luna13e-blog

[luna13e-blog]

“ok lets do warm up sketch”

“oh..”

[luna13e-blog]

Circadian rhythm? No no, I said *Cicadian* Rhythm. I get a good night's sleep once every hundred years and spend the rest of my time screaming pointlessly

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i hope that podficcers know they provide an invaluable service to society, which is "can enjoy a damn good fic while doing laundry/dishes" and "bedtime story except i dont have to sear my eyes out" and "the act of transforming this into spokenform has added another layer to the narrative" and so on and so forth

[luna13e-blog]

i feel like people forget that sometimes characters in fic are written like that because it's a reflection of real life.

people have sex without setting boundaries. people have unprotected sex without talking about their sexual histories or producing recent sti tests. people play with kink without discussing it ahead of time or establishing a safeword. they have anal without 'enough' prep or lube—they may even prefer it like that.

and none of this is really a fantasy. it's all pretty normal. you can feel that it's inappropriately normalised, and you'd probably be right! but it is normalised: one study found that 58% of female undergraduate students on the campus studied had been choked during sex. 20% of those students said that they'd never been asked if it was ok; another 30% said they'd only sometimes been asked if they consented. fully half! (non-paywalled journal article on choking during sex here, including these numbers.) despite a rise in stis of all sorts, condom use is declining. (pdf link to the full text of this study about declining condom use in the us; aidsmap article about an australian study with similar results.)

even when people do talk about things—sex or anything else—they communicate imperfectly. 'yeah, but don't go too far' is consenting and setting a boundary, and also relying that the person you're talking to has the same metric for 'too far' that you do. for some people, 'the trash needs to go out' is a neutral, factual observation; for others, it's a request that the person they're speaking to take out the trash.

even when people understand each other perfectly, people react unpredictably to things sometimes! we behave irrationally! people laugh uncontrollably at funerals, or get angry at the straw that broke their back rather than the enormous load they were already carrying. they get scared and lash out at people trying to help them. when hurt, most people do not instinctively reach for therapy-approved grounding exercises and 'i feel' statements.

pretty much any bad choice that characters could conceivably make is a choice that people make in real life, on purpose, all the time. people do things that can have catastrophic, life-changing effects because it felt like a good idea at the time, or they're leaning into the vibe, or they just didn't think about it all that much, or an infinite number of other reasons.

fiction isn't intended as a guide on the best, safest, and most responsible ways to live your life, and fanfic isn't any different. it's not a narrative flaw to let characters do things that are messy or harmful or downright stupid—it's a reflection of what people are actually like, and not something that authors should feel they have to apologise for.

[luna13e-blog]

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A kinda behind the scenes view of a self portrait shoot - where you can see the light panel I made in the background from an old TV as I hold my phone in my hands (which is showing what my camera sees) to try and move about to find a shot where the lighting works nicely.

[luna13e-blog]

5 Tiny Writing Tips That Aren’t Talked About Enough (but work for me)

These are some lowkey underrated tips I’ve seen floating around writing communities — the kind that don’t get flashy attention but seriously changed how I write.

1. Put “he/she/they” at the start of the sentence less often.

Try switching up your sentence rhythm. Instead of

“She walked to the window,”

try

“The window creaked open under her touch.”

Keeps it fresh and stops the paragraph from sounding like a checklist.

2. Don’t describe everything — describe what matters.

Instead of listing every detail in a room, pick 2–3 objects that say something.

“A half-drunk mug of tea and a knife on the table”

sets a way stronger tone than

“There was a wooden table, two chairs, and a shelf.”

3. Use beats instead of dialogue tags sometimes.

Instead of:

"I'm fine," she said.

Try:

"I'm fine." She wiped her hands on her skirt.

It helps shows emotion, and movement.

4. Write your first draft like no one will ever read it.

No pressure. No perfection. Just vibes. The point of draft one is to exist. Let it be messy and weird — future you will thank you for at least something to edit.

5. When stuck, ask: “What’s the most fun thing that could happen next?”

Not logical. Not realistic. FUN. It doesn’t have to stay — but chasing excitement can blast through writer’s block and give you ideas you actually want to write.

What’s a tip that unexpectedly helped with your writing? Let me know!! 🍒

[luna13e-blog]

have you ever noticed you pick up little habits and phrases from the people you love? it’s no wonder our hearts are so easily broken when people leave. we become a reflection of the people that we care about and those personality traits stick with us even if the people don’t

[luna13e-blog]

Juansen Dizon, i am the architect of my own destruction

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If you're good with your hands you're handy, and if you're good with your thoughts you're thoughtful. But if your want to do things with your hands is an inconvenience, you're a handful. Following this pattern, I am thoughty.

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being an adult in a fandom is so weird because by day i’m a person and by night i’m in a cult

[luna13e-blog]

It's crazy. Or not. Crazy isn't the right word.

We don't use crazy anymore. Is not polite.

This is..:

Infuriating. Frustrating. Exasperating.

It's 'knot in your stomach, silent growl in your throat, jaw so set it hurts'. And I can't find a word for that.

Broken.

It's broken.

No, that's wrong.

I am broken.

I. Full stop. Am. Hitched breath. Broken. Trembling sigh.

It's me, isn't it?

It is. I am broken.

And it's not fair.

It. Nails digging in the flesh. Is. Shoulders tensing. Not. Grinding teeth. Fair.

I was happy. I sang and laughed and smiled with the kind of smile that wrinkles around your eyes.

And then I was not.

I. Hands shaking. Was. Throat closing. Suddenly. Eyes closing. Miserable.

A shortcut in my head. A ghost pain. Emotional ghost pain.

Unprovoked. Unprompted.

It doesn't really exists, there is no wound anymore.

But it hurts.

Make it stop

It hurts.

Why can I make it stop?

HURTS. HURTS. HURTS.

Please, stop. Please, stop, pleasemakeitstop.

BROKEN.

Why can't I make it stop?

Because it's broken. I am broken.

Damaged. Wonky. Jagged.

There's a fuse deep in here that blews up and makes bright joy in dark despair in the blink of an eye.

Nothing has happened and yet everything is.

Tummy aching. Brows furrowing. Muscles clenching.

And maybe from afar is beautiful to see a star burning, but no one wants to be naked in the middle of it.

And somehow, I always am.

[luna13e-blog]

astronomy club sent up a weather balloon w a gopro in it last friday. put in three packs of fruit snacks so they could have a giggle over eating fruit snacks that had been to space.

balloon went up into inner space, about 90,000 feet. came down right near the dinosaur park. a few physics teachers drive out to get it, crack it open on the way home to start watching the footage.

fruit snacks are missing.

multiple sources confirm that fruit snacks were put in balloon and sealed in with duct tape. physics teachers check entire balloon. no fruit snacks.

physics teachers watch footage. all 7 hours of it. right in the middle of footage, there are about 8 minutes of visual and audio static when balloon is in orbit. no other interference with balloon recorded.

conclusions: ???????

[luna13e-blog]

The birds are chirping outside the window again and I'm still awake. It wasn't such a common occurrence when you were here. Your warm embrace was always a good excuse to push my insomnia aside.

I've been thinking about you lately. Since I texted you on your birthday. Bland and too polite, but it was a decent birthday text. Or I think it was.

You didn't text on mine.

It isn't a reproach, I still know you're taking it as one. It isn't. I always knew I'm the one with a bad habit of not letting things go.

I can't say I miss you anymore, though. And I'm afraid I'm forgetting you.

When you left I tried to remember the last time we kissed and I couldn't. I blamed it on the domesticity of it all. I tried to remember during endless sleepless nights without succeeding. Later I couldn't remember the last time I drowned a moan against your skin. The last time I made you laugh. When I think about those last months, and I don't do it often, you weren't really there.

The memories that cross my mind are more and more from our early days. Your dark hair that you later dyed orange, the youthful cheeks you lost with the years and your sarcastic smirk. The first night I melt on your fingers. Our fort of blankets in my childhood bed. Even the first fight we had, when the me you dreamt made you mad and it took you half a day to realize it was a dream.

You haven't been that girl for much more than we have been apart. I miss her, but that isn't you anymore.

Now you probably even aren't the one that left me. And I'm not the one you left behind.

The birds are chirping. Life goes on.

And I still haven't learnt to sleep in the middle of the bed.

[luna13e-blog]

I wanted you to be able to lean against me when you are tired. July 6, 1898 Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: a love story in letters (1897-1926)