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writingwithfolklore · 3 months

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Describing Foods - A Masterlist

As a broke university student, I love reading about food. It’s almost like eating a real meal myself <3.

I get a little angry when characters are eating a meal and I barely get to experience it with them. In that, I mean I don’t just want to know what it is, but what it’s like to eat that food—how it tastes, smells, sounds, and feels. Is a perfect croissant still a perfect croissant without the crack of the exterior, the airiness of the pastry inside, the smell of yeast?

Probably not. When writing about a dish, the smell, texture, technique, taste, and how it looks are all important to painting the experience, so here’s some words to use when describing a meal:

Taste:

Acidic: Sharp tasting. Often used to describe tart or sour foods as well.

Aftertaste: A different taste that remains in the mouth after eating something

Bitter: Tart, sharp, and sometimes harsh flavour.

Bittersweet: Less harsh than bitterness. Tartness + sweetness.

Bland: Has no significant flavor or texture

Briny: Just means salty. Often describes pickled foods.

Citrusy: Bright flavour like… well citrus fruits—oranges, lemons, limes, etc.

Cooling: Mimics that cooling feel—like mint.

Earthy: Reminiscent of soil. Can be used to describe wines, root vegetables, and mushrooms.

Fiery: Another word for spicy.

Fresh: Light and crisp—describes produce or herbs.

Fruity: Sweet and reminiscent of fruit.

Full-bodied: Rich and ‘feels heavy’ in your mouth. Can describe wines or soups.

Herbal: Bright, fresh, sometimes earthy from the presence of herbs

Honeyed: Sweet or candied taste like honey.

Nutty: Taste similar to the flavors of nuts. Often used to describe certain cheeses.

Rich: Full, heavy flavour. Often dishes that contain cream taste rich.

Robust: Rich + Earthy. Used for lots of wines or aged liquor.

Savory: Describes meaty, earthy dishes and soups.

Sharp: Harsh, bitter, or tart taste. Used to describe acidic foods.

Smoky: Reminiscent of the smell of smoke.

Sour: Biting, tangy, tart flavor.

Spicy: Burning taste.

Sweet: Sugary.

Tangy: Tart, biting taste—feels tingly

Tart: Sharp, bitter, or sour flavour. Used to describe acidic foods.

Woody: Earthy, sometimes nutty taste. Describes some coffees or cheeses.

Yeasty: Earthy taste reminiscent of yeast. Describes beer and bread.

Zesty: Fresh, vivid, or invigorating flavour.

Sound/Texture:

Sound has a lot to do with texture, so I've combined them for this section!

Airy: Light, pillowy texture (think inside of croissant)

Brittle: Hard but easy to break

Bubbly: Usually during heating, when bubbles rise to the surface—low sound.

Buttery: Smooth, creamy texture (think certain pasta sauces)

Chewy: Food that needs to be chewed thoroughly. Can be light and bouncy (chewy bread) or heavy (steak) and sticky (candy)

Creamy: A smooth and rich texture, comes from dairy.

Crispy: Light texture with slight crunch.

Crumbly: Food with loose structure that falls apart into crumbs.

Crunchy: Firm, crisp texture with a sharp, loud noise.

Crusty (behave): Food with a hard outer layer and soft interior (many loaves and breads)

Delicate: Light and fine, feels like it can come apart easily.

Doughy: Soft and heavy, usually pale colouring.

Fizzy: Usually liquids—a hissing sound, feels like ‘static’

Flaky: Light, characterized by layers that come apart during eating.

Fluffy: light and airy.

Frothy/Foamy: Airy bubbles, usually in a drink like a latte.

Gamey: Usually refers to meats when they’re very “meaty”

Gooey: Viscous, sometimes sticky texture from moisture in a dense/solid food.

Hearty: Firm, robust texture.

Juicy: Tender and succulent texture from liquid in a solid food (steak)

Molten: Hot, gooey

Oily: Slick, heavy, lingers on the tongue.

Silky: Fine, smooth texture that feels sleek.

Smooth: Texture free of grit, lumps, or edges.

Snap: A quick, sharp, crackling sound when broken.

Squelch: A soft sucking sound when pressure is applied. Somewhat gross.

Sticky: Gluiness in the mouth.

Succulent: Tender and juicy

Tender: Soft and easy to break down

Velvety: Smooth and rich

Smell:

Acrid: Strong, bitter, unpleasant

Comforting: pleasant, probably calls back to a nice memory

Damp: Wet smelling—probably a bit earthy

Delicate: subtle, faint, not overpowering

Earthy: reminiscent of soil

Fetid: Caused by decay—unpleasant

Fishy: reminiscent of fish

Floral/flowery: Reminiscent of flowers

Fragrant: Sweet or pleasing

Fresh: Cool, crisp, refreshing—produce, probably not cooked

Funky: Something’s gone off

Heady: Strong smell, pungent, rich

Musty: Not fresh

Perfumed: Pleasant, reminiscent of something (can be perfumed with citrus, say)

Piquant: stinging, pungent—tickles the nose

Powerful: strong

Rancid: Definitely gone off, decomposing

Ripe: Strong, usually unpleasant smell

Savory: spicy, salty, no elements of sweetness

Sour: has gone off

Spicy: Sharp, tingles the nose

Tangy: Strong and bitter but in a good way

Tart: Sharp

Woody: earthy smell, reminiscent of wood

Sight:

Usually texture gives us a really good picture of what a food looks like, so here’s some non-texture sight additions:

Blistered: Bumpy exterior.

Caramelized: Usually golden brown

Cloudy: Splotched. Almost see through if not for a slight white or grey mist.

Colourful: Bright and vibrant

Glassy: Resembling glass

Glossy: Smooth, shiny

Marbled: Two colours intertwined

Opaque: Not transparent. Can’t see through.

Ripe: Colourful (can be to a fault). Nearing the end of its edible state.

Scaly: Covered in scales, fish.

Shiny: Appears wet or glossy

Sparkling: Glimmers under the light

Stuffed: An ingredient placed inside a larger part with no additional space.

Translucent: Allows light through

Vibrant: Striking, bright

Food Prep:

How the food is prepared gives it these other attributes. If your character is familiar with cooking (or is the cook themselves!) they may describe food this way.

Baked: Cooked in an oven. Results in browned or crispy outer layer.

Blackened: When food is dipped in butter and coated with spices then cooked in a hot pan—spices darken, making it appear ‘blackened’

Blanched: Food scalded in boiling water and moved to cold water so it stops cooking. Texture comes out soft.

Braised: Food that is briefly fried in fat and then stewed in a pot. Results in seared, crispy exterior with a tender interior.

Breaded: Coated with breadcrumbs/batter then baked or fried so it turns crispy

Broiled: Food cooked with intense radiant heat in an oven or on the grill. Results in a darkened appearance and crispy texture.

Caramelized: Food slow-cooked until it’s browned, nutty, and has a bit of sweetness.

Charred: Grilled, roasted, or broiled and gains a blackened exterior and smoky flavor.

Fermented: Food that’s sat with bacteria, yeast, or another microorganism and has produced acids, alcohols, or gases. Results in a biting, pungent flavor. (Kimchi is fermented)

Fried: Food cooked by submerging in hot oil. Creates crispy, crunchy texture and golden colour.

Glazed: Food with a coating brushed onto its surface. Appears glossy with a thin, flavorful, and crisp outer layer.

Infused: Food steeped in liquid with another ingredient so it carries the essence of that ingredient. Used with herbs usually.

Marinated: Usually meat soaked in liquid containing flavourful herbs, spices, vinegar, or oil.

Poached: Food cooked in near boiling water. Results in tender, moist texture.

Roasted: Food cooked with dry heat in an oven or over the fire. Results in browned exterior and crisp coating.

Sautéed: Food cooked quickly in small amount of fat.

Seared: Food cooked in small amount of fat until caramelized. Finished by roasting or grilling. Results in crisp exterior and tender interior.

Smoked: Food exposed to smoke from smoldering wood for a long time. Results in that distinctive smoky flavor.

Whipped: Food beaten to incorporate air. Light and fluffy.

What did I miss?

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novlr · 1 year

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How to write romantic love

Writing romantic love is simultaneously one of the most joyful things you can do as a writer, and one of the most difficult. There’s a lot of emotion to cover - from the highs of a new relationship, to the struggles of a relationship on the rocks.

Like all of us, your characters will display love differently. Are they open and affectionate? Shy and nervous? Loud and blunt? To help you along the way, here’s some examples of descriptions you can use to show (not tell) your readers that your characters are in love. Movement

Inching towards each other to touch

Shyly tucking stray hair behind the ear

Unconsciously parting or licking lips

Embracing with full bodies touching

Nervously shuffling feet

Running and reaching with open arms

Fiddling with hair or clothing

Crossing or uncrossing legs

Leaning forward to show attentiveness

A bounce in the step

Glancing flirtily over the shoulder

Facial expressions

Flirtatious winking

Smiling to themselves at nothing

Glancing up through lowered lashes

Unblinking eye contact

Grinning or beaming uncontrollably

A look of yearning

Lips slightly parted with desire

Dilated pupils

Glowing cheeks or flushed skin

Faraway, daydreaming look

Slight, secretive smile

Sounds

Deep sighs

Unconscious swallowing

Nervous coughing or throat clearing

Light chuckle with a silly grin

Grunts of appreciation or praise

An inner, audibly racing pulse

Thumping heart

Quick, short breaths

Low, whispered voices

Listening to love songs

Joyfully humming

Feelings and sensations

Nervous tingling

Butterflies in the stomach

Hot and flushed face

Hyper-sensitive skin

Acute awareness of personal proximity

Weak knees or legs turning to jelly

Shaky hands

Loss of speech or getting tongue-tied

Daydreaming and absentmindedness

Seeing the beauty in the world

Pulse racing

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heywriters · 2 months

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I have a writing issue I am trying to get out of, but I also don't know how to get out of it. I have a tendency to have characters look at one another, gaze, glance, peer, stare, get lost in, etc - so much action with the eyes. I want to be able to describe communication and feelings between characters outside of *the eyes* (that isn't touching), do you have any tips/exercises that can help with this?

So I waited a super long time to reply to this, and you may already have figured out a solution on your own or found an answer elsewhere. I apologize for saying I would answer and then lo and behold I did not. I did however find a piece on the site Happy Writer that addresses this exact issue! Read their advice, it's meticulous and practical.

How to Make Your Characters Stop Looking At Everything

Personally, when I've encountered this crutch in my own writing, I switch my focus to some other sense. Whether its actions the character is doing with their hands, sounds they are distracted by, a interesting patterns in the wallpaper, whatever. As long as it isn't eyes every time it makes those moments fresh again.

I've noticed in most day-to-day conversations I don't make much eye contact with familiar people. We can speak without looking at each other, especially when occupied by other activities such as chores or driving. With strangers of course there is more nodding and polite eye contact, but with friends and coworkers they understand if I'm not looking at them I can still pay attention to their speech.

Likewise, if you save the heavy eye contact for specific scenes—like romantic, hostile, or suspenseful encounters—it will be more impactful! It will be exciting to write "they stared into each other's eyes" again! I'm teasing, but also I've been there and I understand all too well.

---

+ If you enjoy my blog and appreciate my advice, consider visiting my ko-fi and Buy Me A Coffee!🤗

+ Follow me on AO3 - Pinterest - Unsplash for my fanfiction and photo inspiration.

#writing #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writeblr #creative writing #descriptive writing #edit revise redraft #writer problems #answer

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denrath · 1 year

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my secondary job is teaching eng lit to grades 5-12. something I've taught my students, that I think could fit here, is the 3X3 method. I have made this up, and it works really well as a basic skill for describing the scene/characters/or other.

3 things you obviously see

this is your direct approach to the description! ie. tall grass; snowy mountain peaks; heavy mist touching the tips of the verdant forest; a thick scar above their lip; reddish rugged beard -- think of what you literally see right in front of you

3 things you can assume based on evidence

this is your indirect approach to describing! ie. my pants stopped fitting in the spring; no matter what, he couldn't open a book without being put to sleep; the sickeningly sweet smell of fallen leaves made her nose crinkle in disgust -- think of what you want your reader to deduce from your descriptions

3 things you want to add (realistically)

now, what are the things that fit in the scene that you want to add that might be a little less obvious ie. the characters don't see a figure watching them; the scene changes suddenly for the worse; what are the characters thinking?; how do they assess their surroundings?

Usually, I give my students a picture, and I ask them to use the 3X3 method. Something like this:

3 things I obviously see: a man in a boat, a body of water, the setting sun

3 things I can assume based on evidence: he's spent all day fishing (the rod in the back), far away from land (an island in the back), could rain soon (clouds creeping in)

3 things I want to make up (realistically*): the man is worried he won't make it back in time, there's a creature watching him, the man is exhausted

And the descriptive paragraph could go something like this:

Time passed the lake mindlessly, and before long, the orange haze of the setting sun painted the sky, and everything it touched, a pumpkin hue. The small waves rocked the man's boat, which pulled him from his slumber. It was then he realized how far he had drifted out from the safety of his home. He frantically reeled his bait in; the whizzing sound of the wire burned against the guides as he set the hook safely at the highest notch. He pulled the oar from his feet and shoved it into the lake, splashing the water up against him. He paid no mind, steering for home. The warm summer sun made him so tired, but how could he fall asleep knowing the stories of these waters? He had been debating their legitimacy when something bumped the belly of his canoe. He stilled, waiting and listening to any movement in the water. Then suddenly, he was submerged in the dark depths of the water; no cry could be heard as the liquid muffled his screams.

This is just how I efficiently/effectively write descriptions! Try it out and lemme know <3

*When I say realistically, I mean to say not adding something unrealistic like "rubber duckies in the sky" -- this might also just be something for young students ahaha!

Enjoy~

#writeblr #descriptive writing #descriptive exercise #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #how to write #how to write description #darthenra 3x3 method

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sudharsanuniverse · 5 months

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Top 20 beyond basic tips to improve your descriptive writing 💭✒️

1. Involve your senses in descriptive writing, appealing to sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell.

2. Integrate dialogues effectively to bring characters and situations to life.

3. Use metaphors and similes to make your portrayals more vivid and imaginative.

4. Experiment with unique perspectives or points of view to add a fresh angle to your narrative.

5. Create a strong sense of atmosphere and mood to enhance the overall tone of your piece.

6. Include suspense or surprise elements to enchant your readers.

7. Use symbolism to add layers of meaning to your writing.

8. Develop a consistent and original voice that reflects your personal style.

9. Play with pacing to control the rhythm and flow of your narrative.

10. Show empathy in your character portrayals to make them more relatable.

11. Build pressure gradually and release it strategically for a compelling storyline.

12. Blend humor to inje1ct a touch of personality into your writing.

13. Employ the "show, don't tell" method by allowing actions to reveal emotions and motivations.

14. Break away from linear storytelling with non-linear narrative structures.

15. Try different genres to broaden your writing skills.

16. Frame memorable and thought-provoking endings that leave a lasting impression.

17. Invent a strong opening and closing sentence for each paragraph to enrich structure.

18. Capture unique and conceivable dialogue patterns to make characters distinct.

19. Develop a balance between description and action to maintain a dynamic pace.

20. Use literary devices like foreshadowing or symbolism to add depth to your writing.

Was it helpful?

Like and reblog the tips you loved.

For more writing topics, follow me at @sudharsanuniverse

#writingforlife #creative writing #writing community #writinglove #writerslift #writing #writers and poets #writers of tumblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #descriptive writing #short story #storytelling #writing techniques #narrative #narrative techniques #creative inspiration

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eyebawll · 8 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍-𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 [𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑] [𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏]

First Supernatural fic! A little short (in my standards), may conjure up another part if it goes well. This takes place just shortly after Sam gets his soul back and he's still coping.

SUMMARY: Y/N is a well renowned hunter who keeps to herself. After losing her sister (among many other family members) during a hunt to a devastating monster, she locks herself in for good with nothing but rage pumping through her veins.

It's rumored she holds a weapon that, besides the colt, can kill anything. It's become a big deal in the past, many hunters trying to take it for themselves, only to be cursed, injured or even dead in the process. That was until it was revealed who had given it to Y/N.

What will happen when she runs into the Winchester brothers during a hunt for the very thing that has destroyed her family?

Written in third person, female!reader

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ

Very novel-esque writing. i'm sorry. i got carried away

ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: 4,390

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

The forest lay draped in an eternal shroud of darkness, the silvery glow of the moon casting faint, ghostly beams that struggled to penetrate the dense web of ancient trees. The atmosphere was thick with an otherworldly chill, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. Tall, gnarled trunks rose like skeletal sentinels, their twisted branches clawing at the heavens in silent supplication.

Eerie whispers, like faint echoes from another realm, seemed to drift on the breeze. Soft susurrations carried the promise of secrets, secrets that the forest had guarded for centuries. These spectral utterances mingled with the rustle of leaves and the faint creaking of branches, creating a symphony of sound that was both mesmerizing and unsettling.

Amid this haunting tapestry of shadows and whispers, a lone figure moved with a desperate urgency. A slim young woman, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as her heart pounded in sync with the frantic rhythm of her footsteps. The ground beneath her seemed to tremble with her every stride, her bare feet sore from each scratch and scrape from twigs, rocks and leaves underneath, each footfall a desperate plea for escape.

The forest's inhabitants—creatures of the night and unseen beings—watched from their hidden sanctuaries, their eyes glinting with a luminescence. Yet, none could compare to the ominous presence that stalked the innocent woman.

In the ethereal twilight, illusions took shape like phantoms conjured from the darkest recesses of the mind. The voices of fellow hunters, once allies and friends, one even her own older sister, twisted and distorted into a chorus of accusation and betrayal. Their spectral forms advanced with a relentless determination, a parade of torment born from her own insecurities.

"Disgusting!"

"You're not strong enough! You don't belong with us!"

"You never did!"

"YOU ONLY HOLD US BACK!"

Countless insults and howls, hurls of venom and anger were thrown at the woman. As she sprinted through the labyrinthine woods, the cacophony of voices swirled around her like a tempest. The shadows themselves seemed to coil and writhe, mirroring her inner turmoil. But amidst the maelstrom of chaos, one face emerged from the torment—Y/N.

Y/N's expression was a mosaic of sorrow and anger, anger for all of this to be happening, anger for her sister as this creature manipulates her. Her eyes twin beacons of hope in the encroaching darkness. "Emily, Emily!" The voice behind her cried, far different from the others, "It's not real! Fight it!"

Emily turned around to face the direction of her sister's yells, her body jerking slightly with her movement as she catches a glimpse of Y/N, running with her arm reaching out to her. Quickly, she turned back, hopping over a large boulder she would have tripped over. Panic pumped through her veins, and her heart felt as if it was going to burst out of her chest.

Amid the twisted labyrinth of trees, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she closed in on her sister. Her footsteps were swift and quick as if she drifted through the air, each one a prayer to reach Emily in time, to pull her back from the precipice of the consuming darkness. Emily's breath came in ragged gasps, her panicked sobs echoing like haunting melodies of a woman in white through the shadows drenching the forest.

"Emily! Emily, it's me!" Y/N yelled once more, a lifeline of vague comfort in the midst of it all. Her arms stretched out, fingers yearning to grasp onto the fleeting fabrics of the younger woman's clothing. Emily's movements were wild and uncontrolled, her form swaying as if caught in a cruel dance with harsh winds.

Their eyes locked, and Y/N's heart shattered at the sight of the expression on the face of her other half. "Emily, please, look at me. You're not alone. I'm right here." Her voice trembled with a potent blend of fear and nausea, a plea for Emily to recognize how real she is and how fake everything else is.

Emily's cries were a symphony of agony, tears streaking her dirt-stained cheeks. "Y/N, make it stop! Make it stop, please!" Her voice cracked. She reached out with trembling hands, fingers brushing Y/N's arm as if seeking refuge from the torment that consumed her.

Y/N's heart bled as she closed the final distance, her arms enfolding Emily in an embrace. She could feel the violent tremors that wracked her sister's body, the very essence of her being gripped by a bitter chill. "I'm here, Emily. I won't let it take you," Y/N whispered fiercely, her lips brushing against Emily's sweat-dampened forehead.

Yet, even as Y/N held onto her sister, a sinister current coursed through the air. The shadows seemed to thicken, a malevolent presence looming ever closer. Emily's cries escalated into agonized screams, her body convulsing with the force of the darkness that sought to claim her. Y/N's heart raced, every fiber of her being consumed by a profound and paralyzing fear.

As Emily's eyes met Y/N's, a chilling realization dawned – the vibrant blue that had once sparkled with life was fading, eclipsed by an encroaching grayness that spread like tendrils of frost. Y/N's grip tightened, her own voice trembling with a mix of desperation and sorrow. "Emily, fight it! Hold on!"

Emily's voice wavered, words barely audible through the guttural moans that tore from her lips. "It's so cold, Y/N. Everything's so cold...so dark. Make it stop, please..." Her voice trailed off into a pained whimper, the shadows swallowing her words and leaving only the haunting echo of her suffering.

Y/N's fingers brushed against Emily's clammy skin, the chill of the shadows seeping into her very soul. With every ounce of strength she possessed, Y/N fought against the consuming void, her voice a soothing murmur. "I won't let it take you, dammit!" Anger boiled inside, "Get the hell off of her!"

Just as the darkness threatened to claim Emily completely, a distant rustling broke through the sound of struggle. Y/N's heart leaped as figures emerged from the shadows—the real, other hunters, their expressions etched with concern. They had followed Y/N's trail of yells and cries, arriving in the nick of time.

Y/N's voice trembled, a mild wave of relief as she sees the others. "Help her! We need to help her!" The hunters rushed forward, their hands reaching out to lend their strength. Together, they formed a shield against the darkness, a defiant stance against the malevolent force that sought to tear Emily from their grasp.

Emily's cries and convulsions intensified, her body wracked by spasms as the battle raged within her. Her hair was etched in a misty black, while her clothing was oozing with the same. Y/N's heart ached as she held onto her sister, her voice a fervent plea as she looked to the heavens. "Please, don't let her go! Not like this!" She sobbed. She held Emily tight, rocking her back and forth. She had lost so much, most of her family was already dead or turned. She'd barely consider other hunters as anything more than allies. She was terrified of becoming too attached.

And this is exactly why.

Silence. No movement, no cries, she didn't even breathe. Emily's petite figure went cold and limp in her big sister's arms, a shriek tearing through the cold air.

"EMILY!"

The veil of unconsciousness lifted, tearing Y/N from the depths of sleep into a realm of disorienting wakefulness. In an instant, her senses snapped to attention, an electric surge of panic and anxiety coursing through her veins. With a sudden jolt, she sat up, her chest heaving as if she had finished running a marathon. The room around her was shrouded in sunlight pooling in through the old vintage curtains.

A strangled cry forced itself through her lips, a raw and primal sound that echoed through the empty walls. It was a cry born of a terror she couldn't quite grasp. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the blankets below her hands, huffing.

Heartbeats drummed in her ears, a relentless rhythm that matched the frantic pace of her thoughts. The sweat-soaked tendrils of her hair clung to her forehead. She drew in ragged breaths, each inhalation a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between the dream and the waking world.

Tears blurred her vision, the remnants of her subconscious torment mingling with the harsh reality of her surroundings. It took precious moments for the room to come into focus, the familiar contours of furniture and shadows coalescing into a semblance of order. Yet, even as the nightmare's grip loosened, a residual ache settled deep within her chest.

"Emily..." The word escaped her lips in a choked whisper, a tremor of grief lacing her voice. The name hung heavy in the air, a fragile thread connecting the terror of her dreams to the ache of her waking heart. She clung to the sheets as if they were a lifeline, her fingers curling into fists against the overwhelming flood of emotions.

With a final sigh, Y/N hunched over with her head down. Her eyes shut, a tear falling into her lap, the drop being absorbed by the thick comforter snug tight over her legs.

Mornings were never easy for Y/N. Each new day dawned as a reminder of the relentless challenges she faced, a testament to her resilience in the face of an unforgiving life. Even on her days off, a lingering unease nestled itself within the corners of her mind, stuck unto the wonders of impending danger. The cocoon of security she had woven around herself provided a shield, but it could never quite dispel the remaining possibility of danger.

She went about her normal daily routine. Eat, bathe, study—it was a day-today cycle she'd repeat without fail. The steady rhythm of these activities became her anchor, a lifeline that kept her tethered to a semblance of normalcy she lacked during her teen hood.

The simple act of nourishing herself felt like a small victory. The warm water during her shower offered a brief reprieve, a blanket of warmth throughout her entire figure. It was possibly the only place she could ever truly let her guard down—ignoring the many knives and handguns tucked away in every corner and crevice. And when she immersed herself in her studies of the unknown, her mind was at ease, eager to learn more like an intelligent child at their elite school.

She'd decided to take a bath that morning. The sound of the faucet turning on was a familiar symphony, the rushing of water a comforting melody that eased her eardrums. The room soon filled with the gentle hiss and gurgle of water as it flowed, a lullaby of sorts to her senses.

As steam gradually wafted through the air, tendrils of warmth caressed her skin. With each passing second, the room transformed into a retreat, the steam swirling like ethereal wisps that danced in the air. She undressed with a easeful grace, each garment slipping off her body and pooling onto the floor in a crumpled heap. The clothing, once a shield against the world's harshness, now lay forgotten as Y/N stepped out of its confines. The act of disrobing was more than a physical shedding; it was a ritualistic release, a shedding of layers that went beyond mere fabric. Each piece of clothing fell away, like a separate piece of heavy armor.

With a swift step, Y/N stepped into the tub. The warm water greeted her like an old friend, pooling around her calves. A sigh escaped her lips as she settled into the depths, the water rising to envelop her in its comforting embrace. Her mind was clouded with bliss, the weight of the stress not yet touching her core.

The water cocooned her body, its warmth seeping into her very bones as she closed her eyes. With each breath, she felt herself surrendering to the serenity of the moment, the rhythmic ebb and flow of her surroundings lulling her into a state of an addictive detachment.

The world beyond the bathroom door seemed distant, the sounds of the day muffled by the sanctuary she had created.

With ease, her fingers trailed along her arms, the soft glide of her touch a soothing ritual that whispered of self-care. The steam-kissed air enveloped her, carrying with it the subtle scent of her favorite from the bath salts that had dissolved into the water. As she reclined against the porcelain expanse, her muscles gradually surrendered their tension, each fiber yielding to the tender persuasion of the tranquil waters.

Slowly, Y/N's legs found themselves lifting, her knees bending as she settled into the contours of the tub. Her feet, once grounded on the porcelain floor, now found their resting place on the opposite end. The gentle swish of water accompanied her movements, a loving chorus that serenaded her senses.

Closing her eyes once more, Y/N let her head rest against the cool edge of the tub, a small sigh escaping her lips. Her mind now ebbed and flowed like the gentle ripples that lapped against her skin. The warmth enveloped her limbs, cradling each contour similar to her mother cradling her very essence in her tender hold from when she was a young child.

Her fingers dipped below the surface, the gentle tug of water playing a delicate dance with her touch. She traced the outlines of her own hands, the pathways of her palms etching stories of resilience and strength from each hunt, each death and heartbreak. The subtle currents tugged at her fingers, a gentle reminder that life was ever-present, a force that moved in rhythm with her own heartbeat.

Minutes slipped through her grasp like grains of sand, a fluid passage of time that seemed to stretch and contract with each breath. Y/N allowed herself to linger in the embrace of the bath, the world beyond the bathroom door fading into the periphery as the symphony of her senses took center stage.

As the soft glow of midday sunlight danced through the window, casting a warm embrace upon the room, Y/N's attention gravitated towards the sprawling tome that lay open before her. However, the once discerning gaze of the seasoned hunter seemed to drift, lost in the labyrinth of printed words that now merged into an abstract mosaic, their essence slipping through the sieve of her distracted thoughts. Within the confines of her mind, conflicting currents clashed - the steadfast determination that usually defined her, and an unsettling undercurrent of restless uncertainty.

Amidst the encroaching mental haze, a sharp ring pierced the air, jolting Y/N from her reverie. Swift and purposeful, she retrieved the phone and pressed it to her ear, her voice shaking from the startling event. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end carried an air of authority, a trusted hunter's tone that brooked no pleasantries. "Y/N," the voice began, a solemn cadence that bore the weight of urgency. "Got a case for you."

Y/N's eyes remained fixed on the open book, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the pages, a rhythmic dance of distraction. "Mirian," she acknowledged, a blend of reverence and intrigue imbued in her tone. The name held weight, signifying that when the hunter spoke, it was time to heed.

"There've been incidents," the hunter continued, unfolding a tale of unsettling attacks that painted a somber tableau. "Looks like the Chimera's up to its old tricks again."

A shiver coursed through Y/N's spine, a subtle reaction that betrayed the gravity of the name. Memories of past encounters surged forth like specters, a haunting tapestry of battles fought and won against this formidable adversary. Especially Emily's death. Mirian’s words wove a narrative of danger and enigma, a reminder of the stakes at play.

Her responses remained poised, a veneer of calm that masked the storm beneath. "I understand," she murmured, her gaze breaking free from the book to meet the world outside the window. "And where did everything taken place?"

Location after location was recited by the older hunter, each name etching a somber mark on the canvas of Y/N's consciousness. She absorbed the information with a hunter's precision, each detail a clue to decipher, a thread to weave into a strategy. As the conversation progressed, an immediate plan unfurled in her mind, a mosaic of tactics and resolve that began to map out her forthcoming endeavors.

"Understood," Y/N finally affirmed, her voice a testament to her unwavering commitment to the task ahead. "I'll take it from here."

The unknown hunter's approval resonated through the line, a nod of satisfaction that lingered in the air. "Good. Other hunters are staying away from this one. Leaving it to you. Be vigilant, Y/N. Take it down for good."

The call ended, leaving Y/N alone with her ruminations once more. Her gaze returned to the open book, yet now, the printed words seemed to regain their clarity, each letter a beacon guiding her purpose. With a heavy sigh, Y/N shut the book, standing herself tall. Her gaze settled on the ancient leather-bound tome, its pages brimming with secrets of old, a knowledge bank she had accumulated over the years. With a decisive nod, she turned away, her steps carrying her towards the intricately carved wooden desk where her arsenal awaited.

Quickly, Y/N began to gather her essentials. She retrieved a leather-bound notebook, its pages filled with meticulous notes and diagrams of past encounters. A sense of reverence accompanied each turn of the pages, a reminder of the blood swear and tears put into every hunt. Beside it lay an assortment of vials, each containing concoctions brewed from rare ingredients, tailored to counteract the unique attributes of queer entities.

Her attention shifted to the polished surface of the desk, where an array of weapons gleamed in the subdued light. Her fingers brushed against the hilt of a knife, its blade etched with protective runes to enhance its efficacy. A revolver lay nearby, silver bullets meticulously loaded.

Yet, the centerpiece of her arsenal rested against the desk's corner—a sickle of exquisite craftsmanship. The black handle was adorned with intricate patterns and symbols, a labyrinth of gold engravings that seemed to dance in the faint light. The handle fit perfectly in her hand, a natural extension of her unequaled wrath. The blade itself gleamed wickedly, a crescent moon of lethal sharpness. Its edge bore the scars of countless battles, slick and sharp—a gift from Death himself.

As Y/N lifted the sickle, a surge of familiarity coursed through her veins. This weapon was an extension of her identity, a manifestation of the strength and purpose that had driven her. Its weight was comforting, grounding her in the face of vengeful intent.

With her arsenal gathered, Y/N slung the duffel over her shoulder and made her way to the doorway. As her fingers brushed against the cool metal of the doorknob, her gaze flickered to a small weapon hanging by the frame. It was a talismanic blade, a last resort concealed within easy reach. The hilt bore sigils of protection, a final safeguard against unexpected threats.

The weight of the sickle at her side was a reminder of her internal hatred, a beacon of hope to finally destroy this Chimera once and for all. Y/N stepped out, shutting the door behind her.

Bobby's house exuded a sense of warmth and home, its well-worn interior serving as a refuge for the trio of hunters seeking respite from the world outside. The worn leather armchairs bore the marks of countless conversations and the shelves lining the walls were crammed with dusty books, relics of knowledge accumulated over decades of hunting. The air was tinged with the aroma of brewing coffee, a constant companion in the dimly lit haven.

Bobby sat hunched over his desk, his calloused fingers deftly dialing a number on his phone. The room seemed to hold its breath as the line connected, and he brought the receiver to his ear. His gruff voice echoed through the room as he spoke, his words carrying the weight of urgency.

"Hey there, it's Bobby Singer. Listen, I've been hearin' about some strange happenings over in Pinehaven. Yeah, it's that little town off County Road 9. There've been a series of deaths – odd ones. People droppin' dead with no explanation, like they just gave up the ghost." Bobby's brows furrowed as he listened to the voice on the other end, his expression growing increasingly grim.

Sam and Dean Winchester exchanged wary glances, their senses heightened by the heavy atmosphere that had settled over the room. They leaned in, their attention fully captivated by Bobby's conversation.

"You don't say... Well, that sounds like a real mess. Yeah, it's been goin' on for a few weeks now. The victims – they're different ages, different backgrounds. Ain't nothin' connectin' 'em on the surface. And here's the kicker – their bodies are all found with these... bizarre markings carved into 'em. Like some sort of symbol."

Bobby's eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and intrigue as he listened to the voice on the other end. "Yeah, I know it sounds like some pagan ritual, but that's where it gets even weirder. There's nothin' in any lore I've come across that matches these symbols. It's like some new kind of nasty is in town."

Sam leaned forward, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "So, what's our next move, Bobby?"

Bobby glanced at Sam and Dean before turning his attention back to the call, hanging up. "Look, I've tried gettin' some hunters interested in checkin' it out, but they're all keepin' their distance. Say it's too risky. Hell, even Garth – and you know he's usually up for a wild goose chase – turned it down."

Dean chuckled under his breath. "Well, Garth's got a point. But if it's got you scratching your head, Bobby, it's definitely worth a look."

Bobby nodded in agreement, a determined glint in his eyes. "Damn right, it is. I've got a bad feelin' about this one. We'll head over to Pinehaven, check out the crime scenes, see if we can find any leads."

Sam and Dean exchanged a nod. "You think it could be witches?" Sam asks.

Bobby scratched his scruffy beard in thought, his expression contemplative. "Could be, given the nature of the attacks and the symbols that've been showin' up around town. But we won't jump to conclusions just yet. Gotta gather more information before we start pointin' fingers."

Dean's lips curled into a half-smile, "Well, you know us, Bobby. We're always up for a good ol' witch hunt."

Bobby chuckled, a gruff sound that held a warm combination of amusement and fondness. "Just make sure you don't stir up trouble before you've got solid evidence. Last thing we need is a town full of pitchfork-wielding locals."

Sam nodded in agreement. "We'll be careful, Bobby. Promise."

With a satisfied nod, Bobby clasped his hands together. "Good. Now, gather your gear and hit the road. I'll keep diggin' on my end, see if I can find any lore or references that might give us a clue."

Dean couldn't help but interject with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Bobby, remember that time in Oklahoma when you tried to use a hex bag and ended up with green hair?"

Bobby's eyes narrowed as he shot a pointed glare at Dean. "Oh, don't you start with that again, boy. You two idjits were laughin' your heads off, like a couple of hyenas."

Sam smirked, unable to suppress a chuckle. "Come on, Bobby, you gotta admit, you rocked that look."

Bobby let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. "Just make sure you boys pack some extra salt. We're dealin' with somethin' that's givin' hunters the heebie-jeebies."

With a shared glance, the two stood, their resolve strengthened. As they gathered their gear and headed for the door, Bobby's voice carried after them, a stern warning. "And no more hex bags, you hear me?"

The echoes of their laughter lingered in the air as they shut the door. As Sam and Dean made their way toward the sleek black Impala, the gravel crunching under their boots, Sam couldn't help but break the silence.

"You really think this case is the real deal? Witches? Haven't seen any Pagan witches lately."

Dean slid his hands into his jacket pockets, casting a sidelong glance at his brother. "Bobby seems to think so. And you know how he is with research."

Sam nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowing. "Yeah, you're right."

Dean's expression turned more serious as he locked eyes with his brother. "Just gotta stay sharp, Sammy. If this thing's as nasty as Bobby says, we need to be on our A-game."

Sam's gaze held a mixture of determination and concern. "I know, Dean. But something just doesn't feel right. If a bunch of hunters won't go near that thing, it can't be a witch. They woulda already tackled it by now."

Dean's jaw tightened, his gaze distant for a moment before he met Sam's eyes again. "Yeah, I noticed that too. It's like everyone's walking on eggshells. We'll keep digging. But first, let's focus on finding out what's behind all these deaths and disappearances."

As they slid into the Impala's front seats, the engine roared to life with a familiar rumble. The brothers shared a determined glance before Dean put the car in gear.

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mewsingsbynataliek · 6 months

Text

NSR Halloween DLC ideas, just in time for Spooky Night!

The soundtrack for the Halloween DLC would feature instruments associated with the holiday being incorporated into the songs, such as pipe organ and theremin.

The Bosses

DJ Subatomic Supernova

DJSS is a scarecrow, wearing a straw hat, flannel shirt, and denim overalls (cut-off, of course!).

For the battlefield, the background of the Planetarium is a deep orange. The planets he uses to attack are replaced with pumpkins, and the asteroids are replaced by a swarm of crows.

Sayu

Sayu is a cute ghost girl. (I felt it would be fitting since she’s a floaty character.) She's slightly translucent and sports a ghostly wisp-like tail rather than her regular mermaid tail. Her colour palette features off-whites and faded pastels, making her look more etherial.

Sayu wears a tattered white Victorian/Lolita-style dress, lacy cuffs around her wrists and a little bow on her head.

For Phase 2, her dress becomes poofier and more elaborate as small ribbons resembling tentacles appear around her waist. Her trident is completely white.

Phase 3 has her go full-on ghost bride. Her dress has a huge multi-tiered skirt, her hair is adorned with a long veil, and her tentacle ribbons have grown to full length. Her deep-sea mode has her face turn glowing green with solid black eyes, making her resemble a spookfish, while her “tentacles” feature flickering lights similar to a bioluminescent jellyfish.

Her final form is basically your stereotypical bedsheet ghost shape with her legs sticking out the bottom.

Sayu’s team are dressed in dark wizard-like robes, and each of them are wearing masks like the ones worn by Lock, Shock, and Barrel from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

For the battlefield, the “landscape” is dotted with jack-o-lanterns, tombstones, and dead trees. The background is changed to a seafoam green color, with wispy little ghosts flying about.

Yinu and Mother

Yinu is dressed as a cute little witch. Her hair is in pigtails similar to her Christmas skin, and her witch hat is adorned with fall leaves and little jack-o-lanterns.

Mother, meanwhile, is a spooky Halloween tree with spiders. Her dress is a dark wood colour with translucent, ragged-edged sleeves, and she wears a thorny hairband and spiderweb earrings.

The ends of her “hair” have been dyed the same colour as her dress, and she wears both black lipstick and black nail polish.

When she grows bigger, her branches begin to sprout large thorns, which end up making her cage form look more like a spiderweb. (There are even little fake spiders sitting on top of it!)

For the battlefield, the stage is decorated to evoke a bountiful harvest, with pumpkins, hay bales, bundles of wheat, stalks of corn, apple trees, cornucopias, and garlands of leaves.

Both the gate and the giant piano hammers are adorned with thorny branches and autumn leaves.

1010

1010 are pirate ghosts. (As a fun gag, Blue could wear two eyepatches instead of his sunglasses!)

Meanwhile, Neon J is their ghostly captain, complete with a captain’s hat, a sword at his belt, a fake parrot on his shoulder, and – once again – a fake beard attached to his screen head.

For the battlefield, the flying limousine is decked out to look like a pirate ship, with a mast, a crow’s nest, and a tattered sail.

(I felt 1010 as pirates would be fitting since they're a navy-themed boyband and Neon J was a captain in the navy.)

Eve

Eve is dressed as Medusa.

Her dark green dress has a scaly pattern, and she accessories with a lot of gold, including spiralling gold sandals and a golden diadem crown.

Her hair has been dyed, shaped, and styled to look like several little writhing serpents.

Her backpiece is composed of even more snakes in gold and teal which wrap around her upper torso and spread out behind her like a peacock’s tail.

Eve’s pupils even become snake-like starting at Phase 2!

For the battlefield, Eve’s gallery has been transformed into an Ancient Greek temple, but with a postmodern/vapourwave twist. Stylized Greco-Roman columns with snakes wrapped around them line the walls, and an ancient looking gold chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The left side would be eggplant purple while the right side would be cerulean blue.

If the player gets hit by the eye lasers from Eve’s giant statue, they’ll actually turn to stone and be frozen in place for a short time.

For Phase 2, on Mayday’s side, the snakes wrapped around the columns have grown larger and are now looming over Mayday, their faces twisted into angry snarls (representing Eve’s derisiveness and hostility towards May).

Meanwhile, Zuke’s side features floating fragments of ruined columns (representing how lost and incomplete Eve felt after Zuke left her).

Phase 3 is where it really starts to get trippy. Both rooms feature ruined columns and floating shards, along with giant brightly colored snakes slithering all over the background.

The shards in Zuke’s side reflect images of faces screaming in anguish, while the shards on Mayday’s side have limbs protruding from them- one shard has three legs protruding from them in reference to a trinacia. (Look up what a trinacia is to understand the reference!)

Tatiana

Tatiana is a vampire.

She wears black and red robes with bat wing-edged sleeves and a wide collar. Her earrings are coffin shaped, and she has small, pointed fangs that can be seen when she opens her mouth.

At the beginning of her battle, she starts throwing flaming bats.

For the battlefield, Tatiana's office/battle arena is made to feel like a vampire’s castle tower.

The whole room is lit with a deep red glow, and the tall windows that feature the NSR murals are topped with pointed arches, giving them a Gothic look.

You can even see some glass bottles filled with (ahem) red liquid on Tatiana’s desk.

Meanwhile, the Goolings' stage outside is decorated with jack-o-lanterns and hanging skeletons.

DK West

DK West is dressed as Frankenstein FrankenWest!

His look consists of neck bolts, stitch markings, and a dark ragged recolour of his original outfit.

His bull shadow puppet has matching neck bolts, which even emit shadowy electricity when it appears during the battle.

Bunk Bed Junction

Mayday

Mayday is dressed as an imp, wearing a bright red dress with black sleeves and waistcoat, black wings, red horns, and a red tail.

Her guitar is deep purple and splattered with glowing orange paint. It emits a wolf howl when she powers it up for the Showstopper.

Zuke

Zuke is a werewolf. Ragged clothes with fake fur poking out, extra fur attached to his forearms (don’t ask how got it on there), pointed ears, a bushy tail, pointed fangs, his nose has been painted. Pretty simple.

His drumsticks are splattered with glowing green paint and tipped with tiny light-up pumpkins.

The Other NPCs

Ellie has little bat wings attached to her back and wears a springy bat antenna headband.

And last but not least,

Kliff . . . is just wearing a pair of Groucho Marx glasses. Yup. That's it.

Let me know what you all think. I’d love to hear some feedback. Thanks for reading! Happy Halloween!

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