James
“He was a skilled tracker who enjoyed the hunt as a sadistic game.”
for @volturialice
KIROKAZE
The Bright Sessions
Fai_Ryy
NASA
★
art blog(derogatory)
Doug Jones
Color Me Curious
EXPECTATIONS
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

shark vs the universe
No title available
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
occasionally subtle
tumblr dot com
hello vonnie
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
No title available
Interview Vampire Daily

oozey mess
seen from United States
seen from Ireland
seen from Malaysia

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from Moldova
seen from Malaysia

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from India

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye

seen from Bahrain

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Kenya
@seopark063
James
“He was a skilled tracker who enjoyed the hunt as a sadistic game.”
for @volturialice
You know, I feel like my undying...fascination with James from twilight; particularly the scene where he’s talking with Bella in the mirror room, says a lot about me.
The growl, the husky voice, the danger, my young moldable mind.
𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥
Cam Gigandet as ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜᴇʀᴅᴀʟᴇ × Edi Gathegi as ʟᴀᴜʀᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴀ ʀᴇᴠɪɴ × Rachelle Lefevre as ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀɪᴀ ꜱᴜᴛʜᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ (dir. Catherine Hardwicke • 2008)
A fourth set of previously unreleased photos - James!
he’s so fine
ADHD-ers Best Shifting Method
Ima make this short and sweet: if you don't like having to lay in starfish position, count, visualize entering a waiting room even beFore getting to your DR, have sensory issues, or have trouble focusing, this is for you.
The trick is to not give a fuck. Think about it like this, when you really need to pee, the more you think about peeing, the more you feel like you're gonna piss yourself, and yes, even while you're not actively thinking about it, you can still feel the urge to use the bathroom, but essentially you're just gaslighting your brain into thinking you can hold it for just a bit more. This applies with shifting too.
THE METHOD
1.) get into a comfy position (it doesn't matter if you can feel your blanket, your pillow, the sheets, your plushies, literally none of it matters)
2.) pick a time where the house will be silent so you don't hear anything distracting (this is why I try at night because that shit is DEAD silent)
3.) lay down and close your eyes (you don't have to set an intention, you don't even have to pretend you don't care about shifting-if you REALLY wanna shift then don't gaslight yourself into thinking otherwise)
4.) start maladaptive daydreaming as if your eyes are open and you're acting how you usually do during the day (which is getting a task and listening to music while pretending you're in-not even your DR but just the scenarios you like)
5.) Keep imagining and don't think too much about "when re the symptoms gonna come" and they will come
6.) pick however you wanna shift (the one I like to use is acting like doctor strange and opening up a portal by moving my hand in a circular direction but honestly do whatever you like whether that's just saying "portal" or "I'm here" or acting it out-if that's what you like. The portal part doesn't matter, it's more about the assumption- "I'm here" asserts your point)
(no meditations, affirmations, or subliminal needed, that's literally IT)
the closest I've ever gotten to shifting were two accounts, both where I used this same method.
lost - knj
pairing: namjoon x reader
genre/warnings: travel!au, roommate!au, bookstore owner!namjoon, strangers to lovers, ft platonic reader x taehyung, fluff, lots of angst regarding uncertain futures, namjoon has a cat named marie
word count: 16,451
summary: taehyung’s warning was simple: stop and you’ll never want to start again or the one where you’re left alone in a loft apartment above a bookstore owned by a man with the sweetest dimples you’ve ever seen.
a/n: my first fic in three months omg…i hope u enjoy it as much as i did writing it :-(
Tiny succulent leaves spiraled outward from a central lobe rooted somewhere in the limited space provided by it’s miniature clay home. The pot rattled with the dips of open road, contained mostly to the corner of the dash and the dusty van window yet a victim of the unforgiving lack of traction still attached to the tires that had carried you for miles up until this point.
One thousand, two hundred and thirty-one miles. And counting.
Keep reading