travel to find me

I wish meeting girls in real life was as easy as it is for heterosexuals. I want to go into a coffee shop and write my number on a napkin without it being weird. I want to bump into someone on the street by accident and it be love at first sight. This internet culture gives me the green light when it comes to sexuality. Profiles tell me which females are gay. I wish I had the courage to effortlessly flirt. I wish I could go into a normal public space and pick up a girl. I have to travel a distance to a gay bar just to find someone similar to me while my friends get to go almost anywhere. I’m sick of staring at a phone when I just want to connect with another human being in the flesh.

anonymous asked:

Do you have any recommendations for any astral witch blogs? I'm really interested in astral travel and I'd love so resources (ie technique, if there are specific constant astral locations, information about the denizens of the plane, astral powers, etc)

I guess maybe @insaneastraldragon​ would wanna be mentioned here - my personal friend. I remember teaching him how to set up his shields, and then he went and made a fucking dragon. The student always surpasses the teacher, sigh…

I know of people who have written astral travel posts. You can always ask them these questions. 

@spiritvexer​ ; @theawakenedstate​ ; @duskenpath​ ; @visardistofelphame​ ; @sopherielspeaks​ ; @thiscrookedcrown​ ; @chaosjelly​ ; @thetwistedrope​ ; @hecaatia​ ; @astral-club

I do have a [tag for “astral”] on my blog that has a lot of posts. Maybe not some of the more specific ones regarding planes and denizens, but, you know. Stuff.

Safety

General

Senses 

How to

Tips

Astral Spaces

Body Modifications

Attack and Defense

The Astral Body

Disclaimer: Everyone’s astral experiences are different. While the astralling community may agree for the most part on the following things, you may still experience and believe different things. And that’s okay! ;D *musical flourish*

Originally posted by dimensao7

Your astral body can be wildly different from your physical body:

  • Sexual and romantic tastes can differ between astral and physical.
  • Gender and sex can differ between astral and physical.
  • Shapeshifting is possible with the astral body.
  • Even throughout different lives and forms, your being has a core that remains unchanged. This could be known as a “soul”.

There are different kinds of astral bodies/astral experiences:

  • Some astralling is not permanent; you make a body to astral temporarily and it vanishes/dissolves when you’re done.
  • Some astralling is semi-permanent; you have an astral self that’s “stored” in your physical body.
  • Then there’s physical semi-permanent where, on physical realms, you form a physical body but it’s only active when you use it.
  • Then there’s permanent-permanent when you’re “tuning into” another body/consciousness with its own life that does its own thing even when not in use.

Your astral body and physical body can influence each other:

  • Injury/sickness in astral can affect physical. For example, many people who have been in astral fights wake up the next morning with pains where they were hurt in battle.
  • Injury/sickness in the physical can affect the astral, but not as much as the reverse (as limbs can be regrown, the body is very “fluid”, etc.). For example, if you are sick in the physical, parasites may show up in your astral body, it may be harder for you to connect to your astral body, your astral vision may become blurry, etc.
  • You can get used to being one way in astral and then feel “off” when returning to the physical. You can have wings in the astral and then feel like you’re missing something when you return to your physical body.
  • If the astral body is killed or destroyed, it can regenerate using the physical body’s energy.

Your astral body can change depending on where you are:

  • You can remember some things better in the astral (past lives, astral experiences) than in the physical. They may be weakened, lost, or harder to recall when returning to the physical.
  • This is applicable to specific realms as well. If you have a fae-touched soul, for example, you may recall past lives while travelling to fae realms.
  • You may also experience shifts in your astral form depending on location. Some fae-touched people’s forms change when they are in their fae homeworlds.
  • Different astral realms differ in their effects on one’s astral body. Some things may be possible in one realm but not another. This can also be tied to one’s energetic makeup. For example, someone with angelic energies might have a hard time shapeshifting when in Hell.

Thank you to everyone who helped with the information!~

@chaosjelly

@maxthedeathwitch

@whitesnakeprophecies

@dakinidarce

@crystal-ravenwitch

@sleepytisi

@realmbound

@celestialanddivine

@electric-singe

my feelings on bsd lovecraft and his real life counterpart

6

Originally posted by valliamerie

Minerva: Red Alert, Dumbledore. Your ex-boyfriend is back.
Albus: No kidding, Minerva.
Minerva: Not him. The other ex-boyfriend
Albus: Grindelwald.
Minerva: He’s in your office.
Percival: Oh shit! *runs away*
Alastor Moody: …

Some words of clarification, if you will allow me.

The reason I came up with words like “neuronarrative” is because I see a need for such word. It’s that simple.

I see that right now on the Internet “maladaptive daydreaming” has two pretty different meanings, and the phrase is used interchangeably with no explanation in many different communities.

It’s like you have two groups of people. First is people who love drinking alcohol on the weekends or holidays, enjoy it in moderation, like talking about it and creating new cocktail recipes and so on. And second is people who struggle with alcohol addiction, feel like their drinking is out of control and wish they could quit it. And both groups use exactly the same terminology!

As you can guess, it creates a lot of misunderstanding and confusion. You have some people who talk about how much they love their daydreaming and how it helps them in everyday life and who think it is the most wonderful thing in the world, and you have others who haven’t left their house for three days because they couldn’t stop daydreaming or who lost friends because of their daydreaming addiction. Both exist alongside in one community and call their experience maladaptive daydreaming.

I think it’s not fair to either of them. Those who think daydreaming is a positive force in their life need spaces to enthuse about it and share their stories and feel like they are not weird or wrong. Those who think it is a negative force need spaces to complain about it and seek help and discuss their problems and not feel like their issues are diminished. And accurate terminology can help separate them and better articulate their thoughts and explain their experience and reduce the misunderstanding and conflict.

So that’s why I came up with “neuronarrative” to describe unusual and intense daydreaming that isn’t seriously harmful to the person experiencing it, and wrote an article to explain the difference (http://autisticworlds.tumblr.com/post/153905673680/new-terms-and-explanations). I’m not saying you absolutely have to use my word, but I do think we will need separate terminology at some point.

But essentially it’s up to you which words to use. The community is new and diverse. There are no rules. Do what makes you comfortable. It’s your choice. I wanna call my experience neuronarrative. You can make up your own word, or use other words - reclaim them, change their meaning, adapt them for your use.

All I want is less confusion and confrontation and a better community where people’s needs will be met and where they can feel safe and welcomed. But I’m just one person. It’s up to you, every single individual in the community, to choose what to do and create a place that is good for you. And I’ll try my best to help you.

She’s the one with the messy unkempt hair colored by the sun. Her skin is now far from fair like it once was. Not even sun kissed. It’s burnt with multiple tan lines, wounds and bites here and there. But for every flaw on her skin, she has an interesting story to tell.

Don’t date a girl who travels. She is hard to please. The usual dinner-movie date at the mall will suck the life out of her. Her soul craves for new experiences and adventures. She will be unimpressed with your new car and your expensive watch. She would rather climb a rock or jump out of an airplane than hear you brag about it.

Don’t date a girl who travels because she will bug you to book a flight every time there’s an airline seat sale. She wont party at Republiq. And she will never pay over $100 for Avicii because she knows that one weekend of clubbing is equivalent to one week somewhere far more exciting.

Chances are, she can’t hold a steady job. Or she’s probably daydreaming about quitting. She doesn’t want to keep working her ass off for someone else’s dream. She has her own and is working towards it. She is a freelancer. She makes money from designing, writing, photography or something that requires creativity and imagination. Don’t waste her time complaining about your boring job.

Don’t date a girl who travels. She might have wasted her college degree and switched careers entirely. She is now a dive instructor or a yoga teacher. She’s not sure when the next paycheck is coming. But she doesn’t work like a robot all day, she goes out and takes what life has to offer and challenges you to do the same.

Don’t date a girl who travels for she has chosen a life of uncertainty. She doesn’t have a plan or a permanent address. She goes with the flow and follows her heart. She dances to the beat of her own drum. She doesn’t wear a watch. Her days are ruled by the sun and the moon. When the waves are calling, life stops and she will be oblivious to everything else for a moment. But she has learned that the most important thing in life isn’t surfing.

Don’t date a girl who travels as she tends to speak her mind. She will never try to impress your parents or friends. She knows respect, but isn’t afraid to hold a debate about global issues or social responsibility.

She will never need you. She knows how to pitch a tent and screw her own fins without your help. She cooks well and doesn’t need you to pay for her meals. She is too independent and wont care whether you travel with her or not. She will forget to check in with you when she arrives at her destination. She’s busy living in the present. She talks to strangers. She will meet many interesting, like-minded people from around the world who share her passion and dreams. She will be bored with you.

So never date a girl who travels unless you can keep up with her. And if you unintentionally fall in love with one, don’t you dare keep her. Let her go.

So I commented on Jacksepticeye’s 5th video for Outlast 2, and I explained that he missed an important Document by the lake, titled, “Old Traveler”. Someone asked me to explain where it is so they could find it themselves, to which I gave a detailed explanation on where to find it and then wrote out the entire Document for those who wanted to see it immediately. I of course, added SPOILER WARNINGS.

So in his last video yesterday, he added an extra segment at the very end where he said he read a comment where someone explained that he’d missed an important Document, and proceeded to quote my explanation on how to get to said Document! He then went and found the Document!

  1. He reads his damn comments. Didn’t expect that.
  2. It threw more things into perspective for him and changed some of his opinions on the game.
  3. He read aloud it for everyone so now more people know about how Outlast 1 and Outlast 2 are connected.
  4. Did I Mention That He Fucking Read My Comment?! I’m Dead.

Yeah, it was a great day.

the world was at war, so me and some dude traveled to the future to find out how we could win, and it turned out that he had just been cloned as many times as it was needed until there was a big enough army to defeat the bad guys, and in the future, most of the population were clones of him.

So... modern witch thing:

With all these Google/Amazon etc. personal computer assistant things I just… I *need* to see a comic or something about a modern college witch working in her little space and randomly needing something like “Okay Alexa, charms for safe travel at night…” or “Okay Google, find me herbal associations for attracting luck… this final is fixing to kick my ass.”

AU’s

You can read about Viktor Nikiforov and how he falls in love with the boy next door, Yuuri Katsuki.

You can read about Prince Viktor having a forbidden relationship with his trusty knight, Yuuri Katsuki. 

But NOTHING

ABSOLUTELY NOTHING

BEATS 

VIKTOR (I-RISKED-MY-ENTIRE-LIFE-OF-SKATING-BY-TRAVELING-TO-JAPAN-TO-FIND-THE-DRUNKEN-BOY-WHO-ASKED-ME-TO-BE-HIS-COACH-AND-THEN-SKATED-TO-MY-ROUTINE-) NIKIFOROV.

jeemyjamz  asked:

I was wondering if you could write a fic (inspired by the Extra gum commercial) where for every momentous event that happened in their life (First meet, first kiss, etc), Jughead writes about his feelings about her and he compiles all his little notes until the end where he gives it to Betty before proposing to her Ps. if you could have it where Jughead includes his proposal note for Betty to read before he actually proposes to her, I'll probably die from the feels

Ah! Sorry this took so long, I loved the idea so much but I wasn’t sure how I wanted to execute it so I hope it does this amazing request justice!

A/N: I wasn’t sure of when they first met in canon, so I just made something up. Sorry if it’s totally wrong lol. Also, I referenced a fic I wrote about their first date so you can find that here. Hope you like it @jeemyjamz!!!

Betty stepped into Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe expecting to find Jughead waiting for her in the same booth they had been meeting at since they were kids. Instead, she found the entire restaurant decorated the way it had been on their first date nearly ten years ago, twinkle lights and candles illuminating the entire room in a beautiful white light that made everything glow.

“Juggie?” Betty called out to the empty restaurant, scanning the room from one end to the other for any sign of him and realizing that he was nowhere to be found. In fact, it looked as though there was no one working in the kitchen or behind the counter either. She was completely alone. And it was starting to make her nervous.

“Okay, don’t freak out, you’re fine,” Betty muttered to herself, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it into a booth next to her. But instead of landing in the booth, the long black coat missed the seat completely and landed into a heap on the floor. Frustrated, Betty bent down to retrieve it when she noticed markings on the tile that hadn’t been there the previous day. “What’s this?”

Betty leaned forward to find that a line of arrows were drawn in thick black marker all along the tiled floor. Curious, Betty followed their lead until she ended up standing in front of the same booth she had thought she would find Jughead when she first entered the restaurant. But instead of her boyfriend, she found a thick, leather-bound journal waiting for her on the table. Picking it up, she noticed the sticky note stuck to the cover and smiled to herself, reading the words slowly as she took in the familiar slant of Jughead’s handwriting.

“Betty Cooper, if you weren’t such as grade-A super sleuth, I wouldn’t have trusted you to find this - but luckily for me, you’re a much better detective than I ever was so I suspect you have found the journal and are reading this note right now. I guess I should tell you that I’m giving this to you because I’ve been writing in this book since I was ten-years-old and every single entry is a memory of our time together. I’ve marked the ones of the most interest and am hoping that you will read them and not think less of me. Once you’ve reached the last page and you have followed the directions, you will find me waiting for you. Have fun traveling down memory lane. See you on the other side.”

Taking a deep breath, Betty opened to the first marked page and began to read. 

The First Day of Kindergarten (Age 5)

This is the day I first met you. I saw your parents dropping you off in the classroom and remember thinking that you had the shiniest blonde hair I had ever seen. All I could think about the entire day - during nap time and recess and snack - was running up to you and pulling on that curly blonde ponytail of yours. So I did. And while most of the girls in our class would have cried or screamed or thrown blocks at my head, you simply turned around, smiled that sweet smile of yours, and said, “Hi. I’m Betty Cooper. If you want, you can sit with me on the carpet during circle time. I’ll even let you touch my ponytail. All you have to do is ask.” I couldn’t believe it. A five-year-old with better manners than most of the adults in my life. My mind couldn’t fully grasp it, and I knew, even if I didn’t fully understand it at the time, that my entire world was about to change. So once I learned how to write in complete sentences without fully botching the grammar - that’s when I started this journal for you. A journal of all the times you changed my life. A journal of how my world continues to change everyday because of you.

Betty flipped to the next page and immediately noticed that the handwriting had changed. These were the entries that he had written when he was a kid. And they were addressed to her.

The Day You Let Me Sit On Your Swing Set (Age 10)

I spent most of the day crying. My dad’s drinking again. He’s so angry at mom and Jellybean is scared and I just needed to get away from them. So I took Jellybean and we just kept walking until we found ourselves in front of your house. You saw us and without saying a word, you led us into your backyard. You got Jellybean a popsicle because you saw that she was sad, and then we just sat on your swing set thinking of silly names to call the birds landing in your yard until your mom came home. It made be feel a little better. That was really nice of you and I’ll never forget it.

The Day of the Middle School Dance (Age 13)

I hate participating in school sanctioned-activities. I would rather stick a dozen pins in my eyes and beat them down with a hammer than be seen in a ridiculous suit and tie, parading through the cheaply-decorated school gym like I’m oblivious to the way everyone is looking at me like I’m the scum of the Earth but talk to me anyway because I’m friends with Archie. But anyway, I saw you sitting on the curb outside of the school, looking down at your shoes like there was a piece of gum stuck on the bottom. (But there wasn’t, I remember checking when you lifted your feet off the ground so Reggie wouldn’t run over them with his skateboard). So I sat next to you and asked you why you were sad. You said you didn’t want to talk about it, but I could see you staring at Archie from across the parking lot and I knew you were sad he didn’t ask you to the dance. I knew how badly you wanted to go. So I asked you to come to the dance with me instead. To my surprise you said yes. And we had a good time. And I think that if you wanted me to ask you to another dance, I would do it. Because I think you look really pretty in a dress. (Well, I always think you look pretty). But seeing you in a dress was different somehow. It made my heart beat really fast. And I think I liked how that felt.

The Day of Our First Kiss (Age 16)

Something has changed between us. Something I could never put into words. Something that, if I even tried to say it out loud, I would never be able to explain it in a way that would do it justice. So I climbed into your bedroom to see if you were alright after visiting Polly and I wanted to make you feel like everything was going to be okay. I wanted you to know that things had changed and you could count on me to be there for you. So I kissed you. And it was like a weight being lifted off my chest and I could finally breathe again. It felt so natural. It felt like I was meant to kiss you like that everyday for the rest of forever. And who knows, maybe I will. Although, let’s face it - we both know I’m not lucky enough to deserve that - to deserve you. I never have been.

The Day I Told You I Loved You (Age 17)

Today was the best and worst day of my life. My father’s funeral felt like it lasted an entire lifetime. It was cold and wet and gave every indication that it was recreated from a scene straight out of a Poe novel. But you were right by my side the entire time and it made it (almost) bearable to be standing there watching him get lowered into the ground. You held me when I cried. You pulled me away when I let my anger get the better of me and punched my hand through the stained glass window of the church. And when you were wrapping the bandage around my wound I felt this voice screaming at me - you have to tell her. You have to tell her before it’s too late because too late might be tomorrow and life is just too short to waste any moments. So I told you. I told you and you smiled and you said it back. And I cried again because I didn’t think anyone could ever love me like that. But you do. And I know I don’t deserve it, but I will never take it for granted.

The Day You Left Riverdale (Age 19)

I should hate you. I should be glad you’re gone and hope you never step foot on this godforsaken town’s soil ever again. I should want to wish the worst for you and hope you never succeed in anything you do. But I’m not the person I would have been if I had never met you. You changed me. So I can’t hate you. I’m too in love with you to hate you. And it kills me to write this so bluntly, but there’s no other way to put it - This sucks. And it’s you’re fault.

The Day You Came Back (Age 23)

The moment you stepped into my office, I knew I had to be having one of those hallucinations one gets when they’re stuck in the desert for days without food or water. You couldn’t be real. You couldn’t be walking towards me with your hair pulled back and your face even more beautiful than I remembered. But there you were. You were you. And I was me. And I had so much to say. So much you needed to know. But instead, I took a step towards you, and you looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and I realized that I couldn’t stand another second of not touching you. So I took your face in my hands and I kissed you and suddenly we didn’t need words. We just needed each other. And that was enough.

Betty wiped the tears from her eyes and turned to the next page. “Flip to the last page and close your eyes,” the words read, causing Betty’s head to swim with so many thoughts and emotions she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Doing as the journal instructed, she skipped to the very last page and shut her eyes before she could read what was written. She could hear faint footsteps coming towards her and her palms began to sweat as she clutched the journal with both hands.

“Open your eyes and look at the journal.” Jughead’s voice made her heart skip a beat as she slowly did as she was told and lifted the book to read the title of the last journal entry.

The Day I asked You To Marry Me (Age 25)

…To Be Continued

Betty’s heart stopped as she dropped the journal onto the floor and looked down to see the boy she had loved for so many years, kneeling before her with a velvet ring box in his hand.

“Bets, there are a thousand eloquent speeches I could have written to express how much you mean to me, but I don’t think we need the fancy words or heartfelt soliloquies anymore,” Jughead began, his hand shaking ever so slightly as he held the box out in front of him for her to see. “I think that all I need to say to you is this. I’ve been in love with you since the very first entry in that journal. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but I think the fact that I felt the need to start it in the first place is proof enough. You’re my world, Betty Cooper, and I want to be able to fill a hundred more journals just like this one with every memory that we share together for the rest of time. Will you marry me?”

In that moment, every memory she had of Jughead flashed across her mind just like the pages in his journal. The boy who loved playing with her ponytail, the boy who needed a swing to swing on and a friend to watch birds with when he was feeling sad, the boy who could tell when she was sad and needed someone to go to the dance with, the boy who lit up her world like twinkle lights and decorative candles illuminating Pop’s. She had spent most of her life with this boy - this man - kneeling in front of her and she wanted to spend everyday that came next, right by his side.

Without a word, Betty took the journal from his hands and lunged for the pen on the counter, her hand shaking as she wrote furiously in the journal. Jughead’s throat closed up as he watched in anticipation, waiting for the girl he loved to answer the most important question he had ever asked in his entire life. Betty turned the journal so he could read it and he stood from his kneeling position to scoop her up into his arms, tossing the journal onto the floor so that it slid across the tile and revealed Betty’s words to the empty diner.

She said yes.