lunolu

[lunolu]

I'm here/ I'm home

[lunolu]

Unreliable narrators are one hell of an idea. You can just write whatever, and if a reader points out "hey the way this scene happened should not be physically possible if it's done the way this character described it", you can just be like "yeah I don't trust that fucker either."

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its make a terrible comic day which means i MUST draw incomprehensible gender autobio comic

[lunolu]

observation: among a certain subset of tumblr users, the term “blorbo” has become unchic, but the concept it describes is still important; and so it has been replaced with “The Character”

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Generations of locking the fuck in.

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Apparently there was some kind of race scheduled at a local park or something so I've been trying to avoid the main trail but a little while ago when I had to cross near it I overheard the following shouted exchange

Higher feminine voice: woo, look at you go! You're jogging! Keep it up!

Lower masculine voice (panting): you know it! Last place is still a place, baby!

And goddamn if that didn't rewire my brain a little bit.

Last place is still a place, baby.

[lunolu]

hello!

[lunolu]

[lunolu]

Describing how I experience my asexuality is wild because I feel like when I talk to anyone other than my wife about it, I get looked at like im saying the moon is landing is fake or the earth is flat.

The way I experience asexuality is like looking at a gallery of all different kinds of art. The feeling of having no sexual attraction, to me, is best described as looking at a beautiful painting of a landscape. You can see the flaws in it, the brush strokes, the colors, the perspective, and the technical ability needed to make such a thing, and you suddenly feel a divine sense of awe. But you dont want to fuck the landscape painting.

Thats how it feels for me to experience no sexual attraction. Because even though I dont have sexual attraction to anyone in particular (male, female, nonbinary, etc) i can still admit when someone is beautiful.

But being asexual, as many asexuals already know, doesn't mean you're always repulsed by the act of sex. I would consider myself a sensory seeking, sex positive asexual. Which to me means that while I don't experience sexual attraction to anyone, I can still desire the sensation of sex and the closeness I'd feel with a partner. I can still desire the sensory experience and pleasure of sex without feeling sexual attraction. But I also don't need to do it in order to be happy in my life or relationships. It's just a fun little added bonus if I have a partner willing. And just because I can have sex and sometimes want it doesn't make me any less asexual than any other ace.

[lunolu]

[lunolu]

biting your forehead friday

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tumblr is basically a gay bar in a mental institute

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Ways I Show a Character is Emotionally Burned Out (Before They Even Realize It Themselves)

I love writing characters who think they’re fine but are actually walking emotional house fires with bad coping mechanisms.

They stop doing the things they used to love and don’t even notice. Their guitar gathers dust. Their favorite podcast becomes background noise. Their hobbies feel like homework now.

They pick the path of least resistance every time, even when it hurts them. No, they don’t want to go to that thing. No, they don’t want to talk to that person. But whatever’s easier. That’s the motto now.

They’re tired but can’t sleep. Or they sleep but wake up more tired. Classic burnout move: lying in bed with their brain racing like a toddler on espresso.

They give other people emotional advice they refuse to take themselves. “You have to set boundaries!” they say—while ignoring 8 texts from someone they should’ve cut off three emotional breakdowns ago.

They cry at something stupidly small. Like spilling soup. Or a dog in a commercial. Or losing their pen. The soup is never just soup.

They say “I’m just tired” like it’s a personality trait now. And not like… emotionally drained to the bone but afraid to admit it out loud.

They ghost people they love, not out of malice, but because even replying feels like too much. Social battery? Absolutely obliterated. Texting back feels like filing taxes.

They stop reacting to big things. Catastrophes get a blank stare. Disasters feel like “just another Tuesday.” The well of feeling is running dry.

They avoid being alone with their own thoughts. Constant noise. TV always on. Music blasting. Because silence = reckoning, and reckoning is terrifying.

They start hoping something will force them to stop. An accident. A missed deadline. Someone else finally telling them, “You need a break.” Because asking for help? Unthinkable.

[lunolu]

“imagine caring so much about fiction” imagine being so lame that you scoff at the timeless human practice of falling in love with art and stories

[lunolu]

Your Idol

[lunolu]

if you’re a baby trans and you haven’t started smoking cigarettes or vaping yet don’t. it’s actually not that hot or interesting. It will just cause you ungodly frustrations and suffering and cost you a bunch of money and be next to impossible to quit

[lunolu]

✨🏳️‍⚧️ A short pride comic, hope you’re all well 🏳️‍⚧️✨