#write-up

[realitymirage]

Howdy, everyone!

Greetings! It is I, Cicada, and I am here to share with you all a progress report, along with very important news...

UNDERSWAP: A NEW DAWN's first chapter is in development!!

Yes, that's right, UNDERSWAP: A NEW DAWN's first chapter is in the works, along with REALITY MIRAGE Chapter 1 as well!!

While I have no set release date, I have a break from school for a while, so I'm sure it won't be far away!

And, you know what this means...

We are looking for team members!!

That's right! After working and working, I have finally decided that now would be a good time to form a team! The link to the application form will be at the end.

We are currently looking for:

Pixel Artists.

General Artists.

Writers.

That's all, really! Since the project will be in write-up format, there really isn't much that we need... Plus, music will probably only be introduced if REALITY MIRAGE gets popular enough.

Art created:

Frisk, Chara, and Gaster's dialogue portraits!

Gaster looks a little silly, I know, haha...

NEW-DAWN!Chara and Frisk's portraits as well!

Frisk won't walk much, obviously, but I thought it would be nice to make their sprite as well!

Well, that's all!

I hope you all have an amazing rest of your day, afternoon, or night! and, don't forget...

STAY DETERMINED!

Application Form: https://forms.gle/5RJCuBNoyUj2HvFv9

#undertale #undertale au #undertale: reality mirage #underswap #info #progress update #team application #application form #write-up #frisk #chara #gaster #underswap: a new dawn

[filthevoid]

July has always been kind, what you might want to hope is for other people to be as well—and you to yourself.

#writing prompt #write-up #july #poetry #mood #poetic #happy july #prose #book quote #month #kindness

[thewritingark]

The Footsteps

The footsteps across the path she crossed, were the inspiration of the nightmares in which she was lost. Those footsteps made the path uneven; they were embedded in it after all.

Every time, she wanted to take a different road, full of adventures abode, she tripped on the footprints, that trapped her there, the moment she felt aware. The other one would be bad or even worse, she thought while she was handcuffed by the curse of her memories.

The footsteps she was scarred by, Belonged to the person who once made her fly, But she never knew, she took her first flight in a trapped sky.

She revisited the days she was a sunflower, who followed her star, her sun with all her power. She was now a prisoner, unknown of the jailer, after all the road became her world now.

The girl who was trapped by a jailer in a jail, Now thought her home was that person who protected from the unknown, Little did she knew; she was being hidden behind a cruel veil.

She asked herself one day, how did the footsteps leave such a deep impact on her fate?

She then remembered, the person crossed the path when it was young, when the cement was wet. The footsteps were embedded when the cement was naïve, it was isolated when they met.

The footsteps sculpted her entire life now, which made her imprison herself in the prison constructed by her hands, she was just a puppet now, strangled by the death strands.

~ark

#writers and poets #writing #write-up #dark #dark aesthetic

[my-burnt-city]

Comfort and predictability?

There was a period last Thursday when I honestly thought I might wait for the cast list to drop and see how I felt about it before considering if I wanted to attend that evening’s show or not. I’m glad I didn’t, and not just because the Thursday cast list never did make it online. We all had a bit of a shock to our systems on Thursday; I wanted to see our show, and I wanted to be with people who understood how I was feeling. And, of course, it ended up being a really great show. For reasons I could have predicted, and otherwise...

It was a 2+ loop-show that night; I knew that I wanted to properly test the ghost loop concept and I knew that I wanted to spend time with favourites, so it was an absolute no-brainer that I decided to start my evening with an Aegisthus loop. I arrived in Mycenae to the familiar strains of Bartok and headed straight upstairs, where I was able to see the below-the-door light-flickerings of the 1:1 room. Obviously the next chunk of an Aegisthus loop doesn’t involve a great deal of travel but I didn’t cheat it; I listened to the music, I watched the subtle lighting changes, usually too subtle to stand out when the performers are present, and I worked hard to envision where on the table he would have been at any particular moment. Through the grief dance, through the entrails banquet, (through the record stop,) and down to the shower. When it felt like the right amount of time had passed for Aegisthus and Clytemnestra to have tenderly cleaned the blood off each other, I headed over to the arcade and stopped outside the Peep windows. For a moment, I wasn’t sure how to tell how accurate my timing was, given that this was loop one so I couldn’t expect to hear All Cried Out coming through the walls. But it was indeed only a moment, for just as I wondered if it was worth going over to a neighbouring space to find out where they were up to, a familiar figure in a long black coat walked in through the Palladium doors and climbed into the window.

Extremely pleased with my overwhelming success, I not only stuck with Aegisthus for the rest of loop 1, I also gave myself the now traditional treat of sticking around for the beginning of loop 2 in order to see his Hesperides dance, and it was of course WONDERFUL. After which I took myself to the familiar comforts of Peep for the rest of loop 2 to spend a little time with Tiny and Di, who had taken it upon themselves to buoy up everybody’s gloomy moods with their particular brand of absolute chaos and were accomplishing it ADMIRABLY.

I intended to finish my show by following Yilin’s Artemis, and enjoyed an extremely feral interlude with her in the Hinterlands, looking for all the world like she might snap at any moment and literally devour Agamemnon. But as we spread out into the wider space, I became slowly aware that there was a distinct absence of the usual activity levels, due to the unexpected absence of Neoptolemus! For a little while I was able to watch Artemis observing the scene, able to watch Agamemnon quietly and furiously converse with Patroclus, but then they started to go their separate ways and I had to make the choice – stick with my character and get a whole glorious Artemis loop, or switch to Pat and see what changes had to be made while waiting for a Neo who may or may not ever arrive.

One of the things that really sets live theatre apart is the capacity for things to go wrong, at any moment, without the option to just stop recording and have another try. But it’s not knowing that things could go wrong at any moment that makes it so exhilarating to watch, it’s knowing that you’re going to see something cool and unique while the performers deal with whatever unexpected occurrence the moment has thrown at them. So obviously I stuck with Pat. And although the changes to his loop weren’t super-drastic (it turns out Neo really isn’t that essential a character to the over-all narrative!), watching him go through his story without Neo there really changed the tone.

Without Neoptolemus, Agamemnon can still lure Iphigenia to her doom with the promise of marriage. It just makes it actively crueller that he didn’t even bother to get a fake husband, and makes Pat much more complicit as a witness when he’s acting as Agamemnon’s number two than when he’s more of a hanger-on. He continues to be far more active as a witness when the army gets to Troy, helping the Watchman prepare the basin in order for Polyxena to wash her own hands before ritually killing herself. With fewer people in the circle, it’s not safe for Polyxena to hang upside down, and so we all watch for an uncomfortably long time as a devastated Hecuba weeps over her daughter’s body, lying in the middle of the square for all to see. Pat can help carry the body to the relative privacy of Alighieri’s, but it doesn’t do anything to make up for how silently he stood by and watched, not even having a role of his own to carry out this time, just letting the scene before him unfold without even considering if he could or should do anything to stop it. When Iphigenia-as-Hecate arrives, finding Pat already marked by Hades, it feels very right today that Pat be the one she takes her revenge on. He’s no longer mere collateral damage, he is being directly punished for his part in the careless, casual, arguably needless deaths of two royal princesses.

For a few moments after Pat’s murder, I do wonder if he just plans to stay on the girders for a while, not having a Neo to dance with. But, delightfully, we are treated to a full (if somewhat briefer than I would have liked) solo death dance from Theo, and it is pretty fuckin awesome. It’s no great secret that I am a little bit feral about the occasions when Theo has played Polydorus, and I think a good part of that is because Theo is a brilliant solo dancer but Pat doesn’t really get very much to do on his own (and it’s not even worth talking about the Watchman where dancing is concerned). Any opportunity to see Theo let loose with some solo work is an opportunity well worth taking, so if they’re not going to let me have another Theodorus show before September 24th then we’re just going to have to keep our fingers crossed for the chance of another Lonely Pat (though hopefully without any injuries this time).

Anyway. It’s nice to know that even on a night when I am specifically seeking solace in the comforting predictable arms of the familiar, even the familiar can still surprise me. It’s been a little while since I left a show fizzing in excitement about seeing something brand-new and exceedingly cool, and it’s awesome that it can still happen, even at this deep deep point of my obsession.

This fucking show (affectionate)

THIS FUCKING SHOW

#the burnt city #burnt city #punchdrunk #punchdrunk theatre #immersive theatre #immersive #write-up #write-up extract #aegisthus #patroclus #lonely pat #theo arran

[ravegirlrevelry]

3 months in the making, I've written a massive writeup on one of my all time favorite music compilation series: All Nighter by FORM! It's chock-full of music and recs, and it's (in my opinion) well worth the read. I would very much appreciate it if you gave it a look!

#music #music recommendation #svntax recommends music #write-up #music writer #electronic music #pop music #hard rock #metalhead #acoustic #it's got everything honestly #there's something in here for everyone i think

[suzufield]

Man this is fucked up I can't imagine the survivor's guilt that Frank has on so many levels, because Archy died and he for sure thinks it's his fault. Like

Archy had failed at enlisting, because he was underage. If Frank hadn't suggested they travel together to Perth where he could help him pass as older and falsify a birth certificate, he would've just given up and gone home like normal.

Frank managed to get transferred to the Light Horse so he could be with Archy. So, had Frank not been there, Archy would've been forced to be the runner and thus would've been out of harm's way completely, but Frank being there meant Archy could just designate him to be the runner instead and still fight on the front (and then die).

Frank for sure feels guilty about not having run fast enough to halt the attack before it happened; if he had been there just 30 seconds before, the order that sent the troops (which Archy was apart of) to a certain death wouldn't have been given.

Also he does not know this but... For me it makes it worse that Archy also felt guilty. He felt guilty about Frank having enlisted alongside him, because he felt that it was his fault. Before meeting him, Frank never would've followed anyone into the war. It's Archy's presence that convinced him.

So Archy deciding that Frank should be the one to do the "safe" job is because he's come all this way just to fight and wouldn't want to miss out now, but also because he felt bad about dragging Frank into this. He sees how scared Frank is and feels partially responsible for it, so he decides to put him out of harm's way...

He wanted to start a bike shop...

#I'm just. ughhh #gallipoli 1981 #if I post enough about this at least one (1) person will be tempted to watch it #also I'm drawing a comic for it later #write-up #gallipoli

[arabelovee]

//Birthday Blues

I turn 19 in approximately 34 hours from now. This year, I've taught myself to expect nothing. Birthday//just another day. The fear of that one day that was meant to be mine turning into just another day, wasn't supposed to consume me like it is right now. I worked for an entire year, non-stop to ensure that. I kept my heart on my sleeve to ensure that my birthday wasn't that one motif that for once made me keep expectations, of any sort. I had learned to expect nothing from anyone/anything over any aspect; except for this one day.

I've always been the birthday planner in every group. I enjoyed making their special day as special as it could ever get. Surprises, thoughtful gifts, special treatment, you name it. I never really expected anything in return of it, because honestly, no matter how cliché it is, it was the happiness they showed that made everything seem like it was worth it. Also, I was a pro. I doubt anyone had the ability to ever do half of what I could.

But maybe somewhere in the back of my head, expectations had brewed their own nest. I craved to be surprised on my birthday, I craved for extra love, heck, I just craved love. Only to get disappointed for the first 18 years of my life. I realized, my birthday was just special to me, no one else really cared as much. So last year, I made up my mind to feel the same way others felt about this day. No expectations, I told myself. But boy, is hope the strongest feeling in the world. Just the thought of not hoping for a miracle that might stop me from crying on my birthday made my eyes swell up even more. What if I fuck up again? What if my heart gets broken, again? What if I'm still low-key looking forward to a "happy" birthday? I don't know.

I don't know what's worse; the pain of failed birthdays or the pain of giving up on trying to be happy on my birthday again.

#write #writersoftumblr #writeup #sad #birthday #birthdayblues #tumblr #tumblrdaily #happy #happybirthday #19 #19thbirthday #bday #19bday #19thbday #hbd #expectations #pinterest #write-up #daily #dailyart #art #journal #my writing #poem #writers of tumblr #birth day #happy birthday

[cupcakecoterie]

Text-Only Session Write-Up

@true0neutral - Hazel, half-elf cleric

@hyperewok1 - Remi, human paladin/warlock

@miaaoi - Farideh, dragonborn sorcerer

@lindira - Clarity, tiefling rogue/warlock

Marion - Ava, human ranger

Brian - Barnabus, minotaur fighter

@lovefrometernity - Rylan, wood elf sorcerer

Since I have a cognitive function-impairing headache, I managed to forget to record tonight’s session. And since I didn’t have reminder or backup courtesy @fauxfire76 tonight, I’m just going to have to write things up the best I can. It’s a shame, though, because there was some really good RP tonight. Ah well. Accidents happen.

As they were preparing to give the effigies a proper send-off, Alisaie had a thought: she and Hazel can both raise the dead, if they hadn’t been dead too long. After some discussion, and sorrow that they couldn’t do anything with the Barnabus and Farideh effigies owing to lack of heads, and Clarity rolling particularly well to remove the horns from where they’d been nailed to her effigy’s skull (that effigy was Lisa, Sigwald’s friend that they met in the Blind Harpy the first time around), they decided to go for it.

Unfortunately, when Alisaie asked for a tarp to protect the kitchen table owing to it being about to have corpses on it, Ava and Rylan went to check for a linen cupboard downstairs, where they hadn’t swept for traps yet. Ava caused some superficial damage to the parlour by setting off a fire spell trap but managed to dodge the worst of it. Rylan set fire to the library, and their scarf. They managed to save the desk and whatever was in it (probably; they haven’t checked yet) but all the books were a lost cause between fire, Farideh’s frost breath and buckets of water from the well that was fit for little more than extinguishing a fire.

(That was because the well was full of corpse bits, including the mutilated head of Yusuf, the gentleman they’d travelled through Grey’s Inn with on their very first journey and whose body had been used for Barnabus’ effigy because it was the only body in the region large enough. This spares us the dig through the notes for his name, @lindira!)

After they extinquished the library and decided they could just scrub the kitchen table, they brought back the Remi effigy - a fourteen-year-old named Griselda, who freaked out at the sight of Ava, Barnabus, and to a slightly lesser extent Farideh. Thanks to two natural 20s from Hazel on Persuation, they learned that a woman who had at least briefly looked like Ava was having an argument with a red dragonborn with a gnarly hand and a ‘bull-man’, with Arkhan saying that this was all unnecessary and Ava’s half-sister saying that she wanted “to make them hurt”. From Gris, and later from Megan (the late-teens girl who was the Ava effigy), they learned that Ava’s half-sister had taken their effigy-fodder from all over the barony, using Arkhan’s Hand of Vecna as a sort of glorified chariot service to do it. Also that all the families of those taken were slaughtered.

Alisaie used Legolas as a very large distraction for Gris and Megan, neither of whom were up for looking at people who reminded them so much of their tormentors. Neither of them had ever seen that much moose.

Then they got to Lisa, who had a fair bit more information. She’d ended up in the dungeons of what they assumed was Castle Blackcrown, and they’d kept her alive and conscious when making the physical alterations required to make her look at least somewhat like a tiefling. It also meant she heard a fair bit about Arkhan being dubious about Ava’s half-sister’s plan as regards Tiamat, though everyone was quite impressed with her remembering and processing as much as she did given she was having horns nailed to her skull for some of it. With some very good Intelligence checks, they figured out that Tiamat was gearing up to use Ava’s half-sister as her avatar on the Prime Material Plane, and eventually to embody fully on the Prime Material through her.

They also figured out, through a different set of checks, that they wouldn’t have left the victim they knew was friendly with the Cupcake Coterie alive and conscious while they discussed these things unless they wanted the Cupcake Coterie to hear this. They know that at least one of them can raise the dead, after all. Rylan was the one who figured out that at the very least Ava’s half-dragon half-sister wanted them incredibly angry and hyperfocused on their current task. This made them think it would probably be a good move to stop off in Goldendale between Grey’s Inn and Blackcrown, just to check on things and think things out. Also to give Hearthhome the heads-up that they might be in for problems. Which should be all they need, given that while the Crownsguard might be able to give reports on the mercenary contingent in Goldendale, people like Twilly and Miranda, Lira, Jenna, Estan to a point, etc have been quite circumspect over the years so no one would see their brand of shenanigans coming.

They had a brief worry that they could be overheard having that conversation but Darvin didn’t detect any magic of the scrying variety.

They sent Gris, Megan, Lisa, Aloysius King-Of-All-He-Surveys, and Bella the elderly Briard back to Hearthhome via Hazel’s door key. Miranda used the six seconds of Door to produce a good-sized canvas sack full of doughnuts, plus a smaller sack of Hazel’s favourite maple and hazelnut cookies. Barnabus smelled doughnuts and actually used an echo to appear next to them immediately.

They all found places to bed down for the night. Alisaie and Remi were going to sleep down in the cellar with Legolas, just to keep him company. Hazel told them to “have fun” and Alisaie’s remark was, “If Tiamat etc are checking in, they don’t deserve that level of show!” There was a lot of blushing from Remi after that.

A write-up just isn’t the same as the session in all its glory, but shit happens, I suppose. Sometimes my head just conspires against me. At least I could function enough to run the damn thing.

#cupcake coterie #Write-up

[pierog]

i'm so glad goncharov happened when it did, right before prolific public use of AI. that was pure honest gaslighting straight from the heart. real human whimsicality and trickery thru blood sweat and tears. we were a family. and we all gonched, together. you cant replicate that with any machine.

#personal #goncharov #woke up at 3am to write this now im gping back to sleep goodnight.

[glorianas]

a lot of YA and fantasy stuff has always been a little cringe and silly but at least it used to be cringe from the heart instead of designed in a lab to get teens on tiktok to use a certain sentence from it

#it's one thing to be aware of your audience and another to write something with an intended purpose to get chopped up into little bits #1000

[aropride]

#text #copypasting a 21 chapter chat fic i wrote in 2018 into one big document #seeing glimpses of it #most of the time it's like. man. i did not write this #but then i see a phrase i was certain i came up with last year #and im like ah . so ive been making that joke since i was 15 ? #peer reviewed banger #rbsoff

[my-burnt-city]

I finally got one of my dream casting scenarios this weekend, in that there is a lot of simultaneous absence at the moment so they just decided to do without a Eurydice for the show I was at. FINALLY the stars aligned for me to experience the long awaited and much vaunted Lonely Zagreus Show!

And, y'know, I've talked to people about this, I had an idea of what to expect. A lonely man, going through the motions, retracing the steps of earlier happier times spent with his now-absent lady love because he doesn't know what else to do with himself, pure sadness and wistfulness, an absolutely heartrending loop demonstrating the consequences of war on the ordinary people of the city, and I was SO READY to be devastated by it.

Only, it was not a sad loop full of loneliness at all?

I was immediately delighted by the early changes in the loop - some of it was fairly standard, like unpacking the suitcase (side note: why don't all Zags pack the cash box? It feels like a no-brainer when it comes to "items that might be useful when fleeing the city") and opening the bar; some of it was quite fillery, like more bar-cleaning than normal and getting really invested in checking off sake bottles against the clipboard for a while; and some of it was delightfully different, like an unexpectedly chatty interlude where it turned out that tonight it was going to be Zagreus who served the drinks at Polyxena’s birthday party.

Then we settled into the loop as I was expecting it. Even though he had no one to share his special brew with, he still took the time to mix it up, and Persephone still needed a friendly ear and a great many shots of sake to deal with the rough night she was having. Having nothing else to do in the bar once she had left, it was time for Zagreus to take his little bottle of special brew over to Ciacco's and take a drink, sitting at the window table, sharing it with no one. So far, so sad.

And then we all headed over to the arcade.

Now, I'd heard that sometimes a lonely Zagreus might get an audience member to play DDR with him, and I have a) Some Experience of playing DDR and b) precisely zero shame. So after his first pick of dance companion politely refused to get involved, you bet your ASS I seized the moment when he held his hand out to me! He made me dance all the way to the end of the number, then appeared to be going in for a high-five but took me by the hand and gave me a gentle twirl instead, and it was WONDERFUL.

But it did not stop there.

Although lots of smaller details were omitted from the loop, I was now - for all intents and purposes - Eurydice for the entire next section! We held hands as we moved through Troy together, taking in the surroundings of the arcade, hiding from Hecuba, dropping in at the sake bar window, rapping on Askalaphos's window and running away giggling, all the way to the tenement courtyard, up to the Apollo shrine. At this point Zagreus dropped my hand and took a minute to pray to Apollo (guys, stop praying to Apollo). He then looked me in the eye, held out his hands to me again, and once more twirled me under his arm before starting a gentle dance together.

Then the unmistakable sounds of the invasion began. After a beat, and still holding my hand, Zagreus began hammering on the various doors before making his way to the alley between Hades's office and Askalaphos's side entrance. After one last squeeze, he let me go finally, and rushed into the square.

The loop returned to normalcy after this point; colliding with Persephone on his way through the square, moving trinket trays into Divine Deities for safekeeping, hiding (alone) in his 1:1 room, emerging and heading over to Mycenae, encountering Apollo, praying to Apollo, being bullied by Apollo, and then one last surprise for me - Zagreus's second 1:1, the one I have always found to be the most elusive!

(No spoilers, except to say if you ever have the opportunity to hear tales of gods being told in a strong Northern Irish accent, you should ABSOLUTELY TAKE IT.)

After this, we returned to Troy, hiding from half the Greek military en route, stealing a border pass, heading back to the bar, fielding the ramblings of an EXTREMELY drunk and garrulous Hades, and then the loop was pretty much done, Zagreus taking up his purloined pass and without any hesitation heading purposefully towards Mycenae for the finale.

So, not so much a lonely man yearning for his lost love and living every day in sorrow, more a tale of a man who went on a perfectly reasonable date one time during a time of conflict then, after a series of encounters with divine beings, reconsidered his options and chose to leave his mundane life behind.

From context clues, I suspect I may have felt differently had it not been loop 3, but you can only ever experience the show that is happening in front of you in the moment, and I wouldn't have given up this particular experience for the world, an immediate top 5 show for sure. 🥰

#the burnt city #burnt city #punchdrunk #punchdrunk theatre #immersive theatre #immersive #zagreus #ryan o'neill #lonely zagreus #this of course has done absolutely nothing to shake my firmly-held belief that i could 100% play eurydice with minimal need for rehearsal #what a godsdamned SHOW tho! #write-up

[kenobihater]

tragedy enjoyers when a character perpetuates the cycle of violence they themselves were a victim of

#SORRY IT'S COMPELLING LOL #i was gonna write up a meta post abt astarion but im only in act 1 & havent got as firm a grasp on his character as id like to do that yet #one day soon mayhaps... #len speaks #len's memes #astarion #<-tagging my current blorbo du jour bc he's the reason this post exists

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

#almost wrote the champagne line as ''effervescent'' but legit could not write it without saying ''effervescent like a snail'' #ah tumblr... #writeblr #warm up #idk . having trouble writing rn #ps i don't like to talk about it . it is my medical information. but before you ask. yes this is about being on the spectrum #i really don't like when ppl make my writing about how im [whatever ID]. i want it to ring true for the people who it rings true for #i don't want it to be like ''awwwww look at this person!!! she's the EXCEPTION!!! :)" ..... #no.... not really..... #idk something gross happens whenever i admit to certain conditions and i turn into like inspiration p*rnography #like yes they actually let us use keyboards these days #furthermore i just... dont feel comfortable talking about this part of me. i had too bad of a childhood. adhd is one thing... #this one im like. still coming to terms with. which is like. my own journey. #idk. just please be kind. some things are more private than others. this one feels private to me. #i do not know how to help others w/this . and i do not know how to help myself. i will talk about it if im ever ready. idk if that will #actually ever happen #ty in advance i love u im kissing you we are kissing somewhere on the spectrum

[heritageposts]

🇵🇸 From BDS:

More than 300 Palestinian sports teams are calling to ban Israel from the Olympics over its genocide against Palestinians in Gaza. [...] In Gaza, Israel has killed Palestinian Olympic Football coach Hani Al Masdar, destroyed the Palestinian Olympic Committee offices, and turned sports facilities into shameful mass detention and torture centers. We can’t sit back as the IOC allows Israel to use the Olympics to sportswash its genocide in Gaza and its apartheid regime against Palestinians everywhere. Support the call from Palestinian teams. Join the campaign to #BanIsrael from the Olympics and peacefully disrupt the road to the Paris 2024 games. 

Global days of action planned for March 15-17:

Ahead of the IOC executive board meeting in Lausanne Switzerland (March 19-21), take the call from Palestinian teams to your National Olympic Committee, International Sports Federations and Recognized Sports Federations. Organize protests, sit-ins, peaceful disruptions, or awareness raising events on Israeli attacks on Palestinian sports.

For more concrete information on how you can participate in the campaign, see the link above. You should also check in with your local BDS-affiliated organization(s) to see if they have anything planned for these dates (if they don't, consider bringing it up to them)

If you're not familiar with any BDS-affiliated organizations in your country (or state/city), then take a look at BDS's "Join a Campaign'"page.

There's also a petition you can sign.

#free palestine #palestine #gaza #israel #bds #boycott divest sanction #israeli apartheid month #iaw #the 'join a campaign page' seems to be down at the time up writing this but hopefully it should be up again soon

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.

#idk what to tag this #worldbuilding #writing fiction #historical fiction #fantasy #a real-life example: my dad (a pediatrician) was once entrusted with the care of a baby who was born with a rare condition #this was in a place without great hospital/medical access and anyway they were going to fly the baby over #and he specifically asked them to bring the mother and baby #they show up with baby and...the baby's uncle #and he was like. y'all. do you think I asked for the mom to come just for fun??? We don't have formula here. what is the baby going to eat?