Cranberry Gimlet.

late Halloween post. Boyfriends carving pumpkins 🎃

Not exactly the best at using this site, but hey, here's a small introduction, which'll be a decent start to the portion of this blog which is just a diary.

I'm going by Jason on this blog, this name, like most info I'll share, is edited to protect my anonymity. As long as it isn't my identity, I'll try to keep as honest and consistent as possible, so please let me know if I contradict myself.

I'm, as far as I've been able to determine, Ace/Aro, I work in a dead end Corpo job, I read webnovels and play pornographic games, and tend to heavily prefer content focused around people with Phalluses or who are left ambiguous enough that I may imagine they do.

Due to the nature of my interests, I find myself having to tactfully ignore the, at times, tasteless terminology used by the game's creators and user base. As you may imagine, not all pornographers are terribly respectful of their target demo. I'll say here, once and only once, that I do not bide by the schools of thought of such individuals.

So yeah, that's the intro post. There will be more of these, I'm sure. And to the three people I had to follow for tumblr to let me customize my blog, sorry for looking like a bot, lol.

The question of 'is it something you like or does it just replace something you don't?' haunts every single one of my preferences and opinions.

Just curious! What brush do you use for lining your comics?

IT'S THE MOTHERFUCKING

CIRCLE, BABY!!!!

THAT'S RIGHT

NO GIMMICKS

NO ANGLES

ALL CURVES

ANTIALIASING??

MORE LIKE ANTI-ALI-MY ASS-ING, GET THAT SHIT OUDDAHERE

125 PX ON A 4000 PX CANVAS, THAT'S RIGHT, WE GO BIG HERE AND WE GO HOME AND THEN AT HOME WE GO EVEN BIGGER

I GOT CLIP STUDIO AND THEN SET IT UP LIKE MS PAINT JUST TO FLEX ON ADOBE AND MICROSOFT, WHO ARE CRYING IN THE CORNER AND PISSING THEMSELVES, BEGGING ME, "PLEASE LEARN WHAT A LAYER IS"

BUT I CAN'T HEAR THEM

MY ART IS TOO LOUD

I've spent a lot of my life depressed for reasons unrelated to my identity. Life has a unique talent for beating the unprepared harder, and while my lot was not the hardest, I was certainly ill fit to bear its weight. When I eventually dragged myself, cold and wet, from its grasp I found myself wishing to be numb again and wishing I knew what it was like to truly care about something.

In that vein, I've always had a fascination with love and romantic affection. A combination of being denied tenderness for the half of my life I could still remember and a genuine desire to study what I didn't understand left me with an insatiable desire to consume tender, romantic media.

The idea of the thing appealed to me like the willpower of a warrior training, or the righteous anger of a hero who has lost their home. Something that gave you just a taste of what they were feeling just by watching them feel it, but whose scale you probably could not emulate. Those emotions are for characters in stories, as fictional as the magics or demons they face.

Did you know that there are special nerves in your skin that are designed for social touch? They have a direct line to the serotonin response and take 3 real world seconds to get there. This is the nerve that causes/cures touch starvation, the reason why characters can feel the lips of a lovers kiss for seconds afterward as their lips tingle electrically, the reason why a character can be wrapped in a hug in shock for a few seconds before they break down crying in grief.

All of these I thought were artistic fiction. Like someone with aphantasia learning that others really do visualize things, or me realizing other people store memories in video. It also brought up a question I posed to my therapist: "why, if I've been without social contact for most of my life, am I not touch starved?'

She answered in two options:

1 - everyone is different, and some people have more or less of certain needs.

2 - how do you know you're not?

The Messenger’s invitation

There's something so inherently vulnerable about dentist's offices, even beyond the hands in your mouth. It's the turning of your head before they tell you to, the forcible relaxing of an involuntary tensing up, opening yourself wider and feeling ashamed that they even had to ask you.

Like, I am not, by any stretch in my daily life, a bottom. But at a dentist's office or hair salon, I become so willing to do things for another person, bordering on the sublime desire. I think this is what submissives experience in every interaction.

heard they’re making it easier tomorrow. not sure if it’s true, but don’t you wanna find out?

a few weeks ago I just discovered that banded amethysts exist, which are really pretty yk

again, quite pretty :D

Then I found this bowl:

Its a beautiful bowl, and i wouldn't usually use it for food

because it's perfect for holding all my fucks to give.