xdemonicxace

[xdemonicxace]

Senpai says you’re welcome

[xdemonicxace]

hey y’all

Robert Roberson is about to be executed tomorrow in Texas. Yet another innocent person will face the death penalty, despite prejudicial testimony and an unproven theory.

please take the time to call or email using this form from Innocence Project. it takes like 2 minutes.

read more about his case and why the courts in Texas need to change here:

[xdemonicxace]

This won’t make your blog look ugly. How could you not reblog this? REBLOGGING THIS COULD SAVE A LIFE!!!

[xdemonicxace]

Weirdly anti-millennial articles have scraped the bottom of the barrel so hard that they are now two feet down into the topsoil

[xdemonicxace]

Download this easy DIY clothing repair guide (only 10 pages) from Uni of Kentucky

link to PDF

[xdemonicxace]

happy Thursday the 20th

[xdemonicxace]

Me five years ago: what if it was space vs sea?

artfight 2024: IT IS SPACE (stardust) VS SEA(foam)

I feel both vindicated and indecisive

[xdemonicxace]

I did this for artfight a while back

[xdemonicxace]

A new mode of production arises out of the newly networked masses.

[xdemonicxace]

too sleepy to elaborate at this time but I miss the old fandom culture of interacting with fanfic writers and fanfic artists as members of the fandom community who enjoyed engagement and discussion and feedback instead of the modern trend of seeing us as content creators up on a pedestal who don't need positive feedback but DO need to churn out constant content to feed the a03 machine

[xdemonicxace]

When I was a (unmedicated, undiagnosed ADHD) kid, like, under 12, my room was a mess all the time. Not shocking.

I struggled keeping it clean.

I struggled getting it clean.

I would sincerely put in quite a bit of effort and be really proud of the progress I made. Then one of my parents would come check and see how I was doing.

"Well, you've still got a long way to go."

That sentence. I was like, 11 when my parents were saying that to me. It was crushing. All my pride and satisfaction with my work was completely gone. All my effort was worthless to them. All they saw what everything I didn't do.

At the age of ELEVEN, I knew that wasn't right. That wasn't fair. I swore to myself I would never invalidate someone's work like that.

Now, at 30, I catch myself thinking 'I cleaned up, but my apartment is still so messy.' and I flashback to standing in my bedroom as a child, hearing those fucking words from my parents.

'No. I wouldn't invalidate someone else's work. I'm not going to invalidate my own. I did good. I made progress.' and I'll list the things that I DID get done to myself.

You deserve credit for all the progress you make.

You deserve credit for all the work you do.

It doesn't matter how much work you have left.

What you accomplish, no matter how small, counts. Even when what you accomplished was taking a day to rest and recharge and give yourself a break.

Never let anyone invalidate your work. Not even you.

[xdemonicxace]

[xdemonicxace]

HEY THIS IS IMPORTANT whats your favorite place to find drawing references?

[xdemonicxace]

[xdemonicxace]

This is a comment someone appended to a photo of two men apparently having sex in a very fancy room, but it’s also kind of an amazing two-line poem? “His Wife has filled his house with chintz” is a really elegant and beautiful counterbalancing of h, f, and s sounds, and “chintz” is a perfect word choice here—sonically pleasing and good at evoking nouveau riche tackiness. And then “to keep it real I fuck him on the floor” collapses that whole mood with short percussive sounds—but it’s still a perfect iambic pentameter line, robust and a lovely obscene contrast with the chintz in the first line. Well done, tumblr user jjbang8

[xdemonicxace]

me holding a gun to a mushroom: tell me the name of god you fungal piece of shit

mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters

me cocking the gun, tears streaming down my face: I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU