#if snippets

[agentark]

CHILL?

MC lobbed a dodgeball and then Ms. V launched a nuke back

[eggwishing]

I ONCE TRIED TO WASH THAT SCUFFED OLD THING WHILE HE WAS TAKING ONE OF HIS NAPS, BUT WHEN I TOOK IT OFF HE WAS WEARING ANOTHER IDENTICAL ONE UNDERNEATH! AND ANOTHER! I GOT THROUGH TEN MORE LAYERS OF THE SAME THING BEFORE HE WOKE UP. I WAS SO FRUSTRATED! WHERE DID HE EVEN GET THOSE FROM? THEY ALL EVEN HAD THE SAME STAINS!!

[writersbloxx]

Body Language

When someone is…

Nervous/Anxious

Face:

Darting eyes/avoiding eye contact

Rapid blinking

Tense jaw

Looking upwards when talking or fixing eyes on a more distant point

Furrowed (or raised) brows

Frowning

Blushing 

Micro-expressions- quick/short facial expressions like suddenly widening their eyes or a brief grimace

Voice:

Shaky or trembling

Higher pitch or thin

Breathy

Wavering

Raspy or slightly cracked

Hesitant

Speaking quickly or stuttering

Choppy (many pauses in speech)

Shorter, clipped words (staccato)

Gestures/Posture:

Tense, closed off stance

Hunched shoulders

Body is stiffened

Crossed arms

Fidgeting

Touching clothes

Cracking knuckles

Bouncing knee

Subtly covering their mouth

[eldritch-ace]

I love this trend and I’ve been seeing some regional Mikus, so take a New Mexican birthday girl in honor of Zozobra and hatch chile season. 🌵🫔⛰️

[problemchildnumber69]

There is absolutely a game where Neil gets slammed into the wall and it dislocates his shoulder, except that the force at which he then hits the court floor is so much that he cleanly gets it popped back in and then he's up like a shot as if nothing happened and all the foxes are just :O and Neil is like :|

And Andrew is in goal just pointing to the court doors with his racket just >:| and Neil slinks out to let Abby look at his shoulder.

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

CW: Aphrodisiacs, Dubcon, Cervix Penetration

Imagine dating a monster whose saliva acts a potent aphrodisiac. Cumming endlessly on their thick tongue as it rams your cunt and twists within your womb. The flood of slick pouring out of your cunt mixing deliciously with their saliva.

They can’t fit their cock inside you but they’ll be damned if they don’t stuff your womb.

The worse is the aftermath. Their aphrodisiac saliva now covers your cunt inside and out. Creating an itch of throbbing arousal that can’t be abated. Your monster boyfriend watches amusedly as you spend the rest of the day trying to be productive. Catching you rutting against pillows and table corner.

You beg for their tongue once more and it smiles. You will be stuck in this lewd cycle for as long as you’re addicted to its tongue. 

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

if the military wanted you to have a wife, they'd issue you one. Soap's heard that saying once or twice.

and here you are. claiming to be his... issuance.

you tilt your head. "you don't remember signing up for the program?"

no. no, he doesn't. his eyes dart down to your lips for a fraction of a second before returning to your eyes. he'd remember that. more to the point, he'd remember whatever he did to deserve this. he looks you up and down again, disbelief and desire flashing across his face, and not in equal measure.

you’re like if someone wrung the starry slurry of thoughts constituting what makes a perfect woman directly from his brain matter, let it ferment and clarify like honey wine, put marriage papers in her hand, and dressed her in a… in a fucking… are those stockings stretching up under your skirt?

hell’s bells. you’re one part girl next door, one part muse—the one his hand can never quite shape on the page to match what’s in his head—and several shades of his favorite porn star. an old-fashioned pin-up doll in the flesh.

"you're not John MacTavish, then," you say, peering down at the papers in your hand with a small frown. "so sorry to bother you—"

“no, hold on.” he takes a step closer. “i’m him, aye. but the program...” the application questionnaire. filling it out was nothing more than a drunken bet with Gaz, but yes, he dimly remembers it. doesn't recall turning it in, but maybe he was drunker than he thought. “it's real?"

“completely real. i was selected for you based on the preferences you specified,” you tell him. you shift the clipboard into your other arm, pleasant smile turning into a frown. "but i couldn't possibly ask you to sign a marriage certificate sponsored by a program you don't even remember applying for."

oh, that is rich. you don’t seem to see the humor here. it’s absurd. have you not seen yourself? he'd be daft to pass on someone as bonnie as you.

not to mention you seem more than a little disappointed at the idea of being turned down. that fuels his ego even more.

 "you're sayin' you're a part of that military partnership program, aye? and you were handpicked as my spouse based on a few questions?"

you helpfully produce a copy of his responses in pink triplicate. sure enough, he recognizes his own drunken scrawl.

none of the questions have anything to do his preferences looks-wise. career aspirations, communication preferences, hobbies, his ideal saturday night. his sleeping habits. this is a psychological profile. CIA shite, as Gaz would say.

he doubts his drunken self read more than a few lines of this paperwork while he was constructing his dream girl in the survey blanks.

as he studies the page a little too closely, your small frown turns into a frustrated scowl. "john? um, i mean."

it instantly pulls his eyes back to your lips.

you twirl a strand of hair around your finger. "it’s nice to meet you,” you say in a tone that makes it clear what you’re really saying is ‘hey, stud, i'm looking forward to the honeymoon.’

that’s your attempt, at least. but Soap sees more than you mean to show. the way you play that card--the way you twirl your damn hair--is the clumsiest, most blatant attempt to flirt. somehow, that's what catches him off-guard the most. It makes his heart squeeze. god, are you nervous? you?

he runs over the back of his teeth in the split second before his signature lazy smirk slides back across his face. "happy you got paired up with a bloke like me?"

he hands the paperwork back to you. you take it back with great relief and nestle it securely into the crook of your elbow. you’re certain he didn’t sign every single blank he was supposed to, but he won’t remember that. you’ll check the signature lines later and forge his handwriting to finish it.

you smile prettily at him. then you make it a little more coy. you should be bashful--he's handsome. "i'm lucky. you're special forces. i’m a nobody, really. if you want, you could try filing for a spouse upgrade. if you want a really good fiancée..."

“fiancée." Soap rolls the word around his tongue. "is that what i should call you?”

"well. you saw my name on the paperwork," you point out. you know very well he didn't.

before he can ask any more questions, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek and pull away, walking down the hall with documents in tow. his gaze is heavy on your back.

the documents in your arm are real enough. Soap really did complete that questionnaire, just like how he remembers. getting the application turned in is what required a little creative effort.

but as long as nobody looks too closely at the military ID photocopied in the application file, they won't notice that the mostly-obscured face of the soldier who turned the application in doesn't look much like Soap at all.

...

more Soap / masterlist

[pangur-and-grim]

Belphie got to join me on an important business call today

[frownyalfred]

okay but the delicious angst of Batman and Robin getting trapped in a collapse or some other situation where an agonized Bruce is the only thing holding up the rubble/a piece of concrete on his back above an injured Dick, playing at being Superman by holding a superhuman amount of weight on his shoulders because if he lets go, they’ll both be crushed? and Dick wakes up, instantly clocks the situation, and knows that the only thing he can do to help is talk Bruce through it. to distract him long enough for someone to find them. to keep going, B, you can do it—

[shycorvid]

I am not immune to magical animal transformation fics. Also, my cat!Danny agenda. So, like, Damian finding a magically transformed Danny, mistaking him for a regular cat, then sneaking him into the manor obviously tickles my fancy. But also, Cat!Danny winning Alfred over by being a complete narc every time one of the bats try to do something stupid while injured is just... *chef's kiss*

Bruce- *trying to sneak down to the batcave while injured* Danny- *looking for mischief, sees injured Bruce swaying in hallway* Mrow? Bruce- Shh. Danny- *slightly louder* Mrep?! Bruce- I will give you all the tuna in the world if you- Danny- *air raid level yowling*

[hemlock-dreams]

local merc tries to play chicken.

[agentark]

R Verner, opening their mouth: 😎😏😉

S Dorran, milliseconds later: 🤨😑🤔

exhibit a

exhibit b sofia, we're all about to die can you roast ruby later

[reguluskeys]

Regulus writing James love letters, only signing them with a star at the end, because he doesn’t know how to properly express his emotions and is terrified of rejection from the embodiment of the sun.

James trying to figure out who wrote the letters and slowly becoming friends with regulus, and overtime hoping he’s the one sending the notes.

Regulus slipping up and accidentally quoting himself, making James realize his wish came true.

[writersbloxx]

Character Building

Some things to think about when building/describing a character:

Physical traits

Hair: color and length. Maybe it's natural, maybe it's dyed

Build: height, weight, muscle

Face: maybe they have a longer nose or forehead. Think about specific features like freckles, gapped teeth, jaw shape, acne scars, lip shape

Eyes: eye color, shape, 

Backstory

Where is your character from?

Do they have family? How has that affected their personality?

What are their goals?

What are their likes/dislikes?

Strengths and weaknesses

Age

Personality

Voice: is their voice deep? Lilted? Strained?

How do they react to stressful situations? 

What do they wear?

Are they kind? Meaner? Restrained? 

How do they move? If they're older maybe they're a bit slower. Maybe your character is clumsy or move awkwardly

Body language/face: is your character normally more serious? Do they have RBF? Maybe they smile more or their face is more relaxed at rest. Maybe they leave their hands on their hips a lot, or prefer them crossed or in their pockets.

How are they perceived by others? How do they view the people around them? 

Should I dive deeper on some of these?

[saltystingray]

Drowning in anger unfiltered, i see now we are two sides of the same coin. There is no glory to be had, and pride has no place here. May the best man win.

(Do not edit or repost)