I Am Begging You All To Stop Treating This Site Like Instagram If You Dont Want It To Be Content Free

Ok speaking about how fantastic the power of imagination is - I have a little trick I like to use. I use this in all kinds of situations when things aren’t bad per se but they’re not great either - when I’m under-stimulated, when I can’t motivate myself to study, when I hate whatever social situation I have to participate in, when I’m mildly dissociating, when I feel unhappy to be around a bunch of people, when I’m feeling huge discontent from what I’m meant to be doing, when I feel I can’t be myself or otherwise have to hide (homophobic environment etc), when I’m hyperactive but still might just get something done, when I’m just really bored - 

It’s called I am the con artist. It goes like this.  

You are the protagonist of a camp high-flying fantasy/spy/steampunk/cyberpunk/swashbuckling novel, and you’re about to pull off your biggest heist yet. Everything before this was leading up to this one. Your people are in place, waiting for your signal - your fingers brush against the hilt of your sword - a smile, disconcerting, plays at the edge of your lips. Everything is ready. If you can just get through the next ten minutes, the next hour - it will all be worth it. The stakes have never been higher. Until then, you just have to blend in.

And you look around, and think: how can I pull this off?

It works a treat. Yes, you’re still disillusioned writing your essay - but you are a disillusioned scholar, pen weary in hand by the light of candlelight, hearing the rain battering against the panes of glass. Underneath the library are vaults full of riches you can only dream of. You just need to wait, quill scratching, until the stroke of midnight. 

Bored of learning vocabulary? That’s not a luxury you have. The king’s eldest heir you will kidnap speaks fluent French; and if you will pull off the pretence for even ten minutes at the masquerade later tonight, you need to convince. 

Feeling overwhelmed, an imposter, like you don’t belong? Well, as a member of the underground syndicate masquerading as a noble, you are. You have flattered and talked your way into the highest circles of society, and the decadence of the ball-rooms and the ever-flowing wine makes you sick. They will rue the day they ever crossed you. 

Hate making small-talk and dressing up? Of course you do. You’re the city’s best squid tamer, and you know poisons like no-one else. And under your dress are poison daggers strapped to your thigh, dipped in the venom of the squid. All you have to do is wait for the signal: the code-word from the man to your left, and the mark’s life will be cut short. 

Can’t be arsed to work out? There is no other option if your plan to infiltrate the ambassador’s elite bodyguards is to succeed. You can scale buildings, sure - but if you are pretending to be a graduate of the kingdom’s best school for martial artists, you need to be more than that. 

Why not use your imagination for protection and fun? If your workout is running up stairs and you pretend you’re chasing a dragon, why shouldn’t you use the same logic for studying or social situations? 

I am the con artist. Melissa is a lie. Evil Chenxi out.

Shine on forever Shine on benevolent sun Shine down upon the severed Shine until the two become one Divided, withering away Divided, withering away Shine down upon the many Light our way, benevolent sun

Dont ignore

Hi tumblr, im not seeing any mention of this over here right now so I'd like to help spread awareness here too since this really needs to be addressed.

About 2 to 3 days ago, police brutally killed latjor tuel, a black man suffering from mental illness and was having an episode when he was killed, and then proceeded to leave his body in the streets for 8 hours.

They're trying to justify killing him, but there was no reason for his death period, he was a man having an episode with his mental illness and all he was supposedly "armed" with was a STICK.

Latjor tuel did not deserve to die like this at all, what the police did to him and the state they left him in is not justifiable whatsoever. This treatment of black people cannot go on.

PLEASE, donate to the families GFM if you can:

https://gofund.me/145faeb0

And help spread about this as much as possible by any means you can

some rough early 20s toph bc theres not enough art of her as a floppy haired lesbian idk

hi i’m back i haven’t drawn in a week

Hello my name is Dispenser of Provisions, God is my Oath, Wetlands

that one ghosty time travel soulmate au thing thats really big in the atla fandom except its bnha and . izuku just has like 22 soulmates yes

Shiggy again 🤤

So heres my theory about Tubbos house being some form of haunted, just based off of my knowledge of Tubbo and Ranboo and not my knowledge of horror

Tubbo watched a bunch of local 58 videos, then didnt sleep that night. Thats when his weird creepy nightmares started, where sometimes they would still feel real or carry on after he woke up.

Then Ranboo got to the UK, after a month, Tubbo said he stopped having those creepy dreams, but then Ranboo said he had a dream where he realistically felt like he got stabbed, and died.

Ranboo got kind of sick, then spotted "something" outside near the tree, soon after Tubbo had been out there on the swing, he could see it through the window but when he grabbed his phone and went out to take a picture of it, it was gone. Alot of people said he Let it in.

That same night Ranboo kept Tubbo awake when he was yelling and banging on the wall in his sleep, he also said creepy cryptic things such as "Welcome Boys and Girls" and "it feels like theres a thousand gloves"

For the next few days Ranboo got more and more sick, getting red spots on his arm, describing it as a "zombie arm" before he got better.

Now its awfully quiet

“decorative object” is so vague I love it….I want to be a decorative object….blow me into a tiny glass crystal ball embedded atop a golden snail and sell me on anthropologie.com for $32 free shipping on orders $50+