphemy because he doesn't wanna get scolded by head office.

Dynamic

Zee is a lot more flirty than Aziraphale. His time as a demon has taught him some Things™️. He still very persistently believes in the system, though it's easier to pick apart his resolve when you point out that he fell because he thought the system was unfair to Lucifer. Luci is the opposite, not sure how to respond to the flirting and getting very tongue tied (ngk.). He is however very willing to finally cut ties with heaven, which means Paradox. Zee keeps trying to convince Luci to stay in heaven, Luci keeps trying to convince Zee to Go Off Together. Zee terrified of consequences, Luci bored out of his skull with heaven's monotony. The only reason he stays is because he remembers Zee's sacrifice. He knows that Zirael didn't want to fall. He did it so Lucifer wouldn't have to.

This makes the season two finale oh so interesting HEHEHEHHEHGEHGEGEH

Lucifer gets the proposition to return to his position as Supreme Archangel, for things to go back to how they were before he was demoted. He, naturally, tells the Metatron exactly where he could stick it. Zee gets mad about this because Lucifer could make heaven better! He could make the system better, prevent anyone from falling without reason ever again. Luci gets pissed because he's been complaining about heaven to Zee for thousands of years and now that just means nothing??? he should go back?????? because of a broken system? But he doesn't mention that the Metatron told him he could restore Zirael. When he finally yells it out at the end of their arguement, right before the kiss, Zee freezes and stares at him. Lucifer realized. Oh shit. This is the one thing he's wanted more than life on earth for all this time. And i'm refusing him it, although it's my fault he lost it in the first place.

Zee won't ask him to go to heaven if he so clearly doesn't want to, definitely not now. Luci kisses him as an attempt to apologize, it's gentle and Zee doesn't push back but he also doesn't respond. At all. He just turns away and starts organizing his books. Just as Lucifer is about to leave, tears in his eyes, Zee says, very quietly; "If you won't do your job, I'd better start doing mine."

The next day, Lucifer comes back with a whole apology script written. He doesn't find Zee there. Instead he finds a random guy from a bookshop that closed a couple months ago.

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

Ed injury headcanon time: Ed doesn't tend to complain about pains even when they're very bad, and he's so practiced at pushing through that he looks so functional that most people don't realise he's hurting.

He is however unable to deal with itching. Mosquito bites drive him mad, and healing injuries hitting the itchy stage make him grumpy and thinking he'd rather be in pain again because the itching is unbearable. He whines more about the itching than he ever does about any pain. Stede is very helpful and understanding, of course, and tries to distract Ed by doting on him as if he was still going through unimaginable agonies (he is, in Ed's opinion).

[a-very-fond-farewell]

it was tendOnitis all along???? travesty

[seraphim-soulmate]

hey tumblr. i got a fumngking oaperr cut :((( From my frozen meal I bought to feed myself (being brave while in depressive episode and feeding myself balanced meals)

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The thing that sucks about knowing the context for a popular ship redraw meme or incorrect quote is watching people be so so incorrect about it and just having to sit there, gripping your thigh, reminding yourself of your values

My personal problem is the quote from "Everything Everywhere All At Once": "In another life I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you"

Because every day EVERY DAY even with ships I love, I watch people use it as a "Oh my god isn't it so tragic that these two characters are forced to suffer the horrors or to be ripped apart when in their heart of hearts they want to be living domestically and doing laundry and taxes?"

And I have to sit there and think "No no you don't get it! That line wasn't the tragedy of the characters not having a better life where they can just be together. It's a different kind of tragedy! The main character didn't like her normal Chinese immigrant life of running a laundromat and dealing with taxes and her family in the USA. Once she learned about all of these different worlds, she began to feel even more like her current life was one that she didn't want. In fact, this life where the guy said that popular line was one where she chose not to go to the USA with him to build a life and love together and became a famous actress instead. She has been thinking about how her husband truly held her down and stifled her life. How if she hadn’t chosen him she wouldn't have had to deal with him and her life would be better and more exciting. And so she's talking to this alternate version of her husband who never became her husband, and she starts making a case for why this is the best outcome. After all, who would want to live in a laundromat and do taxes when she can be a movie star and have anyone she wants? And this is when he tells her that that life that she rejects, that she feels is lowly and one that no one would want, is something that he wants. He doesn't care that she's a famous actress now, he would have loved to just live a simple life with her, even if it was hard and taxing. And this moment in the movie is so so many things (things I'm not even doing justice to here), but it is also a major moment that highlights the disparity in these two characters (even if one isn't her og husband) and their desires.

The main character feels trapped in her life and that she never lived up to her potential. Her husband truly would want to be with her simply because of the bits where it isn't exciting. Even if they're poor and suffer hardship and do things considered simple and lowly, he would still like that life with her.

So yes every time I see this meme my brain screams "get out of here with your blorbos in an au who tragically can't live normally and domestically. Bring in your blorbos who love(d) each other and are messy and are on the verge of divorce and want different things in life, who have to make a choice in what to do about it. Give me your "person who feels trapped in this small life and wanted bigger and better things who lowkey resents the other who is just supporting them" x "person who understands this life isn't always easy or glamorous but is glad that they get to do it every day with this person, who would choose a life of love with them no matter what"

[aropride]

also my pinky finger hurts and i think its from holding my phone all the time with the popsocket. humans werent meant to live like this man and yet here i am.living like this

[engagemythrusters]

Fabric softener is for the weak, the ones who can't handle life's little discomforts. You know who uses fabric softener? People who can't face reality. Real men and women don't need their clothes to smell like a field of daisies. We don't need our towels to feel like a baby's bottom. We face challenges head-on, unafraid of a little roughness.

Fabric softener is a scam, a marketing ploy designed to make you believe your life will be better if your clothes are softer. But guess what? Life isn't soft. Life is hard, it's tough, and it's unforgiving. If you can't handle the rough texture of your jeans, how are you going to handle this cutthroat world?

And let's talk about the environmental impact. Fabric softeners are loaded with chemicals that pollute our waterways, harm marine life, and contribute to the destruction of our planet. Is your soft towel worth destroying the environment? I don't think so.

Real success doesn't come from a bottle of fabric softener. It comes from hard work, determination, and a willingness to face challenges without needing everything to be soft and easy. So put down that fabric softener, embrace the rough edges of life, and start living like a real champion.

... I wasn't using fabric softener... The blankets come sold that way. I'm making tie-blankets for the humane society...

[iamtheshriekingguineapig]

Something I learned in the year of our Lord, 2024 is that apparently the normal amount of daily joint pain you're supposed to have in your mid to late 20's is actually zero.

[snazzy-serpent]

Con O'Neill, Kristian Nairn & Nathan Foad are all gonna be at London MCM Comic Con and are doing a panel!???!!!!?!?!?!?!?

Istg every time that trio do a panel/interview/etc its always the most batshit insane thing

[philcoulsonismyhero]

Spent this last week tired and in pain and I want to draw about it, but unfortunately aforementioned condition of being tired and in pain makes drawing impossible, so I guess I just have to suffer instead. Why this.

[citrine-elephant]

so much on my mind about this shit job, but i just love (sarcastically) that if you're to be exercising, you MUST build up to it, 'less you cause injury. because you can and will if your body isn't ready. if you do 100 pushups first time.... you're a prodigy of exercise and you're probably gonna burn out if you're not suffering alreadt.

yet a desperate fucker who needs a job to survive? nah, 7 hours of exercise each day all week? yep, that's reasonable. totally (further sarcasm)

you never worked out before? too bad, get back to work. make us more money. fill my pockets and fund my sixty mansions. (eat the rich, comrades, they are nothing without our labour)

[singlethread]

.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

*rattling the bars of my cage and screaming*

I WANT TO TAKE CARE OF MY HEALTH I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO ASK FOR HELP IN A WAY THAT WILL LET ME BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY

[sttoru]

ahh i just cant stop thinking of sukuna's fav concubine getting injured from the other concubines but she hides it because shes scared of being weak (in sukuna's eyes) and/or a burden ☹️☹️

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. fluff, sprinkle of angst n comfort. size difference. reader gets called ‘brat, woman, little one’ — ig this is a bit early in their relationship

“i’ve arrived, my lord,” you announce your presence once you step into sukuna’s quarters. the dimly lit room removed all the stress you currently had in your system—the knowledge that you’re safe in his space causes your shoulders to drop.

sukuna turns his head to look at you while he’s laid back on his bed, topless. all four of his eyes roam over your body, which isn’t anything unusual for you. he always does that.

“tch. took ya long enough,” the king of curses scoffs before gesturing for you to come closer, making that familiar motion with his fingers, “when i order y’ to come, you’re supposed to drop everything and rush to be at my service, woman.”

you hurry over to his side of the bed with a nod. “my apologies,” you mutter. you can’t tell him why you’re late, because hell would break loose within these walls. and also because you’re scared of what his reaction would be.

before being called over, you were in the kitchen, peacefully trying to get a snack, when two other concubines entered the room. you tried ignoring them, but that didn’t seem to be the smartest move. it wasn’t long before they threw derogatory remarks at you.

of course, you stood up for yourself and yelled some back. that’s when one of them pushed you backwards, causing the skin near your hand to get slightly burned by the fire on the stove.

if it weren’t for the maids around that went to report the ruckus to uraume, god knows what more would have went down in that kitchen.

“oi,” sukuna grabs your jaw and lifts your head up. he can immediately notice the vacant look in your eyes, which is unusual for you. you snap out of your trance and set the nasty memories aside—ignoring the impulse to scratch the injury on your wrist.

“i’m sorry, my lord,” you say again before slowly undoing your obi. you figure that is why sukuna had called you over, to do your job as his concubine. you halt your movements when you realise that undressing meant that he’s going to see the wound on your skin.

you hesitate. that same instant of hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed by the king of curses. a large hand of his moves to stop both of your wrists from pulling off your robes.

“. . .i’m giving y’ three seconds of my time,” sukuna narrows his eyes after allowing you to speak up and tell him what’s on your mind. he hears you whimper in pain when he holds onto your wrist, your facial expression clearly uncomfortable. “spit it out,” he impatiently huffs. he wants to hear you say what’s wrong.

you desperately shake your head, biting your bottom lip. you don’t want to tell him—even though you know you’re obligated to.

denying an answer to sukuna was your next big mistake.

“fuckin’ brat,” the pink-haired man grunts. he yanks your arms up to his face, harshly pulling down the sleeves of your kimono. all four of his red eyes immediately fall onto the wound on your wrist. you obviously hadn’t treat it yet, even though you should have done so long ago.

there’s tension hanging in the air almost instantly after your little secret gets revealed. sukuna’s grip on your hands tightens which causes you to flinch. you close your eyes and expect the worst. you can already hear the insults he’ll throw at you—how he’ll call you useless, weak, stupid and all that.

“look up at me,” his voice rings out in a firm tone. you don’t want to anger him more than he already is, so you obey. you open your eyes and glance upwards, your worried gaze meeting his.

sukuna takes a deep breath to contain the bubbling rage inside of him; a rare sight indeed. he doesn’t want to unnecessarily lash out at you when it isn’t needed. however, he can’t deny that itching urge in his chest, to get mad at whoever caused your skin to get tainted like that.

sukuna stares at you with an intimidating glare. when you expect him to yell profanities at you, the unexpected happens.

“who did this to you?” he asks, voice strained like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you blink a few times. the king of curses sounds pissed off, and when he’s in that kind of mood, you know he’s not to be played with. you look the other way and try to think of a proper answer.

will you snitch and cause unnecessary bloodbath, or will you spare the lives of the concubines who hurt you and lie?

you’re scared of being seen as useless by sukuna if you tell him the truth. if you lie, he’ll probably call you weak and stupid as well. it’s a lose-lose situation, you conclude.

you swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth before parting your lips.

“m-miko,” her name echoes in his ears. you decide to be honest, because you know that there’s no fooling the ryomen sukuna. a second of silence follows and when you look up at him, he stares back at you with furrowed brows.

“ah,” you then realise that he doesn’t know his concubines by name. he has way too many women at his disposal and doesn’t find them worthy enough to remember.

however you have heard from uraume and the others that he does know your name—only yours. it makes you feel special.

you try to describe the concubine you’ve tussled with, “s-short blonde hair, uhm, mole under her right eye.. brown colored eyes—“

sukuna thinks for a moment before clicking his tongue once he faintly remembers who that’s supposed to be. without a word, he stands up and wraps one muscular arm around your waist, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you under his armpit like some package.

“uraume!”

his voice is loud enough to make the walls shake and it carries a clear hint of pure rage. everyone in the estate should have heard him by now, which means that they know what is going down in a couple seconds.

sukuna sounding this angry only means one thing; someone is going to die today.

the servants hurriedly scurry around, deeply bowing as he walks past them in the hallway with you still tucked underneath his arms. you let yourself be carried while your heart beats uncontrollably fast in your chest.

you feel your hands shake a bit. seeing someone like sukuna be this mad for your sake—to the point that he’s ready to turn the entire area upside down—is somehow thrilling. though, you can’t help but feel sick because of your own thoughts.

someone is going to die and there you are, cheesing about the king of curses.

you see the white-haired chef appear from a corner, their steps hurried. they glance at you and then back at their master. it’s like they immediately connect the dots.

“treat her in my quarters. don’t let her leave until i come back,” sukuna commands without even looking at uraume. he’s staring ahead, with an ominous aura emitting from his body, one that somebody can sense from miles away.

he puts you down next to uraume before glancing your way one last time. he lets out a deep sigh as he sees the worried expression you’re making. he lowers his head to your level so you’d be face to face.

“and you,” his warm breath hits your cheeks and sends a shiver down your spine. you gulp as sukuna’s hand reaches up to firmly tug at your earlobe, “i’ll deal with your ass later, yeah? i’ll make you feel what it means to hide stuff from me, little one.”

that sentence makes you even more nervous. you know you won’t be able to avoid the punishment sukuna has in mind, so you simply nod. “understood,” you reply in a squeaky voice. you don’t have the guts to disobey him—he’s already out to kill someone and you don’t want to be the next victim.

sukuna straightens his back again and continues his journey towards the concubines’ quarters. every heavy step makes the floors and walls shake, a sign of his unstoppable rage that’s about to be unleashed.

you feel slightly puzzled. you didn’t expect this outcome when you revealed your injury to the ruthless man. you expected to be belittled and mocked for not being able to prevent a wound from being inflicted on your body.

instead, there he goes, off to get revenge in your stead. you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction after seeing sukuna be this protective over you. actions like these demonstrate more than his dull words can do, even if it may seem like he doesn’t care about what could happen to a human like you.

[sheeezu]

Yes, this is a new account, I just made this. I don't care if people question the authenticity of my post, my experience as a shifter, or whatever I'm about to say.

I don't know how to use Tumblr, nor do I know how to make my post reach people who need it, nor would I be a narcissist and say "you're lucky if you found my post!" I don't mind if this reaches an audience or not, I'm glad to get everything off my chest.

Yes. I've shifted.

I have shifted realities, more times than I can count on my fingers, and that is for a very specific reason, which I'll explain later.

I'm writing this because I'm about to permashift, and no, I won't hear out any antishifters or people who don't like permashifting in general, I don't care about your opinion so don't waste my time.

Before I start, I'd like to say one thing:

I was irrational minded, I lacked belief in myself and shifting. Shifting often times felt like a chore more than a fun activity, and i have to admit, it became an unhealthy habit.

So? Why did I mention this?

Because I had been lurking around shifting communities and I realised everyone feels like this, a very (mentally) painful feeling where the lack of shifts starts acting as your biggest enemy, and the phrase:

"Shifting needs practice!"

Sounds like poison when it comes from an experienced shifter.

Though, is the phrase actually true?

No, not at all.

Shifting does not need practice!!

Here's why:

(BTW, I will explain my "method", no matter if I have time or not. Also, I don't call this reality "Current Reality", instead I call it Void reality, so don't get confused.)

The "practice" you're doing is only affecting your void reality (taking time out of your day, making you constantly think you're in your learning phase, so it doesn't exactly lead to your desired reality, does it?)

Of course, if you view it as a skill, it will in some way act like that, it'll become a skill for you, and you can never succeed on your first, second, third, hundredth try, because in your brain you have registered the fact that shifting is this grand, universal task, and that it is very difficult (because its common sense that you practice difficult things to get good at them)

Practice is a very humane and earthly act, if people have succeeded doing just practice, then good for then, they're right in their own way, but it didn't work for me, and in my opinion it's the worst way to view shifting, and often times it is demotivating, and you'll mess up you're entire journey.

Shifting is not a skill, shifting is a universal law.

I'll become more clear as I explain my journey:

My journey:

I found shifting from a random YouTube video 3 years ago. I might have only said cool and moved along.

A year later something traumatic happened in my life, which shook me so badly I needed an escape.

First of all, I chose astral projecting, but I realised I was too much of a coward to do so.

Then I came towards shifting, first DR was very typical, it was Hogwarts.

Having no knowledge whatsoever in the topics of spirituality, meditation, I went straight to methods, because they were like guides for me, I was very inexperienced, of course, and looked at other people and what they were doing for guidance.

Alice in wonderland method didn't do much, raven method was too uncomfortable (side note, all this raven method does is make you too focused on your void reality, cmon, in your DR are you laying down like a starfish?) And I was having terrible trouble with my intrusive thoughts (which made the floor disappear from under my feet, made the stairs for the stairs method too short to climb or straight up made them dissappear as well)

I didn't have any luck that year, no mini shifts, no lucid dreams, or sleep paralysis. And my DRs never remained constant. They always changed on a daily basis.

I was big on methods, I couldn't realize they never worked for me.

Although, this year of failure led me to finally figure out where I belonged.

A DR made out of scratch, which I spend much effort in putting the pieces of it together.

The DR, which was called "Home reality" really made me feel settled in my journey.

LOA, and the consciousness theory were the leading factors which made me shift.

And don't worry, it isn't what you're tired of being told, I didn't just apply any orthodox definition of LOA and succeeded.

Background to my first shift:

It was a particularly stressful day, I really missed my home.

I was studying at my college (I still am, but...) and I was dreading giving a chemistry test, I did not prepare. In my mind, one thing was constantly looping in my head.

The scenario of the chemistry teacher coming in, and taking the test, and the next day I get it handed back with a big fat zero.

But then I stopped and wondered, having already known about the consciousness theory, so according to it:

"I am constantly letting this thought run in my mind, and constantly letting this reality dictate what happens next."

Basically, I realized what was about to happen next was indirectly in my control, but with my line of thinking, I was letting this reality control it directly.

I stopped, like actually stopped thinking.

And with a blank mind I thought.

"I won't have to take any test today."

And went around telling my classmates this with a confident tone.

The teacher came in, said we'll instead do some practicals in lab.

So the test got cancelled.

Going home, I got excited, i felt powerful.

I decided to apply this to shifting.

Before shifting, I took a nap during the day, (if you're tired your body insists on sleeping, so your mind will get hazy and you will start acting lazy towards your goal)

And after living how I normally would, before bedtime, I listened to some songs, and look at a Pinterest board which reminded me of my home reality.

My method and what happened next:

First phase of shifting:

When I laid down on the bed to start shifting, I first got comfy (for me, if I feel sleepy for some reason, I laid on my back, I can't fall asleep in that position, but if I think ill stay awake until I reach a "detached state" then I sleep on my side, it's comfortable)

I obviously wasn't checking the time, but I spent about 10 minutes getting relaxed, all I do to relax is:

a) look at the blackness (closed eyes, looks like starry skies) and try to believe I'm looking at the milky way.

b) think about my home reality, just faces of my loved ones, and nostalgia inducing images.

c) Affirm, but don't focus entirely on affirming, usually in the back of my mind I'm repeating "I have shifted to my home reality" "I have shifted my senses to my home reality" "I have stopped sensing the void reality" "I am smelling, tasting, feeling, hearing and seeing my home reality" no other fancy affirmations required. (Now that I think about it, you need to affirm NOW because this method has two phases, one where you are shifting, and one where you have shifted, and you are in the 3D, where you are occupying your DR self, their thoughts, and memories, and popular method usually only have one phase, either you are shifting, or have shifted. So my point is if you affirm later and you'll be affirming when you're supposed to be in your DR, and obviously, your DR self won't be spouting out affirmations about shifting to a random reality for no reason.)

During this time, you'll feel tingly all over. It's a good sign.

And you'll feel a certain detachment, like you aren't exactly here, you have no idea what position you're lying in, and where your feet are. (Please, for the love of God do not start counting your feet or get freaked out that you can't feel your leg, you'll come back to the void reality.)

So you can start the next phase.

Middle phase (optional):

To prepare for the next and last phase, you can do this to get ready, or don't (First read the third phase)

This is all about connection to your DR.

Think about memories from your DR, focus on the faces of your loved ones, the way you act, talk, your mannerisms in your DR, or you can simply say affirmations like these one:

My name is ___.

I work as a ___.

My age is ___.

Don't try to imagine vividly or anything, lightly touch upon the basic details of your DR, the construction and foundation of any reality and the person, who has existed there for their entire life.

(That's you!)

Phase three:

Take a sudden, abrupt stop from your stream of thoughts. (Yes intrusive thoughts will still pop up but don't give any importance to them) when you're in a blank state of mind, not longer than 30 seconds, you need to build up to the last step of your shifting method, and journey.

a) start imagining hearing the voices of your loved ones or just any voice, calling your DR name, your nicknames, with different tones. (For example, i heard my name in an angry tone from my father when he was scolding me, I heard my name followed by a laughter when my S/O teased me.)

OK, for me, I started feeling intense, groundshaking symptoms at this moment. Sudden flashing of lights, extreme feeling of floating, and ofcourse, feeling tingliness so much that it felt like pins and needle on my entire body. (I did ignore the symptoms)

b) plan the rest of your day in your DR, which you will be spending.

AGAIN, PLEASE DON'T SAY IT LIKE THIS.

❌️When I reach my DR ❌️ I will have to go to that eye specialist for that appointment.

Instead: (and the more you personalize it, the better)

Ughhh, I have to go to that appointment- this day will suck.

(Don't mind my example, that was the only thing I could think of at the moment)

c) in this reality, you are constantly thinking of something, your thoughts are definitely what constructs this reality, and your current thoughts are affecting your subconscious. (By this point, your subconscious is grounded in your DR, so don't worry about that bastard.)

Now, you're going to start thinking, thoughts which are going on in your DR self's mind, start with one sentence, with which you'll be able to start consciously thinking like your DR self.

And think in the style, tone, and mood of your DR self, and keep the thoughts strictly related to your DR.

Thats it, but what happens afterwards? And what happened to me?

So for me, I started feeling weird while I was thinking.

And I remember I thought this:

"Ugh, I don't want eggs for breakfast."

(I'm not saying this is the key to shifting, at this point, I had covered various topics, including, weather, my upcoming work assignment, and praised my S/O for a good 5 minutes.)

And I started panting, like suddenly I was trying to catch my breath, the room felt bright, so I opened my eyes, and well, I was in my home reality :)

I was delirious for a few second, my S/O was looking at me worriedly, but surprisingly, it didn't even take me a minute to adjust, it felt all so natural and I wasn't scared.

I didn't even feel emotional, at all, and didn't hug my S/O with tears in my eyes, I straight up asked to be served breakfast, incase anyone was wondering.

So that's it.

Although i have much to say, I'm tired of writing, but I'm more than willing to answer each and every one of your questions, although I only have 7 hours left till I permashift, I'll remain mostly active till then.

And no, I'm not rereading this to fix my grammar, so just ask if anything confused you.

Ask away.

I'm still not sure if this'll reach anyone or not.

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Chapter 1.1: Unfamiliar.

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Gavriel Huffman’s consciousness drifted back in pieces, slowly. The first sensation he registered was the pain. A throbbing, burning ache in his side that shot throughout his body with each ragged breath he took. His hand twitched reflexively, wanting to clutch at the wound, but his limbs felt heavy, sluggish.

He groaned, eyelids fluttering open before having to close them as his blurry vision was assaulted by the bright sunlight peaking through the cracks of the window blinds. Gavriel winced, turning his head slightly to escape the light. The movement sent another jolt of pain lancing through his body making him grit his teeth. The pain, though familiar, was sharper now, less numbed by adrenaline.

His instincts screamed at him to assess his surroundings, and with great effort, he forced his unsteady vision to focus. What he saw made him slightly more awake with disoriented alarm.

The room was cozy. Unbearably so. The walls had warm tones of colors that made the room feel welcoming. The bed he laid on was draped in a checkered quilt with a few stitches here and there. It wasn't as feathery soft or as luxurious as the one he had back in his place, but the worn down cheap quality of it only made them feel more homely in comparison. The air was filled with a subtle, comforting scent, and the one Gavriel noticed immediately was the smell of baked goods.

It was the kind of room he had only ever seen through windows in neighborhoods he didn’t belong in.

Gavriel’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening. He didn’t belong here. The dissonance between his bleak, gritty world and this gentle, almost absurd comfort was jarring. It made his head spin, not just from the pain.

He hadn't been thinking very clearly then, but he could vaguely recall memories of the rain and the blood soaking into his clothes and him collapsing into unconsciousness, but everything after that was a blur. How had he ended up here?

Where the hell was he? His hand felt heavy as he reached up to touch the wound in his side, and he was surprised to find it wrapped in bandages. The dressing was hastily done.

He pushed the blanket aside, revealing his current state. His torso was bare, the bandages wrapped tight around his injury, and he was wearing pants that definitely weren’t his. The worn, clean fabric was more snug than anything he’d ever put on.

He frowns at this. Gavriel didn’t trust kindness. It's a luxury reserved for people who hadn’t been forced to scrape and claw their way through life.

With a grunt, he forced himself upright, teeth gritting as another wave of pain rippled throughout his body. He braced himself on the nightstand, the wooden surface creaking under his grip, and scanned the room for any signs of danger.

His eyes landed on a small framed photo on the nightstand. It showed a cheerful looking man with a wide goofy smile and a thumbs-up, standing next to… what he assumes to be his family, accompanied with a clean and comfortable-looking set of clothing sitting there waiting for him to wear alongside his glasses.

He reached out for it, seating the frame on his nose bridge and ears. Gavriel turned to squint at the image, something tugging in his head as he tried to place the face of that male toon. Then his mind flashed to the moment before he went unconscious. Someone had crouched down beside him when he was dying in that alleyway.

But why? The idea that someone had helped him, patched up a criminal covered in blood, was almost laughable. People didn’t do that for him- for them. At least, not in the place where he belongs.

Currently though, that wasn't his main concern. His dark eyes narrowed. Where the hell was his gun?

His fingers instinctively moved to his waist, but the comfort of the cold metal wasn't there. Gavriel sighed as a familiar wave of dullness washed over him, pulling him in a state of rumination. He was still hurt, still vulnerable, and that meant he was in danger, no matter how deceptively safe this place looked. He clenched his fists, not even giving a wince at the painful ache in his body.

All of this made him feel rather numb and confused, but it doesn't show on his face which he'd trained to never waver even in danger.

The dull ache of his wounds, the confusion of being in this unsettlingly mellow room, and the disorientation of having just woken up alive when he very well should've been dead in an alleyway somewhere. It all pressed down on him heavily. His mind felt like it was wrapped in fog, every thought coming in with a painful throb. He tried to think, to piece together why he hadn’t bled out in that alley.

He knew that his injuries had been severe enough to be fatal, the kind of wounds that left little hope for survival. A few hasty bandages and dressings wouldn’t have done much to stop the life bleeding out of his dying body.

Yet here he was, hurting but very much still alive. He rubbed his forehead, the motion sluggish from pain as he racked his brain for an answer. It wasn’t until he sat there for a hot minute that realization struck.

Oh, right. He was in a city reigned by the Toon genre.

It was common knowledge to all that the Toons leaned heavily on the whimsical side, or more specifically, it was the environment itself that exuded this sort of vitality. One that let its residents survive otherwise fatal mishaps with only a moment’s comedic daze and maybe a few tweeting birds circling their heads.

He couldn’t be bothered to recite the specifics of it. Something about places in the Toon genre having stronger healing properties or some nonsense like that. But now, in this moment, the absurdity wasn’t so easy to dismiss as it had been the very thing that had led to him surviving his death, a miracle in of itself.

Gavriel’s hand reached up to softly graze the large scar on the side of his neck, healed yet still deep and harrowing, which told stories of a much darker time. Touching it had been a habit he'd developed a long time ago in times of stress or simply whenever he contemplated.

He had no patience for the whimsical workings of this place, no desire to analyze the wonders or whatever it was that had saved him. The only thing that mattered to him was that it had and he's alive because of it.

It didn’t change his wariness though. If anything, it only made him more resolute to understand who had brought him here and why.

Then Gavriel hears the door click open.

---------------

Jack Desmond stepped into the bedroom, carefully balancing a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a bowl of warm porridge in the other. He didn't have anything special in his kitchen at the moment so he was only able to put together a simple meal, figuring that even the scariest man in the world deserved something warm and filling in his stomach to help him heal. That was, if the food hadn't already gone cold by the time he awoke.

Jack wore his usual friendly smile, ready to show the stranger some hospitality when he froze in confusion the moment he saw that the bed was empty.

“Huh?” Jack murmured, his brow furrowing. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of where the man might have gone, but there was nothing.

"Hugh!"

Coffee and porridge spilled to the ground as the cup and plate he'd been holding came crashing down on the ground, splattering everywhere.

Rough hands closed around his neck from behind. The force of the grip was firm, not quite strangling but strong enough to hold Jack in place.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down his temples, his hair standing on its end. It felt like his heart was caught in his throat, he didn't even dare breathe too hard.

The presence behind him was suffocating, a dense aura of danger which didn't fit with the comfort of the room they were in.

The hand holding him didn’t need a weapon.

It didn't take much for Jack to instinctively realize that he was currently bordering the line of life and death, a primal understanding that this man could end him effortlessly if he choses to.

Jack’s throat bobbed as he tried to swallow but can't, his mouth dry as a desert. It was as if time had slowed down. He could feel his heart thundering inside, each beat thudding louder and louder in his ears as he stood there, unable to do anything but wait.

The silence was deafening. Jack's mind told him to yell, scream loudly for help, but he couldn’t even force out a sound.

Jack felt his breath hitch as the man’s deep, rumbling voice cut through the suffocating silence. The voice was hoarse from fatigue and pain, but it still carried a commanding weight to it as he spoke.

"Who are you?" the voice demanded, each word slow and deliberate, laced with a barely restrained irritation. "Where am I and why am I here?"

Despite the fear pressing down on him, Jack’s mind raced, and something other than terror roused his senses. He sniffs subconsciously, his nose picking up a change in the air. That sharp, metallic tang that made his stomach twist.

"I-I’ll tell you everything you want to know," he stammered. "But please, d-don’t move too much." He could smell it. The fresh, unmistakable scent of blood. "You're hurt, s-sir…"

With those words, the room fell into silence again. The man behind him didn't say anything, as if contemplating Jack’s words, yet the grip around Jack’s neck remained firm. Each second seemed to stretch into eternity, and Jack held his breath, waiting for a response as a cold bead of sweat rolls down his face.

Finally, after what felt like a forever, the grip released. Jack released his breath, silently gasping for air as his feet planted into the ground, trying to steady his balance after that terrifying experience. Slowly, he turns around, stumbling away slightly as he looks up to face the much larger man.

Gavriel stood there, towering over him with one hand clutching his wounded side, blood seeping through the bandages and staining his skin anew. With a shadow cast over his face, his sharp glare intensified.

His dark eyes narrowed, scarred face twisted into a pained look of irritation. Even when injured, such a sight would be enough to intimidate anyone with the sheer menace he radiated.

But as Jack’s heart raced in his chest, his gaze drifted almost unconsciously to Gavriel’s wound. The fear was still there, pressing down on Jack’s chest, but something else was too.

Concern.

The sight of the reopened wound stirred something deeply instinctive and kind in Jack, something that momentarily outweighed his terror. He couldn’t help it. Despite the terrifying glare, despite understanding that this man could kill him if he wanted to, Jack’s eyes lingered more on his injury rather than his scary appearance.

“You’re bleeding again,” Jack whispered, his voice small but genuine, before he presses his lips, meekly looking up to meet the man's eyes. The words had slipped out before he could stop them, his worry winning over self-preservation for just a second.

Gavriel’s glare remained unwavering, burning with a mix of suspicion and impatience. “Answer my questions,” he ordered.

Jack nodded quickly in agreement, returning his focus on the wound, which now had blood dripping from Gavriel’s side, pooling on the floor in droplets.

Jack frowns, a wave of empathy coursing through him, and he took a small step forward without thinking, wanting to help.

Gavriel reacted instantly, his expression souring like a cornered animal. His lips pulled back into a nasty snarl, and Jack immediately froze, eyes darting back to the man's face, his look carrying a clear message.

Don’t come any closer.

Jack was hesitant, but he took a shaky breath and showed Gavriel his palm, trying to show him that he meant no harm. “I just… I just want to help.” His eyes showed nothing but genuine concern, a warmth that was out of place in the tension.

For a moment, Gavriel didn’t move. His gaze bore into Jack with an intensity that made the toon feel exposed but Jack holds his ground, knowing that the man in front of him was in pain and had only been acting out of self preservation.

Jack cautiously inched closer, his hands still raised, palm facing upwards to try and ease the man that he wouldn't do anything bad to him. The closer he got, the more he could see the strain in Gavriel’s features. It was a silent battle between the pain and the effort to appear unwavering.

Finally, he reached the man’s side. Gavriel's eyes followed, but he didn’t stop him as Jack extended his palm towards him. Jack's hand flinches and hesitates for a second when Gavriel's grip on his wound tightened… Jack steels himself and gently touched the lower side of the man's hip, his fingers being stained with the blood that ran steadily down it.

Despite not being injured himself, Jack still winced sympathetically at the sight. Though Gavriel’s face showed no change, Jack didn’t miss the way the muscle around the injury flinched at his touch.

“Okay… okay.” Jack murmured, his voice soft but determined. His mind buzzed with worry, already trying to think of what he could do to keep the wound from worsening.

With a pang of dread, it finally dawned on him in fullness that this was only the beginning of him having to temporarily keep this dangerous man in his apartment.

Oh, boy. This was going to be a long week.

_

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