The Stupid Fucking Guy I Think Is Cute Is At The Stupid Fucking Gym Right Now And I Haven’t Had Any

one day i'll actually start posting my fic but today is probably not that day

anyways on a bit of a roll art-wise so have this dumb doodle

Having an obscure OTP is a similar pain, in my opinion, to experiencing homophobia.

they have universal healthcare on afterforge

Br'aad got his top surgery done at ye olde Claires, Redd got his done by a sketchy guy in some random back alley, and Mountain did his himself

and Velrisa transitioned normally

i’m writing porn.

UHHHHHH UMMMM UHHHHH strangle macock in a cowboy hat. (the sniper on my position turns his safety off.)

oh god

more diaryposts because gxd is dead and this is my internet

i think maybe i am not afraid of love. i am afraid of the way i learned it. i am not afraid of parenthood- i want to be a father more than anything. i am afraid of the way i learned it. i am not afraid of boys. i am afraid of the way i learned to be one, to love one.

i spend my pocket money on liquor and show tickets and inhalants. i do not cut my hair. i wear ridiculous outfits and watch dirty movies i was not allowed to as a child. i am alive, alive, alive. i am living. i do not have to be liked. i do not have to be good. i do my best to be kind. it is enough.

i think he is good enough. i think i am good enough.

maybe it’ll all be good enough.

maybe it won’t be and i’ll be thirty. maybe is not enough. you cannot build a life on a maybe. you cannot rule beyond reasonable doubt when working with a maybe. you have to sit with it, and let it decide. a maybe is only a maybe for a time. sooner or later, it becomes a choice. a choice is good enough to build on, to carve into a life, to forge into a future.

what is enough is my gentleness. gentleness and goodness are two brothers, cut of the same cloth, but one of them is a god and one of them is a man. i am a boy. i am becoming a man. i have to make myself reach for the man, not the god. there is no sin in gentleness. i do not need godhood. this, here, now, is enough. gentleness is enough.

the problem with getting better at writing is all the passion of all my old products is getting choked to death by the fact that i can’t bear to reread the segments i wrote as a fifteen year old jackass. but i also refuse to rewrite the 40-60k words that constitute the entire gxddamn half-baked plot.

also song of solomon 6:3 (the neon orange line) is “i am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” and it was the very first connection i drew. it doesn’t get the smeary-edged overlap every other overlapped line does. i just wanted to say that. because it makes me insane.

hey is this anything

(fated relationship chart)

i don’t think any of you understand. the impetus, the fucking click behind scythebelts for me, is not strictly romantic. it is that sylnan, his entire life, has been trying to hold on to everything he can and he never gets to. and velrisa, god fucking bless her, has been waiting for someone to hold on to her like that, like nobody really has.

the impetus, the fucking spark, the starting point for everything i write for them, is based upon the gutsense fucking horror of seeing someone reach for you and not knowing if they mean to catch you for certain or just until you’re not useful.

everything else is just fluff and filler. the cleric/rogue dramatics, the high contrast, the jokes, the mutual admiration, the aesthetics- all of it is fluff and filler. good, but just not why i love it.

at core and center, they are holding on to each other until they are bleeding from the goddamn fingernails because nothing else is willing to stay as static and calm as they are. nobody else- not as though it is a personal failing on anyone else’s part, it is simply the way things go- is willing to cling on as hard for some chance at steady ground. sylnan and vel are. that’s what makes me write em.