Fluff

Inbox is open. Fandom author, occasionally Adult

[bi-disaster-artist]

I wish I had more creative energy recently, but I can barely get out of bed.

[bi-disaster-artist]

Thoughts on Grace

Ficlet

Ryland Grace is not okay. Everyone knows. He sits on the beach, alone. Waiting, watching. Watching the sky that isn’t really a sky.

He knows that, but he doesn’t like to know. It makes him feel like a caged animal, rabid and scared and angry.

The artificial wind brushes his hair into his eyes, and he raises a hand to brush it away. It sticks uncomfortably against his skin, but he pushes it back. The golden brown strands are getting long, but he can’t cut it yet. The person in the mirror would be too close to the man he left on earth.

Ryland Grace swallows. His throat feels full of sand and salt. He misses earth. He wonders what his students are like now. They would be adults with careers and possibly children of their own. He misses the sunshine, the dirt, trees, grass. He misses the birds most of all.

Erid has no birds. The air is quiet, too quiet. Waves and wind, yes, but no life. Nothing but him and the occasional visitor. Their musical voices color the dull atmosphere with a bit of life, but they are often gone in hours.

Night is the worst.

It’s so silent. He has to talk to himself to sleep, or the memories of the last few months of traveling the Hail Mary will return. The silence, starvation, suffering of himself and his companion.

Rocky visits when he can, and it’s always worth celebrating. They miss each other far too much. Grace worries what will happen when he inevitably succumbs to human aging. They’re so intertwined, Rocky might not be able to live. He wouldn’t die of a broken heart, Ryland isn’t worried about that. He worries that Rocky won’t truly live, he’d just survive.

Adrian would be there for him, of course, but…

Ryland stops thinking for a while. He stands and starts the trek back to his little home the Eridians built for him. He does like it, it’s beautiful and cozy. The walls echo and he has many modern comforts, compared to Mary. He sits in his kitchen, drinks what might be coffee (it’s caffeine, who cares), and watches the waves from the window.

It’s lonely, being the only one of his species on the planet.

He chuckles and tilts his head back. At least he has all the free time to entertain himself with strange new materials and people.

He wonders what Stratt is doing. He hopes it was worth it.

[bi-disaster-artist]

Ok I need to talk about Eva Stratt.

PHM SPOILERS

I love her, first off. She did what she knew was best and necessary for humanity to survive for the next 30 years of gradual ice age. Breeding Astrophage for the Hail Mary in the Sahara and planting nukes under the ice in Antarctica was genius work, and she brought it all together.

Now. I am an environmentalist who treasures the animals on our planet, and I would have a stroke if someone actually planned to pave the Sahara and nuke the penguins. The absolute cost of saving humanity is the planet in the long run, and there are two sides of me. One says, fuck them kids, let Mother Nature figure it out. But the other says, the ice age means everything will die. Either way, earth is screwed, it’s just a matter of who’s more important. In her eyes, it’s humans. And why wouldn’t it be?

Eva Stratt loves humanity, and wants to see it grow and evolve and expand.

Risking it all.

Project Hail Mary comes back with a solution? The sun is restored to its full glory in the next few decades with Grace’s discovery, giving humanity time to recover and set up safety nets for the coming heat.

Humanity wins by surviving and gaining knowledge that further space travel is possible. Humanity grows beyond our planet. We will be broken and shattered, but we now know that there is a way to spread, and curiosity has always been a central part of being human, so why not try to reach the stars once again?

Project Hail Mary fails? Well, we tried, humanity is not strong enough to fight this one. But we tried. And future generations will still survive and tell those stories. The earth may freeze over, but the humans that survive will continue to live and die and populate.

Everything will grow back, even when humanity is gone, but why not make it last a bit longer, because that’s the way humans have always done it. We fight til the end.

Most people don’t like Eva for what she did to Grace, and a smaller group don’t like her for her ruthlessness. But I admire her for that. She said “humanity is staying alive for however long I can make it.”

Eva Stratt loves humanity so god damn much, she risks everything in her lifetime to make sure we survive a catastrophe.

Eva Stratt is a ruthless, intelligent, and brutally real woman, and I think we should admire historians much more than we do.

[bi-disaster-artist]

Hi! I’m Fluff

I take requests

I’ll write 200-500 word ficlets

I write NSFW, DDDNE, Minors DNI, please

Fixated on HSR, Genshin Impact, Star Wars, and various anime

[slayingfiction]

Words to use instead of ‘said’

**Using the word ‘said’ is absolutely not a bad choice, and in fact, you will want to use it for at least 40% of all your dialogue tags. Using other words can be great, especially for description and showing emotion, but used in excess can take away or distract from the story.

Neutral: acknowledged, added, affirmed, agreed, announced, answered, appealed, articulated, attested, began, bemused, boasted, called, chimed in, claimed, clarified, commented, conceded, confided, confirmed, contended, continued, corrected, decided, declared, deflected, demurred, disclosed, disputed, emphasized, explained, expressed, finished, gloated, greeted, hinted, imitated, imparted, implied, informed, interjected, insinuated, insisted, instructed, lectured, maintained, mouthed, mused, noted, observed, offered, put forth, reassured, recited, remarked, repeated, requested, replied, revealed, shared, spoke up, stated, suggested, uttered, voiced, volunteered, vowed, went on

Persuasive: advised, appealed, asserted, assured, begged, cajoled, claimed, convinced, directed, encouraged, implored, insisted, pleaded, pressed, probed, prodded, prompted, stressed, suggested, urged

Continuously: babbled, chattered, jabbered, rambled, rattled on

Quietly: admitted, breathed, confessed, croaked, crooned, grumbled, hissed, mumbled, murmured, muttered, purred, sighed, whispered

Loudly: bellowed, blurted, boomed, cried, hollered, howled, piped, roared, screamed, screeched, shouted, shrieked, squawked, thundered, wailed, yelled, yelped

Happily/Lovingly: admired, beamed, cackled, cheered, chirped, comforted, consoled, cooed, empathized, flirted, gushed, hummed, invited, praised, proclaimed, professed, reassured, soothed, squealed, whooped

Humour: bantered, chuckled, giggled, guffawed, jested, joked, joshed

Sad: bawled, begged, bemoaned, blubbered, grieved, lamented, mewled, mourned, pleaded, sniffled, sniveled, sobbed, wailed, wept, whimpered

Frustrated: argued, bickered, chastised, complained, exasperated, groaned, huffed, protested, whinged

Anger: accused, bristled, criticized, condemned, cursed, demanded, denounced, erupted, fumed, growled, lied, nagged, ordered, provoked, raged, ranted remonstrated, retorted, scoffed, scolded, scowled, seethed, shot, snapped, snarled, sneered, spat, stormed, swore, taunted, threatened, warned

Disgust: cringed, gagged, groused, griped, grunted, mocked, rasped, sniffed, snorted

Fear: cautioned, faltered, fretted, gasped, quaked, quavered, shuddered, stammered, stuttered, trembled, warned, whimpered, whined

Excited: beamed, cheered, cried out, crowed, exclaimed, gushed, rejoiced, sang, trumpeted

Surprised: blurted, exclaimed, gasped, marveled, sputtered, yelped

Provoked: bragged, dared, gibed, goaded, insulted, jeered, lied, mimicked, nagged, pestered, provoked, quipped, ribbed, ridiculed, sassed, teased

Uncertainty/Questionned: asked, challenged, coaxed, concluded, countered, debated, doubted, entreated, guessed, hesitated, hinted, implored, inquired, objected, persuaded, petitioned, pleaded, pondered, pressed, proposed, queried, questioned, quizzed, reasoned, reiterated, reported, requested, speculated, supposed, surmised, testified, theorized, verified, wondered

This is by no means a full list, but should be more than enough to get you started!

Any more words you favor? Add them in the comments!

Happy Writing :)

[bi-disaster-artist]

Hi! I’ve been really REALLY into Eli Sunday x reader fanfic. Especially ones where he’s a whiny, bottom, uptight virgin boy who is strict toward biblical law but obviously wants to explore his fantasies of the reader (whomst is an attender of his church and also madly in love with him the way I sorta am) but is all the while ashamed of doing so bc.. God and all that. I’ve read one before that was SO good in only a few parts (him kneeling before the altar of a church and ugly crying over the bible while touching himself and crying out to God) it was a little disappointing otherwise so I wanna find more like it because it itched such a part in my brain(?)(unlocked something) So I was wondering if its not too much trouble to write something like that? Obviously I understand if you can’t, you’ve prolly got lots of requests n stuff so take ur time cuz I love ur writing. (I’ve read for a while but never had an account til now) I can give more details about what I want if you like, idk if I added enough at all so just let me know. I want allllll of it. The priest kink stuff, the humiliation of him, degrading him, putting him on his knees and making him worship you as if the reader is the God he so willingly follows. Crying. Lots of snot nosed, red faced, body shaking, eye bulging crying because of overstimulation, or edging. Any of that, all of it rly. Anyway, that is all for me bye bye

OH MY GOD THANK UOU ONE AND TWO IM SO SORRY FOR NOT GETTING TO THIS SOONER ILL WORK ON IT ASAP

[always-andromeda]

Robin Buckley and ‘Way Out There’? Your writing is so lovely, you deserve every 💞

Author's Note | thank you for giving me the gift of this request. I adore Robin with all of my heart so I am happy to give her the love and life she deserves!

Robin knew from the second she met you that Hawkins wasn't nearly large enough to contain you and her. With both of your personalities combined, she always saw the two of you going far away. Where? Who knows. But she rotates through different cities, states, and even countries in her head.

She thinks you and her would do well in some sort of commune somewhere. Until she remembers that she's absolutely terrible at...most kinds of manual labor. Besides, it's just you she really wants.

She wants to be somewhere where she can take you to a diner and share a milkshake and fries with you; watch your nose scrunch up when she dollops whipped cream on it. Wants to lay out a blanket in a backyard and stare into the inky sky with you. Wants to count all of the freckles on your arms and memorize their placements. Wants to live somewhere where she doesn't have to call you just her best friend.

Because even though you are her best friend, she much prefers the sound of the title: girlfriend.

The conversation starts small. Just a little dream held between two girls under the shadow of sheets at midnight. Small giggles and rambling plans that Robin swears she'll make happen. She'll start saving up what she makes from the Family Video. You and her are going to buy a Volkswagen camper with the cute little stripes running along the side and you're going to travel across the country in it. Every night will be a sleepover. 

You giggle at her, "Baby, you don't even have your license yet."

"Oh, technicalities..." she lowers her brow indifferently and sighs before kissing you long and hard. You smile against her chapped, puffy lips. You wish this could be forever. Just you and Robin, peppering kisses on each other's faces and daydreaming.

But Robin's idea of forever is slightly different. Because she's serious. And when she has her mind set on something, she gets it done.

Nearly a year later on graduation day, you look so beautiful. So smiley and excited as you accept your diploma. And Robin is ecstatic that before too long, she'll get to call you hers.

Before you have the chance to toss your cap, Robin's hand finds yours in the crowd of your peers. She drags you out of the auditorium and nearly stumbles when you reach the grass outside. But she's looked forward to this day for far too long to worry about scraping her knees and the way you giggle, "What are we going, Robin?"

Your eyes go wide when you see it: that cream colored Volkswagen camper with the orange stripes on the side that you'd only seen in your mind's eye.

Once she pulls the blue graduation gown over her head and shakes out her hair, Robin digs a hand into her front pocket. Out that hand comes with a set of keys, shining bronze in the early morning sunlight; the keys to your future.

"C'mon, loser, are you getting in or not?" Robin stands, waiting expectantly and holding the passenger side door of the camper open.

You smile and rush forward, pressing a wet kiss to her freckled cheek and saying, "Of course. I'd go anywhere with you."

Just that one sentence fills Robin with enough euphoria that she's sure she'll never feel sad again. It's just Robin and you, her girl. And she's taking you to the Gayest city in California: San Francisco.

[frogpronouns]

what you need to understand about recommending a show to me is that no matter how much we both know I'll like it, I can't watch it until the Neurodivergence Department in my brain approves it. I don't know when that will be, and I don't have any more control over it than you do.

[legitimately]

need a full body massage a margarita 400mg of ibuprofen a plate of brownies at least an hour in a jacuzzi and 20,000 dollars cash

[legitimately]

[bi-disaster-artist]

Sweet Dreams

Klitz (kinda Eli/Klitz)

T for teen

No warnings

_______

He was burnt out. His hands shook as he held his pencil, trying not to break.

Empty head, he couldn’t think, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat.

He was so so tired. Just wanted to curl up in bed with Eli and sleep forever. Cuddle with his cat and watch whatever weird indie stuff Eli brought with him this time.

Klitz was exhausted and he needed his friend to comfort him and tell him he’d be ok.

He stood up from his desk, taking a folder and a few pieces of paper with a pen and sat back on his bed, propping his upper body up with some pillows and began drawing. Shitty little sketches of trees, birds, nature, as his mind relaxed and unwound from the stress it was under.

After about ten minutes of this, he picked up his flip phone and called Eli, asking him to come over. He’d be there in less then five, he’d promised, and Klitz smiled for the first time in a while.

When the doorbell rang, he greeted his friend and they retreated to the familiar comfort of his room. Eli put a tape into the VCR and threw a blanket on top of Klitz, telling him to lay down and relax. Klitz did just that.

Within the hour, the boys were cuddled up, hands interlaced, as they softly snored away, not a care in the world

[bi-disaster-artist]

Don’t Get Too High and Mighty, Preacher

Eli Sunday x Reader

Gender neutral reader

Warnings: religion, religious trauma, language, boot worship, exhibitionism

A/N: this is also up on AO3, I am Teeny_Fluff on there, I promise this is mine lol. That being said, have fun fellow sinners :)

You stood in the doorway of the church, listening in on the sermon. The preacher spat his words out to the feverish crowd, begging God for their forgiveness. You’d seen him “throwing the spirit of the devil” out of an old woman’s hands once, a while back.

His shrill voice made you cringe. It wasn’t like he held any different feelings for you. You hated his pushy behavior, constantly trying to convince the poor people of Little Boston to join his church, join his sermons.

Eli Sunday was the bane of your existence, and you his.

Staring at him as he gestured wildly, loudly asking the crowd if there was a sinner who wanted to be cleansed of their sins, you raised your hand high.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw your arm, raised up high above your head. “Well, then! Thank you, thank you for giving yourself this opportunity,” he smiled, without kindness or sincerity.

Your boots thudded as you strode up to the platform, right into the glow of the cross above it. Eli’s smile never faded as he touched your hand, grasping it to raise once again.

“This brave one has volunteered to cleanse themselves in front of our lord!” His loud words made you flinch, but you stood still. Up until he got into your face.

“Now what sins would you like to confess and be clean of, friend?” Slimy prick. You moved back a tiny bit, tilting your head and giving him a saccharine smile.

“I am confessing to the sin of being a voyeur, Eli,” came your measured response, as he fell into your own little trap. His green eyes opened wide as he dropped your arm to spread his own.

“Go on then! Say ‘I am sorry lord, for being a sinner!’!”

Your voice cracked on the first word.

“I am sorry lord for being a sinner.”

“Louder!”

“I am sorry, my lord, for being a sinner!”

Eli lit up as you flushed, his breath coming fast and quick as he got worked up.

“Good. Now what was your sin?”

Your face split into a grin.

“I am a voyeur, but not of my own volition! I stopped by the church last week to ask for some godly advice, and I stumbled upon Father Sunday. In the pews.”

Silence. Your grin got sharper as you turned to Eli.

“I saw Father Eli engaging in sin. I saw Father Eli engaging in the sins of the flesh. In the sin of lust.”

Your words rang out over the stunned congregation as Eli began hyperventilating. You touched him on the shoulder, gently, as he looked at you in confusion before you shoved him to the ground.

“Now that’s not very holy, is it. Preacher.”

His pathetic gasps for you to stop talking were drowned out by your soft voice ringing in everyone’s ears. He sat kneeled at your feet, hands clasped in a silent prayer as you knelt to touch his face.

“You are the one who tells all of these good, holy people here, that they will be punished by God if they engage in the sins of the mortal flesh, yes? And here you are, below me, having committed a sin of the flesh, and not stopping despite having seen me.”

His face blanched, but you saw a tightening in his trousers. How pathetic.

“No, you, Father Eli, kept going as you saw me in the window. Now you say it. Sinner.”

His eyes filled with tears as he shook his head, whimpering like a dog.

“No, no, no, I can’t, I can’t, you can’t make me!” He wailed, grasping at your trousers.

You kicked at him, causing the whining man to sprawl onto his own church’s floor.

“Yes I can, Eli Sunday.” You grabbed his hair and dragged him upright, forcing him to look at his shocked people.

“Look at your flock, my dear friend of God. Look at how they stare at you, you pathetic, meek, insolent child.” You threw him down again, hearing a thud and a groan, then standing back up.

“Now, my dear servant of the Lord, repent for your sins. Confess your blasphemy.” The words that came from your mouth were calm, quiet. Everyone was staring at you, and him.

“I- I cannot-!“ he shrieked, then coughed as you slapped him across the face.

“Try again. ‘Oh Heavenly Father, please accept my confession. I am a sinner.’ Like that, Eli,” you teased him, relishing in his suffering.

His tears were starting to drip onto the wood, staining it. You wanted to take his face in your hands and lick them, just to taste his misery. Another day. Today you would be satisfied by his humiliation.

He mumbled what sounded like words, and you sighed, yanking his head back and slapping him again.

“Louder, Eli!! Your flock can’t hear you with your head down!” You looked up at the ceiling, forcing his head up as well. “God can't hear you!”

“Oh Heavenly Father, I am a sinner!” His voice broke as he sobbed into your pants, finger gripping the fabric uselessly. “Oh Heavenly Father, I am a sinner of the flesh! Please forgive me,” he cried out to whoever was listening, you, the congregation, God.

The stunned quiet was broken by his quiet crying into your leg, and your patronizing shushes as you brushed his hair.

“Now that wasn’t too hard, now was it, preacher?”

The formerly energetic and proud man sat slumped beneath you, breath coming in short, hot pants. You noticed the tent in his trouser hadn’t gone down, and smirked. Your own trousers stretched over your knees as you crouched down to his level.

Repeating your question in a stern voice, you lifted his head again, digging your fingers into his soft brown hair.

He whimpered pitifully and opened his mouth.

“N- no.. no. Please..”

You cocked your head as your free hand grazed his jaw, tilting his head up to look you in the eye. His pupils were blown, there was barely any green left. He was enjoying this.

Your boot nudged into the space between his legs as you stood once more, pressing down on his crotch while you spoke.

“Here is your preacher, your prophet, your voice of the lord on earth, cowering below me. This is just a man,” your voice echoed through the holy room, bouncing off the walls, scorning Eli as he tried to shift his hips.

You pressed down harder and he squeaked, yelping like a little bird.

“I am more holy than thou, preacher. I have come from dirt and am able to make you cower below me like a common dog.” You patted his head as he tried to subtly move his erection into the only source of friction he could get, while also trying to move away from you. Pathetic paradox.

You scoffed and looked at the crowd, mouth set into a hard line. “What say you about his lies? What say you about his deceit of his flock, of you?”

Most of their faces were blanched, pale as ghosts. Some stood and left, the sight of their “prophet” left kneeling below someone too much to handle. Maybe they’d return in a week, just to see what has become of him.

“Well, then. I’d say this Sunday’s meeting has come to a close. May the lord give you all safe travels. Amen.” Your cold gaze slid down to Eli, as more people turned to leave, his tear streaked face stayed hidden in your leg, hips moving up to grind on the soles on your boot. You rolled your eyes and removed the shoe when the church doors had closed, leaving him to whimper softly and hang his head.

“Now what, Sunday?”

[bi-disaster-artist]

Nightly Routines and Sleep

Bruce Wayne blurb

284 words

No warnings apply, just a lot of fluff and a good nights sleep for our favorite wet cat

————

Heavy

Head feels heavy, limbs feel heavy, everything feels like a weight pressing down on my body.

Those thoughts run through Bruce’s mind as he sits in his cave, arms resting on his desk as he stares at the newest murder victim in a string of cases he’d been working on for the past few weeks. He could feel his eyelids drooping as he struggled to stay awake, fingernails digging into his palms, leaving moon shaped indents in the pale skin.

He gave up on trying to focus when his head slipped and dipped, nearly causing him to crash onto the desk. Standing up slowly, he made his way to the elevator and up to spend the night in his bed for once. Maybe shower, or take a short bath.

His clothes made a trail leading to his bathroom, steam soon billowing out from under the closed door. His hair floated around his face as he sank into the pleasantly scented bubbles and water. Minty suds coated his arms as he washed the grease and grime from the day off into the water, gently cleaning him of his worries and stress.

A fluffy white towel was grabbed from a shelf.

Toothbrush wet and teeth cleaned as best he could as sleep fought to take him.

Eyes drooping, he pulled on a fresh oversized shirt and joggers from the hamper, wrapping himself in the familiar scent of his home.

His bed welcomed him with clean sheets and a figure waiting for him. Curling up into a ball, allowing them to hold him close to them, he finally succumbed to the grasp of sleep as the sun broke the horizon beyond the windows of Wayne Tower.

[bi-disaster-artist]

Hi, I’m Fluff. This is my writing blog.

I’ll write for anything. Pretty much.

Hannibal (2013)

Doctor Octavius (Raimi/TSSM)

Norman Osborn (Raimi)

Adrian Chase (Peacemaker 2022)

If you guys could send me some requests, that’d be great!!

[bi-disaster-artist]

Hi...

They type, then press delete, pushing the key down with more force then necessary. Groaning, they release the poor key and move to grab a cup of lukewarm water.

They take a sip and grimace when the sour water touches their tongue. Gross.

The computer screen sits blankly, screen white, bright and taunting before the slouched figure in a dark room. Itchy fingers reach to the keyboard, tapping out sentences after sentences.

10 pm... 11pm... 12 pm...

The clock strikes one in the morning. They start at the noise, looking up with bleary, sleepless eyes at the offending clock. Bed... bed sounds real good to an aching back and tired bones.

They crawl in, plugging in their headphones and drifting off to the sound of tapping. Tapping. Tapping. Tapping.

The tapping isn’t coming from the headphones anymore.

[bi-disaster-artist]

I have not abandoned you. I’m a junior in high school, and life has been really busy. My ADHD is acting up and I haven’t been able to focus.

If you want more, I can try to write it, but no promises for it being done.

Headcanons and small lists are open if you want, but I cannot write a whole fanfiction.

[bi-disaster-artist]

Do you write full fics for slashers as well as Billy? I have an idea.

It depends, what’s the idea

[bi-disaster-artist]

Babes I’m so sorry I’ve been all over the place with fandoms and work and AHHHHHHHH

bullshit

So currently, I’m into The Arcana fandom. It’s an amazing game and ahhhhh im so gay for Nadia and Portia help