writing club. (Open)

Yo I have a question.
So I’m writing a character in a Hunger Games AU with sensory issues, and while I have sensory issues myself they’re mostly auditory and that’s not what I’m going for here.
So when the tributes get all dressed up for the tribute parade and stuff, I don’t imagine that the Capitol stylists would normally use products (hair, makeup, etc) that are friendly to those with sensitive skin or sensory issues, and I was wondering how exactly to write about that, if that makes sense at all.

for makeup:

it feels like there's something caked on your face that you need to get off, like dust. it's hard to resist the urge to lick lips with lipstick on, which feels like sticky paint. eyeliner and eyeshadow makes the eyes itch and water, and I find myself constantly rubbing/pressing my eyes to relieve the discomfort.

for clothes:

leather can feel stiff, like its syffocating the skin, when its not loose enough. sequins feel terrible. I personally can't wear them because I feel as though I need to walk with my arms out to keep them from rubbing against the plastic, which feels like a thousand fingernails digging into your skin. itchy tags is a stabbing pain. belts/corsets/bodices that are too tight cause stomach ache after a while. there are some fabrics that can become staticky and cling to skin, which is hell. jewelry can feel cold on a bare neck, or just generally annoying if it's too close to it (doesn't have to be a choker), or slides down the back if it's long, or gets under the shirt, etc… bracelets that are too loose and slide down the wrist when the forearm is positioned vertically are annoying as well. trying to get a zip-up dress/shirt off when the zipper is small or hard to zip is one of the most stressful things ever, especially when the dress is tight. shoes that aren't tight enough will rub against the skin and feel hard to walk quickly in, but shoes that are so tight they crush your toes are worse.

hope this helps

Came up a with reasonable birth-to-death story for Hartka and weaved her into the main plot in a day, meanwhile this Tommad one-shot has been taking me two weeks of on-and-off writing and I have a single paragraph that I might get rid of-

How's everyone else's writing doing?

woah congrats! character lore is so hard imo

my writings doing OK I guess? I feel likei have concepts. I have ideas. I just cannot put them into writing

also unrelated am I the only one who hates writing sad stuff for my characters??? like while I used to be crazy angsty now I feel like I'm always like "and she loves her family :) and he has a wife and kids:) and they're best friends :) and he runs in the woods and swims in the sea :) and anything bad that happens to them is for comedic effect :) or its in stark contrast to everything else also he lives in a lighthouse and calmly watches the water"

Urk- For whatever reason, I can't decide on literally ANYTHING about this spin-off excerpt whatever-it-is, so here's a bit of the draft before I decide to delete it- I'll probably rewrite it someplace else in the timeline because I'm out of ideas of how to extend what's here.

Also, content warning, near-death situation and grieving(?). I know not everyone's in the mood for that, so I'll spoiler it-

Spoiler - click to show.

He should've died then.

She knew it well, and she fought to scrub the event from her recollection. What good did it do to remember?

It was peaceful, almost, with the memory buried far within the mantle of her mind. Life could float on neat and orderly, like a sigh of wind sweeping the leaf-litter into place. Just like it should be.

But that fear had never truly gone – it lie dormant, instead, waiting to cast its icy grip upon her heart.

That dark cellar in the corner of her mind ate away at her, hissing its virulent vapors in the throes of her forgetting. It had extended its claws through the holes in the cellar door, and it raked at her subconscious begging, beseeching to be remembered. It cried to cloud her thoughts with a waking nightmare. She'd forget, wouldn't she?

No.

She was remembering now.

The reddened snow pooled before her, streaking away into the rippling tarn. A dazzle of setting sun pricked her eyes, and frigid water lapped at her moccasins. Her folk never gathered by the lake like this. Never in a thousand seasons! But there they were, gathered by the shore and clamoring over each other like a barrel of hummer-flies.

"Ersid?"

She'd scarcely caught her name, and her approach came slow, grudging, aching. Ersid knew. She knew, but she was pulled into the crowd.

There it was. The cellar door had burst open, and the nightmare was here. She was living that moment again – her heart withered to papery tatters and fell away. Ersid had seen the lurid image a thousand times, but it never lost its bite, never failed to freeze her solid.

A tiny body had been dredged from the waters, pale, pocked, and rended with countless wounds, near-frozen in the algid chill.

It was him.

Alternatively, I'll write some fluff and come back to this later- I'll think on it

Why does the last part sort of remind me of The Terror? (in a very good way!)
Very eerie, I like it

question for ya'll: How do you describe a characters appearance in story? I feel like anytime I try to describe extensively what a character looks like and is wearing, it feels clunky and breaks flow in the writing