#Reality shift

[gothcowgrrl]

how bro looks at me after i call him ricky for the 10th time in five minutes

[problematicraccoon]

i absolutely adore shiftblr because my feed is the perfect mix of the most elegantly worded think pieces on the origins of the universe and "I NEED TO FUCK HIM RAW" back to back. delightful

[morgxnshifts]

i got stuck in my DR and the shifting police got me 😨😨

[angelranger7]

shifting is NOT hard.

I AM hard and i am shifting to my s/o

[v1lsxe]

PERKS OF BEING A METAMORPHMAGUS. ♡♡︎♡︎

or: things i fully plan on doing the moment i shift, because if you can change your face at will and don’t cause at least a little bit of mischief, what are you even doing?

some people are born with destiny carved into their palms. me? born with shifting skin and a flair for dramatics. the metamorphmagus thing wasn’t a reveal—it was a problem from the moment i realised i could change my face to match my brother’s and get him blamed for everything.

growing up, it meant playdates that ended in existential crises (sorry to the cousin who met three versions of me in one day), family portraits that had to be charmed into stillness, and way too many mornings where my mum would shout “violeta, stop giving the staff heart attacks and put your real face on.” i didn’t. it was too fun.

imagine a child with absolute freedom over their appearance and not a shred of shame. one week i had emerald hair that glowed under moonlight, the next i gave myself fangs and told my little brother bedtime stories about being part vampire. he still checks his neck sometimes.

at hogwarts, no one knows. or at least, they shouldn’t. i keep it private, a secret stitched into my skin. there’s power in people underestimating you.

still… some days, when i’m feeling a little extra bored, i shift into mcgonagall and tell people there’s an essay due next period. the fear in their faces is priceless.

the perks?

⟡ instant disguise, useful for mischief and espionage

⟡ never having a bad hair day because you can just fix it.

⟡ getting into clubs at 16 by making yourself look like you’re 23 (not recommended, i’ll do it anyway)

⟡ perfect for fashion. match your hair to your outfit? yes. elongate your lashes, shift your freckles, turn your eyes purple for the drama of it all? yes.

⟡ copying pandora’s face and pulling the "guess which one’s the real one" stunt until she hexes me: worth it.

⟡ always being the winner costume parties.

but really, the true perk of being a metamorphmagus? having a built-in excuse for being a little unhinged.

[ilushift4r]

i’m going to shift idgaf bye things are gonna get freaky 😛😛😛

[angelsafa]

things with non-dualism

Hello my angels,

I've decided to make this post because I can finally say that it clicked for me. And I've seen that a lot of you guys are still very confused with non-dualism. (Read this post first if you haven't, and read it again even if you did lol).

So, the thing here is-

“But Safa I've read that I've to accept who I am, but if I do… how tf am I supposed to get rich?? Change families?? Do I just settle???”

Sweetheart. No. NO.

That’s not what non-dualism is saying at all. You’re thinking like there’s a “you” who’s stuck in this one life and now you gotta learn how to cope with it cutely. But my love… that “you”? That’s not real. That’s just the character. Tiffany or Max or Emma or whoever you’re playing rn.

Non-duality isn’t about acceptance in a weak, powerless way — it’s about remembering that you were NEVER the person to begin with.

You’re not here trying to fix your life. You’re not here trying to get rich. You’re the one dreaming the whole thing. Which means… you can literally drop the storyline that says you’re poor or born into a certain family or whatever — and poof, it’s not relevant anymore. Like switching Netflix episodes. You don’t fight it. You just stop watching it.

You're not here to accept being Tiffany who’s sad about her family. You’re here to realize you were never Tiffany. You’re the whole screen. You can pick any character. Any version. Any life. And it’s instant — the moment you stop claiming the one you’re sick of.

So you wanna be rich? Cool. Stop pretending to be the one who isn’t. Let go of the lack. Let go of the identity (the ego) that says “this is my life, my family, my problem.” It’s not yours. It’s not anyone’s. It’s just content. A dream.

The second you stop taking it personally, the whole thing dissolves.

So no my angel — you don’t “accept” your sad reality and cope with it forever. You wake up from the storyline. You stop pretending it was ever yours. You shift the second you stop biting the bait of being “the one trying to shift.”

No effort. No timeline. No “when will it happen.” It’s already yours when you’re not claiming the version that says it’s not.

Anyways my loves, I hope this blog helped. There are a lot of things that I try to simplify and put it as 'logically' as possible.

Remember you're literally the designer of your lives, you are everything, and well, that's it.

Lots lots lots of love,

Safa

[cultofcola]

There's nothing you can do.

Not even the Angels can help you.

Gods and Monsters were looking at her every move.

Vaenaera Valastrae was a girl created only because Lord Apollon had a vision. A War almost broke out amongst the Gods of Olympus, some accusing Apollon of acting like an irrational mortal, others agreeing with his decision. Lady Hekate was silent; the thought of one of her creatures being the reason of the End of the Civilisation left her astonished, even if it was bound to happen, at some point, like Merlin and Morgana centuries before. Apollon sat in his throne talking about a wizard who named himself a Lord, acting as if he was one of Them, and the mortal sky was filled of King Zeus' rage. A decision was made, and after many contracts between each other, the girl was sent to Earth as the third daughter of a pureblood family, as Queen Hera commanded. And with that, the Lilith in a white veil was born. The virgin prostitute. The equally dark force to destroy him. A nature's abomination destined for greatness.

[She looks up, then bites the god on the wrist] They created her. They sent her to that Land. They made her be eaten by the monsters who looked for her in the nights and made her soul rotten for everything that is running in her veins. The gods are the worst creatures alive, and she is their favourite daughter. [So, tell me, where did the blood on your palms come from? Self-divination, or sacrifice?]. Blessed be the daughter of Olympus, bound to eternal suffering to complete the cause of her conception. Child of sun [Apollo] and moon [Artemis], a beautiful [Aphrodite] danger [Poseidon], angry [Ares] girl filled with loyalty [Hera], pitilessness [Hades] young woman too mature [Demeter] for her age, someone who craves the desperation of what craziness will take [Dionysus], too smart [Athena] to even think clearly due to her witty [Hermes] thoughts, hardworking [Hephaestus] girl who will never finish what she started because of her aggressive spirit [Zeus].

Miss Vaenaera. Darling Vane. Haunted by dreams of Fire and Death since she was a small child, the warmth of her Mother felt like her only medicine. Her love never made the Prophet Child feel like a walking curse, even if no kid her age could use their minds to make the most rational old man act like an animal trapped in a cage; it was horrifying to assist what the five years old was capable of doing after she looked right at you in the eyes. Growing up, people were drawn to offer their lives for her…. And Mr Valastrae gladly used the Imperius curse to make sure no one talked about the 1967 accident. Why was she different from her sibilings? Why were her insides filled with poison meanwhile presenting as a Divine beauty? Why do her arms bend back in the Astral dimensions? Why is immortality afraid of welcoming her?

Were the whispers true? Were the Gods, worshipped in their temples, sending their Messiah? a Hero? This man who calls himself a Lord is seeking a girl he saw in his dreams: he said they are two faces of the same coin. He saw her dressed in fire. Fire was walking with her in every move. He was there when she spilled her first blood. She can't hide from him forever: He wanted his lamb, his Death Eaters wanted to make her one of them. They all want the unmaking of the Gods weapons, but were the ones searching for a liberator ready to fight? Bride, Daughter, Mother of Chaos: Vaenaera Valastrae felt everything except a girl.

Paris / France. Her room was full of notebooks filled with an ink so dirty that left her hands stained for days despite her trying to wash them continuously by rubbing the soap until she took off her skin. Letters she would never send, poems she would never make anyone read. A thousand stories, her story, words connected to each other in a such harmonious way that the pages are filled with tears scattered here and there. Lady Vane, of house Valastrae, is tortured. And she will always be. That's her destiny.

In her twelve years of living, she never left France. Smart in all of her lessons at the Private Education institution, youngest sibiling of the infamous Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Valastrae and favourite student of Madame Ormesson (teacher of good manners that Vaenaera knew since she was aware of her existence), she knew that her future was already written down on a contract signed by her Father, Lord of the House. He sold her when she was ten, and now she was scared of turning thirteen. All of her visions told her to let it happen. The Odd Girl of the Red Room in her dreams smiled at her and said it was for the better. Was she making the right decision to not use her depraved powers to make everyone forget about this contract?

She is terrified. The whispers were true. Aren't Messiahs destined to suffer?

It's the same thing that happened to her older sister, the middle child. Taken away from their Manor to live four years at the house of her future husband, to whom she had been designated since their parents found out that Lorien was a girl. Just as it had happened to Benoit's fiancée, her older brother and Heir, who had hosted his future wife in their Manor for four years. When Lorien turned sixteen, she married and left her first family forever.

1974. Now it's Vaenaera's turn. But she got it worse. Lorien never had to leave France, or to speak english because that's the only language her future husband could speak. Vaenaera knew that the Blacks were a very important family in the United Kingdom, but she didn't understand why they needed to took her that far away. Lord Orion Black told Father that they see her as a symbol. Divine beauty meets Pureblood nobility, and now she was about to go and live to Black Manor, London, and marry Regulus Arcturus Black when they turn sixteen. The Odd Girl of the Red Room said he was essential for the accomplishment of her Divine Decree: if he dies, her heart will turn into stone. A little treat for Lady Aphrodite, she said. And if after the death of the Lord-Man the Nature will not be balanced again, with a Divine Sacrifice, she will burn for Eternity.

That's her destiny.

[bridalribbon]

　

　

　　،،̲　　𝓗EART　IN　FLAMES　.

　

　

　. . .　✶　𝓼he remembers the night like this :

ayem sneaking into her bed, fire – red hair splayed across her pillow, cool fingers wiping the fever from her brow. the taste of chokeweed tea, ayem coaxing each sip down her raw throat with whispered promises that morning would come gentler, that the sickness would break like all the others had. falling asleep shaking in the arms of her sister, breathing in the scent of roses that always clung to her skin, sweet enough to mask the underlying smell of her own sweat and fear. then, later, iron boots on marble floors. the door bursting open without ceremony, without the courtesy owed to daughters of noble blood, winter air rushing in and biting at her skin like the teeth of some starving beast, nord soldiers wrestling her free from the warmth of silk sheets. she fought — she likes to think she fought well, fought like her father had taught her when she was a girl, playing at war in the gardens — kicked until her legs went numb, cursed them with every scrap of magicka in her fevered body. her voice cracked as she called for ayem, for the guards who were supposed to die before letting harm reach her, for anyone who might remember that she was supposed to be untouchable . . .

it didn’t matter. rank, house, the careful treaties their father had spent decades negotiating — none of it mattered when the occupation came demanding more blood. in the end, they dragged her out into the courtyard where she had walked just that afternoon, feeding breadcrumbs to the doves that nested in the eaves. where were her birds now ? where were her attendants, her tutors, the servants who bowed when she passed and called her “ young mistress ” with voices carefully trained to show just the right amount of reverence ? where were her birds ?  where were her birds ? the stones were cold against her bare feet, each one familiar from years of walking this path, now strange and hostile. she could see her breath in the air, could see the stars that she had taught ayem to read for omens, could see the smoke rising from the hastily built pyre that awaited her.

　

　

they bound her to the frame next to one of the temple priests. the wood smelled green and wet, hastily gathered from the groves that surrounded the temple, branches that should have been offerings now repurposed for execution. she remembers thinking, absurdly, that it wouldn’t burn well. that someone should have told them to let it dry properly. that her father would have had words about such shoddy workmanship. the crowd that had gathered was smaller than she’d expected. mostly soldiers, a few temple officials with faces like stone, some citizens brave enough or curious enough to witness the death of heretics but not brave enough to meet her eyes. she searched for her sister among them and found nothing, mercy or abandonment — she still isn’t sure which.

what happened next exists in fragmented pieces that she hasn’t had the courage to touch, shards of an event from the perspective of a ghost over her shoulder. they tell her, later, when her throat no longer feels like raw meat and her voice no longer comes out as whispers, that she burned from the inside out — a light far too bright to be the crudely built pyre. that the flames turned silver, then violet, then the deep blue of twilight, colours that had no business in any fire made by the hands of men. they tell her she screamed, and the soldiers died — not from the fire, but from the sound itself, a note that shattered something in their bones, that reached into their chests and stopped their hearts mid – beat. she screamed, and the stones of the courtyard cracked. she screamed, and fell from the pyre — a star returning to earth, a dove in her nest, a velvet glove around a throat.

when they found her in the morning, still breathing among the ashes, they called it a miracle. they called her blessed. they called her a saint.

　

　

[deerdoegone]

stop caring about how you will get your desires.

hello hello. still alive and on the same bullshit. i have to share a realization i had ages ago with someone, and i've decided to share with the audience of angels (you guys), so please bear with me for how messy this will get because i am clustered, disorganized, and feel like i've been in the rain for a day and a week.

so, what is the point of this? i'm not really recounting a shift—though i will later—why am i frantically typing at 2AM wednesday and poorly proofreading at 9PM a week later? my published archive and the reason to no longer hold onto the realism of your shifts and manifestations.

think 2005 in los angeles at the oscars. i am the youngest to ever receive the award for best director, best original screenplay, and best cinematography at only twenty-two; papers are saying it will never be done again in this lifetime. i am not a nepo baby or some illuminati thinkpiece playset that comes with the aaliyah doll included. i am me. think 2011, and now think harder about a california loft decorated in pink and girly accents with a fluency in ivory and lace. i’m going through boxes from old productions.

photographs on and off set, email copies, receipts from budgeting, everything i’ve stored over the years that’s taking up a suffocating amount of space. wine glass in hand, i'm going through all these overwhelming examples of "have i gone too far?" i mean, how realistic is it for the oscars to let a twenty-two-year-old black woman on the stage and hold an award for merit in three categories? it'll overwhelm you, tying yourself up to realism within idealism. manifestation has to have a pathway, something to click for it to make sense to you. there has to be a step-by-step plan to get that desire. you need to tell yourself that the only way you will get this thing is by finishing your 12-step plan that makes the most sense of how you will get it.

none of that matters. none of your intricate, well-thought-out plan of how you can get a text back matters. you want something? it's already yours. stop thinking that the universe is emotionally disconnected from your relationship with it. it'll happen on it's own, and you do not need realism or to play connect the dots to get the pretty picture.

you set the standard for yourself and push your limits as far as they can go because you fucking can. push your limits until the invisible wall breaks and you fall off the edge of the simulation.

stop worrying about how you will come across money, you do not need to be detailed. "mom will me $5, dad will give me $10, my boss will give me $350" stop it. you could find that money on the sidewalk in a black duffle bag. you could find it neatly wrapped up in a birthday card from your nonna.

just let it go and let it happen as it happens.

so i stopped worrying. it took a crisis induced 25 minutes of "am i doing too much?" before i realized "who literally fucking cares" was my best answer. i took all those photos, emails, reciepts, script drafts, backstage costume prep, i took every last little thing and published my archive in sofia coppola fashion because who literally fucking cares.

being realistic in your idealistic life is gonna get you nowhere because you'll end up spending more time on the details instead of the end result. nobody fucking cares how you got there. you shouldn't care, either.

apply to this shifting , if you want. the second you stop caring it all kind of clicks? that's how i shift, anyways. i think of nothing and nobody. i live out a day and wander aimlessly with no intention. i don't have to feel dizzy, i don't have to feel numb, i don't have to go step by step.

[batsyi]

ive finished scripting 1/4 of my better cr… WHO CHEERED ?!

[gothcowgrrl]

nothing. is. a. coincidence.

[turnbacktomorrow]

my main fear when shifting to my hunger games Dr isn’t the constant running and hiding from the Capitol, not the potential of my loved ones and me dying, not even the three sexy and dangerous men that are vowing for my attention.

im afraid ill accidentally reference old memes while flirting and they wont fuvking understand any of it

[liliesmultiverse]

⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙- *̩̩̥͙ I WAS TAME, I WAS GENTLE TILL THE CIRCUS LIFE MADE ME MEAN... 2010s fame reality intro!!

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° liliana amore aniston-downey [born sept. 10, 1989] is the pop princess of manhattan. i was born in manhattan, new york to robert john downey jr. & jennifer joanna aniston as an only child. i first started my acting career at just 9 years old when i starred in the parent trap (1998) as hallie parker & annie james. on september 23, 2006 i made my debut in the music industry with the release of my debut album, dear diary. it’s now february 1, 2014 and i’ve since released 3 more albums, with my 5th album planned to release later this year on august 23, and in ten days filming for age of ultron will begin.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° my filmography

tv shows:

༉‧₊˚. gossip girl ; serena van der woodsen (2007-2012)

༉‧₊˚. the vampire diaries ; melody jane forbes (2009-present)

༉‧₊˚. pretty little liars ; liliana aurora black (2010-present)

༉‧₊˚. teen wolf ; serena elaine finstock (2011-present)

movies:

༉‧₊˚. the parent trap ; hallie parker & annie james (1998)

༉‧₊˚. harry potter and the sorcerer’s stone ; delphini andromeda malfoy, female draco (2001)

༉‧₊˚. spy kids 2: the island of lost dreams ; gerti giggles (2002)

༉‧₊˚. harry potter and the chamber of secrets ; delphini malfoy (2002)

༉‧₊˚. spy kids 3-d: game over ; gerti giggles (2003)

༉‧₊˚. harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban ; delphini malfoy (2004)

༉‧₊˚. harry potter and the goblet of fire ; delphini malfoy (2005)

༉‧₊˚. harry potter and the order of the phoenix ; delphini malfoy (2007)

༉‧₊˚. harry potter and the half-blood prince ; delphini malfoy (2009)

༉‧₊˚. iron man 2 ; liliana rogers / lily grant / the red siren (2010)

༉‧₊˚. harry potter and the deathly hallows ; delphini malfoy (2011)

༉‧₊˚. the avengers ; liliana rogers / the red siren (2012)

༉‧₊˚. the amazing spider-man ; gwen stacy (2012)

༉‧₊˚. the amazing spider-man 2 ; gwen stacy (2014)

༉‧₊˚. godzilla ; elle brody (2014)

future filmography:

༉‧₊˚. daredevil ; lily grant (2015-2018)

༉‧₊˚. avengers: age of ultron ; liliana rogers / the red siren (2015)

༉‧₊˚. captain america: civil war ; liliana rogers / the red siren (2016)

༉‧₊˚. the punisher ; lily grant (2017)

༉‧₊˚. avengers: infinity war ; liliana rogers / the red siren (2018)

༉‧₊˚. legacies ; melody mikaelson (2018-2022)

༉‧₊˚. avengers: endgame ; liliana maximoff / the red siren (2019)

༉‧₊˚. the red siren ; liliana rogers / the red siren (2021)

༉‧₊˚. daredevil: born again ; liliana maximoff / the red siren (2025-???)

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° my discography

༉‧₊˚. dear diary [released sept. 10, 2006]

༉‧₊˚. wondering [released oct. 15, 2008]

༉‧₊˚. honey [released sept. 12, 2010]

༉‧₊˚. lost at sunrise [released aug. 2, 2012]

༉‧₊˚. written in the stars [releases on aug. 23, 2014]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° my family

༉‧₊˚. robert john downey jr. [born apr. 4, 1965] is a famous american actor. he was born in manhattan, new york to robert john downey sr. & elsie ann ford as the youngest of 2 children. he first met my mom in 1987 at a party and had an instant connection. they started dating only a few months later. he quit drugs for good when my mom was 3 months pregnant with me as she'd given him an ultimatum. in early 1993, he proposed and they got married in mid-1994 with me being the flower girl.

༉‧₊˚. jennifer joanna aniston [born feb. 11, 1967] is a famous american actress. she was born in sherman oaks, california to john anthony aniston & nancy maryanne dow as the youngest of 2 children. when she & my dad started dating, she'd expressed her dislike towards his drug use and he would go on and off with it but when she found out she was pregnant with me, she gave him an ultimatum; either he quits using for good or he won't be a part of my life. when he made the decision to do the former rather than the latter, she was proud and helped him. she's the person i look up to the most and has been my biggest role model.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° aaron perry johnson [born jun. 13, 1990] is a famous english actor. he was born in high wycombe, england as the oldest of 2 children. his father left him & his mother when he was 2. when he was 4, his mother met a mexican man from guadalajara who aaron considers as his dad. his mother & the man got married after 3 years of dating and 11 months later, his younger half-sister gemma araceli flores was born. he is perfectly fluent in spanish & russian. we first met in march 2013 on the set of godzilla and we had an instant connection although i did my best to ignore it as i was dating andrew garfield. he filed to divorce sam in may 2013 and it officially finalized in november that year and unbeknownst to me, the reason for the divorce was because he’d started getting feelings for me.

[angelranger7]

you say you haven't shifted, but i beg to differ.

what if you unknowingly shifted into a reality where the only difference is something so arbitrary, that you are just so wildly oblivious to it?

what if you shifted to a reality where the only difference is a random man's hair across the country is blonde instead of red? how would you even know?

what if you shifted to a reality where the only difference is a flowerbed in a part of town, you don't really pay attention to, are carnations instead of poppies? How would you even know about that?

there are all these different possibilities, so how are you so sure you haven't shifted? do you have cold, hard proof? would you be able to prove it in a court room? no. so don't think so narrow.

i believe when we set intention, it always follows through. you may not have shifted to you desired reality, but you still shifted. you're still not where you started. you're just not completely aware of it.

its inevitable. you will hit the bullseye and wake up where you've always longed to be. but you are not stagnant. you are not stuck. you are not tied to a single reality. you belong to many and you have been to thousands already.