Gangsta Avengers AU
Wherein the avengers are a secret vigilante group that eventually find each other and go after criminals the hard way.
Some body write this who isn’t me.
*casually slips these in*
Literally just happened:
"is that an Avengers gangster AUOHMYGOD *screech*"
Let me just add this….
I’ll just leave this here..
Meet the Reykjavík Metropolitan Police, serving the capital of Iceland. By the looks of their incredible Instagram account, a normal day includes holding kittens, eating candy and wearing false mustaches.
the cat makes this pic
Some harsh but very very true words
When people let me review their portfolios (on career day or open days at my game design school) I explicitly ban them from commenting during the review… …because otherwise they will follow the impulse to downplay everything I see in an attempt at being humble.
"this is an old image…"
"I’m not happy with that one…"
"this is just a sketch…"
"I did this really quickly…"
"there is better stuff on later pages…"
It’s totally understandable to have those impulses. The quality of art is not empirical data and therefore impossible to measure. Good art, bad art, it all comes down to standards. And you don’t want to come off as naive or self-absorbed.
But just don’t do it. Don’t talk yourself down in front of others. In the best case you have someone supportive who now thinks “damn, this person needs to be prepped up all the time. Do I really want to work with somebody like that” or in worst case “now that you say it, yeah, this is kinda lame/rushed/unfinished/lazy, go away.”
You can only submit what you have. If that is not enough, then it’s not enough. Your attitude will not change that. But if it is enough, you can do serious harm by not being confident of who you are now.
This means appreciating what you are able to do right now and have a clear vision of what you want to learn, be confident that you will learn it in time.
This is really important. Eliminate this urge. Eliminate it professionally, when having contact with people in a position to buy your work. Eliminate it socially, when you just share your work for fun. Destroy this urge as thoroughly as you possibly can.
Because when you have done that, you’ll find that you feel at least 25% less shitty about your own work. You lose the urge to do it. You stop reinforcing those negative thoughts, and they retreat. They may never go away completely (although they might!) but this is good practice for ignoring those thoughts flat-out.
Don’t shit-talk yourself. Even if you can’t be SO PROUD, don’t ever try to influence anyone’s opinion toward your work in the negative.
Try to love your work. Try to see what you learned from each piece, even if it’s a failure. If you feel that you learned nothing, appreciate the fact that just spending time on it is honing your skills and giving you valuable practice.
i used to be super not-confident in my own work. When I stopped pointing out the flaws in my own stuff, I felt better about it almost immediately.
it’s been at least 5 years, i think, since i allowed myself to say anything about my work more negative than “that one’s not up to my standard now but i’m proud of how much i learned while doing it.”
in that time, absolutely no one has been offended by my self-confidence or liked my work less because i wasn’t ‘humble’ about it. no one has tried to take me down a peg or punish me for being happy.
i know that a lot of us, in childhood, had bad experiences with parents, teachers, or others telling us we were ‘showing off’ or ‘getting a swelled head’ or ‘getting too big for your britches’ if we showed any pride in ourselves. that was WRONG and it’s a thing we need to get over, not something to carry into adulthood.
i had one teacher who spent the entire year looking for opportunities to chew me out in front of the whole class for “thinking you’re better than everyone else” whenever i did well at something. that wasn’t a life lesson on humility. that was emotional abuse. i’m willing to bet a lot of y’all who feel panicky if anyone can tell you’re proud are coming from similar situations. FIGHT IT. you deserve the credit for your hard work.
got places to go, things to carry, and difficult terrain to tediously traverse.
IT’S ALWAYS TEA TIME!
Scarlet Rose I found your lip gloss!
I NEED IT
Give it to me
So yall just not gon give us the name of this beautiful item?
click the first letter of your first name please just trust me on this
what the fUCK
you wanna fight? alright let’s take this outside! the stars are so bright tonight. the moon looks so nice. hold my hand
Next time you are having dinner with a Bahraini dignitary, don’t embarrass yourself by confusing the Queen’s abaya with a burqa.
I laminated a paper towel
why does this have 31 thousand notes
You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.
But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity
Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.
However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.
Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.
So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!
But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.
Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.
The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.
But you remain.
Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.
All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.
But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?
Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.
The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.
Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever.
Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning?
OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON
AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN
T OW E L
I D K
Write. A. Book.
What if I did write a book
and the pages of that book
were made out of
IT’S 2 O CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING AND I’M HOWLING MY MOM JUST WALKED IN AND NOW I HAVE TO TURN THE COMPUTER OFF FUCK IT WAS SO WORTH IT
I don’t understand, it’s just a dude running with some musi—/SCREAMING
what the fuck happened here
LISTEN UP MOTHER FUCKERS
ITS CALLED WOLFRAM ALPHA
THIS IS THE BEST GODDAMN WEBSITE FOR ACADEMIC SHIT. FUCK GOOGLE.
THIS MOTHERFUCKER WILL LET YOU SEARCH “HOSPITAL BEDS IN CHAD VS. IRAN”
AND IT GIVES YOU A STRAIGHT GODDAMN ANSWER
MAYBE YOU’RE NOT INTERESTED IN DOCTORNESS OF THIRD WORLD COUNTRIES COOL SHIT
HAVING TROUBLE WITH MATH?
OR MAYBE YOU WANNA DICK AROUND
WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT
reasons why tumblr aids education