Hello! Welcome to my page. You can call me Miss Fluff or simply Fluff. I'm a hobbyist writer who wants to add more softness to the world, one short story at a time. I don't do NSFW, smut, or Dead Dove content.
I tend to take on too many projects at once and burn myself out too quickly, but I'm trying and I try my best. That I can promise.
ꨄ︎ The Elders Scrolls ~ Legend of Zelda ~ Baldur's Gate 3 ~ Puzzle games ~ 70s/80s Pop ~ Romantic Academia ~ The Supernatural (not the tv series) ~ Ornithology ~ Rodents ~ Mustelidae ꨄ︎
ꨄ︎ Links!
♡ Rules (TBA) ♡ Masterlist ♡ AO3 ♡
ꨄ︎ Askbox - Requests are Closed, but my Inbox is *always* open for saying Hello, sharing headcanons, or just chatting. I love to talk to you guys! <3
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When I get blood samples at work sometimes they’re still warm from being imminently inside the patient’s veins and my hands are always cold because all the labs Ive work in are in the basement and they keep it kinda cold for whatever reason (and I’m also just a chilly kid).
And I clutch the little warm tubes of blood and feel this sick person warming my hands and I think about how kind you might be and how I wish I could hold your hand and how badly, how really really badly, I want you to get better and stay warm and hold someone’s hand again.
And anyway sometimes it’s better to not think so vividly about the people I’m doing tests for. I’m a good little cog in a vast machine of people all trying to heal and cure, and my cog feels so fucking small sometimes. But I hope the blood I prepare for you helps you breathe better and laugh and wake up feeling well rested.
We’ve never met but you warmed my hands and I want you to know I love you and I’m rooting for you.
I follow this lady on instagram who rescues cats, and i have been thinking about this video for literal months. behold the transformation of this wretched little beast
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Warnings: Grief, Mourning, Pre-Game Character Death, Loss of Family, Processing Death, Feeling Helpless, Angst with a *Hopeful* Ending.
Words: 1,230
AN: I've actually had this idea in my head for at least a year or two now, and with the release of Early Access for Subnautica 2, I figured now would be a good time to put it on metaphorical paper.~
Robin was silent. She exited the Phi Robotics Center and wordlessly trudged across the snow covered ground toward the metal doors, forever stuck partway open, just enough for a single person or two to slip in and out. Her mind was numb and jumbled. Al-An was... curious. He had never felt his companion feel these emotions. However as curious as he was, the Architect was also somewhat concerned. It was for the same reason as his curiosity; Robin had never had these numbed emotions while he was in her head.
She climbed into the PRAWN suit with a grunt and sat down, the hissing of the robotic joints a routine and familiar sound now. Her hands gripped the control joysticks stiffly. Tense. Pained. Al-An thought he heard a slight cracking from the button console under her thumb, she held it so tightly.
He wanted to ask if she was well, but her incoherant thoughts made him second guess that idea.
The trek in the robot suit was eerily quiet. No words spoken. Not even in Robin's subconcious. The Clunk, Clunk, Clunk of the PRAWN's mechanical footsteps echoed quietly, muffled by the heavy snow buildup. The duo reached the station dock where Robin suddenly stopped the machine. Her dark-brown eyes stared blankly ahead into the horizon line ahead.
Neither one said anything. Neither moved. The bulbous, bell-shaped membrane of an Eye Jelly drifted just within sight of the water's surface before decending into the blue depths.
Snow sprayed everywhere as Robin abruptly turned the PRAWN around and began a reverse trek. Al-An quickly realized where she was going: straight back to the Robotics Center.
"Gotta go grab it-" he heard her thoughts repeating. "I gotta go grab it. Gotta bring it back-"
Grab what, though? Bring back what?
"This must have been Sam's room," Robin had said earlier. "But... something's not right?"
She didn't even give the robot time to fully drop to a crouch before she hopped out, sprinting to the half-open metal doors. Climbing back up the hole in the side of the cave base, she made her way back to the sleeping spaces, where she found Sam's bed. Robin haphazardly threw some pieces of Titanium she'd collected earlier onto the floor, and in one quick motion, scooped up the heavy quilt and pillows from her sister's former sleeping spot and tucked them safely away in her pack.
Al-An wasn't sure how she got back so quickly, but he suddenly found himself, and his host, back at the home base, standing over her own designated sleeping spot.
Robin pulled the comforter out and fluffed it over her bed, the thick fabric gently falling into place. An earthy and slightly sweet smell wafted around the room, soft and familiar. She paused. Sam's perfume... They let her bring some with her? Robin thought to herself. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as a wave of memories flooded over. Al-An was almost overwhelmed, but kept it to himself. His host was very upset, and yet somehow (albeit barely) keeping her composure. He waited for her.
Robin quickly threw the pillows she took from Sam's room on the bed and sat down. Her body started to shake, lips trembling and eyes watering, threatening to lose control and spill over. She cautiously, tentatively laid down on the blanket. The smell of her sister's perfume enveloped her in a bitter cold embrace. Sam's voice rang in her head:
"Alright, I gotta go. Later, baby sis! Love you."
"You're my sister. I love you. I'm sorry."
"Anyway. Message me back. Please? I could really use a friend. You're my sister. I love you."
Robin sobbed. Completely and utterly, brokenly sobbed.
Up until that point, she hadn't properly cried about Sam. A few shocked tears when she first read the templated condolence letter from Emmanuel. A few angry ones for the more personal one from Lillian.
She hated everyone involved; Alterra for putting Sam in that position. Zeta for not taking Sam's concerns more seriously and escalating them. Danielle for not contacting her at all- if she was as close to Sam as their PDA conversations insinuated, then why-
Robin suddenly gasped in a gulp of air and hiccuped. Her eyes were red and puffy and ached. A big wet spot was now on the comforter where her face had just been, a valiant attempt to dry her tears. Her chest heaved, trying to replenish her oxygen. But a new wave of grief hit and she began to weep again.
["The death of your sister is... much more difficult for you to process than I realized,"] Al-An said.
"What am I going to do, Al-An?" Robin whimpered into a pillow. "My sister is dead, she's gone, I can't bring her back-"
["I know. At least that's what you've explained to me before. My people don't have a death process like yours do. This is... unfamiliar to me. I apologize."]
She couldn't fault him for not totally understanding. Not only was there a communication and language barrier, but a cultural one as well. She wanted to be angry at that moment, but couldn't bring herself to be.
"I just miss her so much..."
["I am sensing you have some regrets as well. Did you two not have a strong bond in the end?"] Al-An inquired.
"No, not that, it's..." Robin sighed. "I just wish I could have done more. I should have come here earlier, I should have been there for her..."
["Would it have saved your sister?"]
He didn't mean it cruelly. It was a simple, straightforward question from a place of genuine curiosity. But it still cut Robin deep to her core, and she began to cry again.
That was enough of an answer for Al-An.
["Your databank says Humans usually go through a mourning process called "grief". And that it is normal to feel the way you do."]
Robin pushed herself up onto an elbow and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling of her base. She didn't answer him; she was too worn out.
["Your emotions are not fitting one specific pattern. This seems normal as well. I know I cannot do much to assist you in this... trying time,"] he used a phrase he read in the databank. ["But I will do my best to assist however I can. After all, you are doing so much to assist me. It is the least I can do."]
"...thank you, Al-An," Robin groaned into her arm as she covered her eyes.
["Perhaps if you got some extra rest. Your body is exhausted. And you are grieving."]
Robin could only nod at Al-An's words. He was right, she knew he was. She slowly stood up, letting her spinning head settle, then trudged her way down the short hall to the refrigerator in the mini-cafeteria she built. The exhausted woman procured a cold bottle of filtered water and took a big swig from it.
She put the rest of the bottle on the bed's headboard and collapsed back down. As she slowly sank into Sam's old blankets, Robin got a renewed sense of driving force in her mission; she'd find out what happened to her sister. Sam would be avenged, and Alterra would pay dearly.
But first, she'd give herself some time to work through the grief a bit.
Me: Hey, I'm so-and-so, just calling because my brother ate here, and he ordered the clams? And I just wanted to give you a heads up that he's got really, really bad food poisoning.
Worker: We order everything fresh from a reliable source.
Me: That's great, I just wanted to let you know just in case.
Worker: Well it couldn't have been us, we follow a very strict procedure.
Me: ....Okay, yeah, I'm not looking for compensation or anything. It could have been something else. I just wanted to give you guys a heads up in case, I don't know, something happened in transit, or someone has the flu or something.
Worker: They don't. We don't do that.
Me: ......
Me: Okay well like I said, I'm not calling to complain, we're just covering our bases. Thanks though.
Worker: Okay. Have a good one.
Me: You too
*click*
Me to my brother: They say it wasn't them
My brother, still hunched over on his porcelain throne five hours deep into solo level grinding a toilet+bucket X2 combo breaker marathon for the title of King Shits, Lord and Ruler of the Bon Bon Von Püpenshittën Empire: it's fine
Listen I am so very sorry to hear your brother is so violently ill however "title of King Shits, Lord and Ruler of the Bon Bon Von Püpenshittën Empire" has me fighting for my life to not wake up the house with my cackling.
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The one about the ship no one else cares about, or the deeply unpopular character, or the extremely unusual AU?
The fic that got no comments or kudos when you posted it?
Months or years from now, that fic might be exactly what someone is looking for in the sea of fics about all the popular characters, ships, and AUs.
Your fic might be the only fic out there that has what someone is looking for. The only fic that scratches the itch that it turns out you and that reader share.
quarterly reminder that if i reblog something ai-generated it is 110% and always an accident and for the love of god please tell me so i can delete it from my blog
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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lowkey wish I could get into The Mighty Nein (sp?) or just. Critical Role in general again (i was once. not anymore).
But anytime I think "oh maybe I'll watch one episode" or "eh I should just pick a random campaign episode and go from there", I go
".....nah that's okay." *goes back to whatever creativity I was attempting before*