🌻🍀 Hello and welcome to our second Flufftober Spring Edition 🌻🍀
SURPRISE 🥰
We've decided to bring back our Spring Edition! Just like two years ago, we would like to fill two weeks in March with as much fluff as possible 💛 for that to happen, we present you with 14 prompts, some neutral, some very much spring-themed.
How does this work? 🤩
🌻 Pretty much like our regular Flufftober event in October, so check out our Standard Blog Rules and the FAQ.
🌻 Contrary to the big event, this one only runs for two weeks!
🌻 It runs from March 9th to March 22nd, so prompt 1 is NOT supposed to be posted on March 1st, but on March 9th!
Below the cut, you'll find more information and all the prompts in writing. Please read those carefully, but if you have any more questions, don't hesitate to send us asks 🥰
Friends, once again, we hope you'll show our Spring Event a lot of love. May the prompts inspire you to some fluffy creations.
We wish you a great start to the New Year, and as always
Happy Creating 🥳
Are there any Prompt Extras? 👀
🌻 No, sorry. Since this is a smaller prompt list, you won't find any official prompt extras.
🌻 However, if you really have an issue with one of the prompts, pick your favorite flower and use that as the prompt 😉 but still mention/tag the day you're using it for.
What's the tag to get reblogged? ✍️
🌻 The tag is #fluffspring2026
Make sure there is NO SPACE between fluff and spring and 2026! We will NOT be checking other variations of this tag!
🌻 It's also good to mention us: @flufftober
🌻 We try to reblog regularly, but tumblr likes to be difficult and wonky. If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, please send us an ask with the link to your post.
🌻 Please make sure that all info is easy to find, either in the post or the tags. It costs us a lot of time and energy if we have to research for every other post. So, please make sure to at least include the following very clearly:
🌸 the day/prompt
🌸 the fandom(s) (add "original work" or similar if applicable)
🌸 the characters and/or ship(s) (add "oc" or similar if applicable)
What about the ao3 collection? 📝
🌻 The collection's name is Flufftober Spring Edition 2026 (flufftober_spring_edition_2026)
🌻 Our collections will never close, so you can always add any late entries.
Deadlines are my nemesis 🥹
Don't worry, late entries are always welcome!
🌻 Reblogs will become less regular after the event has ended.
🌻 We will stop checking the event tag after a few months, so please make sure to tag us: @flufftober
SUMMARY: The day after a “job”, you and Molly take a bit of time away from the rest of the Mighty Nein to relax.
CONTENT: Referenced crime, drinking, pining, kissing, love confessions.
A/N: Today’s prompt for Flufftober Spring Edition is “Lazy [enter time of day]” and I decided to go with afternoon. As per usual: please like, comment, and especially reblog - that’s the only way to make sure other people see it too. Here’s my TAGLIST and my MASTERLIST for more.
Lazy afternoon
It had been a long night, sneaking into the manor of the corrupt mayor and gathering evidence before conveniently placing that evidence where it could be found and not be ignored. For once, you dared to admit, the Mighty Nein had pulled off a plan without any accidents. Well...almost: there is right now a guard who’s nursing a bad headache that he never saw coming but thanks to Jester’s skills, his memory would not conjure up any explanation.
Returning to the inn in the wee hours, you’d all just succumbed to sleep but now at noon a call of nature has summoned you to the inn’s common room for a meal.
Already, the place is buzzing with rumours about the arrest of the mayor and while Beau discreetly asks the innkeeper about it, the rest can’t really be bothered, still half asleep.
It’s warm in the room and your belly is getting filled. Sunshine is filtering in through the small windows, illuminating dust most in the square beams of light. It’s a good day.
“Nott and I will do some shopping today before we head on out tomorrow Zadash. Need us to get you anything?” Caleb asks the group in general.
Jester’s face lights up. “Oooh, maybe they have a bakery where I can get donuts!”
“Perhaps it’s better if we just tag along,” Fjord, always sensible, suggests.
Putting the plate down that she’s been licking the bacon grease off, Nott sends the half-orc a toothy smile. “The more the merrier!”
“I’m gonna go down to the lake and relax, I think,” you mumble.
Yesterday, you’d spotted the perfect place on the banks with soft grass and a gnarly tree to lean against.
“Mind if I join you?” The soft lilt of Molly’s voice makes your stomach fill with butterflies.
You like him. You’d never admit to it, of course, but you can’t quite suppress the effect he has on you.
“Feel free,” you manage to smile, hoping you don’t come off as too eager.
---
All the way down to the lake, Molly has been humming, sometimes stopping to pick some flowers but never lagging too far behind you. None of you say anything, but the silence isn’t awkward – it’s comforting.
By the time you reach the old tree, the purple tiefling has a big bouquet of wildflowers.
“This is it,” you motion to the view of the glittering lake.
It’s pretty. Reeds sway on the breeze, dragonflies flit through the air on brilliant wings, and the sun pierces through the foliage of the old tree in spears of gold.
“Nice place, luv,” Molly grins, plopping down in the grass with his flowers.
Your stomach does a somersault at the nicknames but you know it’s just his way of talking. Pushing the fluttery feeling aside, you settle down in the grass too, body in the sun and head in the shade as you stretch out.
“Let’s play a game,” he suggests, hands bending the stems of the flowers to weave something, “simple one.” You turn your head to watch him, an eyebrow cocking for an explanation. “Truth or lie. We tell each other things about the other and they have to admit if they’re true or not.”
“Sounds more like a drinking game.”
Molly grins the kind of wide smile that shows off the sharp tips of his teeth and makes you wonder how they’d feel if you kissed him.
“Yeah, it is...hang on.”
Putting down the rope of flowers, he reaches into his coat and produces an oddly familiar flask.
“You stole Nott’s flask?” you gasp.
“Borrowing...with her blessings, actually.”
You seriously doubt that because you know the goblin doesn’t go anywhere without her booze. Still...you’re innocent in this matter and sharing a drink with Molly can’t hurt.
“Alright...you start,” you nod, sitting up.
He places the flask in the verdant grass between you, hands immediately returning to the task of weaving the flowers.
“Let’s see...you don’t do well with getting compliments.”
It stings because it’s spot on.
“Starting out hard, I see,” you mumble, grabbing the flask and taking a swig of the strong liquor. “My turn.” You have to think. “You don’t do well without compliments.”
He doesn’t lift his head, just the gaze as he reconsiders his opponent in the game...but you know he accepts your insight when he reaches for the flask.
“You’re in love with someone,” he smiles softly.
For a moment you worry if you’ve been too obvious...but that can’t be it. It’s simply a lucky guess. That’s it.
Still, a game is a game and you take the flask, slowly lifting it to your lips. The liquor burns as you swallow, numbing a bit of the worry he’d ignited. It also stop your brain enough from finding a statement for him as you consider the options.
“You...” You gaze falls to his hands. “You were taught to make flower crowns by Yasha.”
Again, he graces you with one of his wide grins. “Too easy!”
He finishes the crown before grabbing the flask and drinking. Then he sets the canister aside, pushes to his knees, and places the crown on your head. Crooked at first but as you reach up to adjust it, he does too and your hands touch. Warm and calloused, strong despite the elegance. Pulling your hand away, you let him fix your accessory.
“Pretty,” he smiles. “And yeah...both your and the crown.”
The heat fills your body and you can’t look him in the eyes anymore.
“My turn,” Molly says softly, grabbing your chin with a finger to turn it back. “I’m the one you love.”
You should lie. Should deny it. But you can’t lie anymore.
“Sorry...I know it’s weird and -” you begin but stop as he leans in only stopping with his lips millimetres from yours.
“Should have asked if I love someone too,” he whispers.
The kiss is slow and somehow more timid than you would have expected from him but even so it still steals your breath away so you’re gasping for air when he pulls back a bit.
“You...you love me?” you manage to say in between the inhalations.
The smile is the brightest yet even if it isn’t the widest. “Yeah. I do.”
tags: modern au / teasings / established relationship / cozy moments / romance / heartwarming / sfw / 564 w.
summary: you and levi start a quiet spring ritual of secret notes — playful teases, small confessions, and subtle observations. each folded message draws you closer, turning fleeting moments into a private, growing bond. spring blooms not just outside but in the small, shared exchanges between you
જ⁀➴ ✉︎ read on ao3 ⋮ fluff spring’26 ⋮ main masterlist
the week after your first spring outing passed quietly, almost lazily. the city bloomed around you, and every time you thought of levi, your grumpy, your chest fluttered a little.
it started with a folded note slipped into your bag one morning. tucked beneath a notebook, you almost didn’t notice it.
“you looked ridiculous with that sun hat. adorable, but ridiculous.”
a laugh slipped out before you could stop it. levi wasn’t there, of course, but you could almost hear the clipped “ridiculous” in his voice. the memory of the park and his watchful eyes made your cheeks warm.
the next day, you had a reply ready. in a tiny envelope, left where he’d notice, on his jacket pocket at the squad room, you wrote:
“i am adorable, and you know it. you’re just jealous.”
levi didn’t comment, but the faint twitch of his lips when he read it made your heart skip.
and so it began.
notes tucked in lunch boxes, folded into books, slipped beneath coffee cups. small, fleeting, deliberate. every word a tease, a confession, a tiny observation. sometimes serious, sometimes ridiculous. always meant for the other’s eyes only.
one evening, another note appeared under your keyboard. carefully, you unfolded it:
“stop staring at your reflection so much. it’s distracting. but… don’t stop entirely.”
your chest warmed again. levi had been watching. not just at the fair, or the park, but quietly noticing the little things. now he was saying it on paper.
you wrote back in tiny handwriting:
“i’ll try… if you promise to stop being so distracting yourself.”
it was left under his coffee mug the next morning. later, you caught him glancing at it, muttering: “ridiculous…” but his eyes lingered longer than needed.
over the days, notes became a language all your own.
“grumpy, you always smell like tea and early spring air. it’s unfair.”
“stop hiding under that jacket. you’re secretly soft. everyone can see it.”
“i might just be stealing your hoodie next time. don’t try to stop me.”
each one carried a tiny thrill. each one made the distance shrink, even when levi pretended it didn’t affect him.
one afternoon, while waiting in the squad room, you noticed a folded note sticking out of his notebook. carefully, you pulled it out:
“i think… i like that you notice the little things. don’t stop noticing me either.”
your heart stopped. levi, your grumpy, was saying what he rarely said aloud. but here it was, on paper, safe and quiet. you smiled, pressing it to your chest, knowing you’d respond soon, carefully, playfully.
these secret notes became your spring ritual. small confessions. teasing observations. tiny ways of saying: i see you. i care.
for the first time, you realized spring wasn’t just warmth or blooms. it was the subtle, quiet ways two people could let each other in.
every note was a step closer. every fold, a bridge. slowly, without noticing, your world and his orbited around those exchanges.
by the time you left your next note, folded neatly, written carefully, you felt a thrill. you couldn’t wait for him to find it. levi always did.
spring wasn’t just outside anymore. it was in the quiet smile that spread across his face when he read your words, the faint warmth when his eyes met yours, the soft, unspoken bond that grew stronger with every secret note shared.
That was his only warning before familiar, warm arms wrapped around him. Usually, Shadow Milk would dart back, leaving Pure Vanilla to only embrace air, or tackle him back. This time, however, he froze, allowing Pure Vanilla to hug and nuzzle him.
He was quite fond of nuzzles, it seemed.
However, he was distracted.
"…what did you just call me?"
"Hmm?" Pure Vanilla paused his nuzzling and looked up. "Ah, Milky?" He pulled away to gently scratch his cheek. "I know it sounds a little silly-"
"I hate it. It sounds ridiculous. I don't call you anything like that."
Pure Vanilla raised a brow. "Yes you do."
"When?"
He cocked his head. "Nilly? Vanilly? Silly Vanilly?"
Shadow Milk scoffed. "That's different."
"Is it?" Pure Vanilla crossed his arms. "I bet I can find worse ones beyond 'Milky'." Shadow Milk cocked his head back, allowing him space to think. "…Lamby. Baby Blue…Prism…"
"These are your worse ones?" Shadow Milk scoffed, ignoring the tinge of disgust at 'Lamby'. He was nothing like a lamb, no matter how hard Pure Vanilla tried to get him to like the wooly things. "Try something more ridiculous."
"Like?"
"Like…" Shadow Milk cupped Pure Vanilla's face and squeezed it, letting out gushy, streaming words, similar to how one would fawn over a baby or an adorable animal. "Ohhh, my little Snuggle Muffin, my Boo Boo Bear, my sweet sugar-coated Coco Puff, my…"
Around his squished cheeks, Pure Vanilla mumbled out "I think Milky is better."
“Blubber fish”
“I am not!” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Shiny fish tackle”
“Stop calling me ridiculous names” There was an exasperated sigh; you could swear you saw some bubbles dropping to the ground from where you were sitting at a kitchen counter. It was going on for hours now — the weirder and weirder pet names slipping into the late evening as you both were cleaning after dinner.
“You started it!”
“Did not”
“Yes, you did! Calling me a clingy calamari, and Humuhumu— whatever that was”
“A hilarious Humuhumunukunukuapua’a” he rolled his eyes, repeating, you could only hope, a cute fish name, so you can take it as a compliment, but you saw how he bit his lip, holding back a laugh.
“That’s what I said.. Humuhumu…kumu” now it was your turn to pout, the name not rolling off your tongue as you would have expected or wanted. This was a serious pet-name-quarell!
He repeated the name with a smirk.
“It’s not my fault that you pursed your lips just like that lil fishie.”
“You… you…” Your cheeks rounded, ears pink, you did not look like a fish! “You catfish! No! You silly, chubby orange cat, you!”
There was a loud gasp, hand covering his mouth at the unspeakable atrocity you have just said “You take it back!” calling him a monstrosity like that, and chubby on top — sacrilegious.
“Nu-uh”
There was a scratch of a chair on the floor, making you stop the laughter threatening to escape. The sight of his offended pouty face turning into a mischievous smirk made you slowly lower yourself onto the floor.
@flufftober Spring Edition Day 1: Welcoming Spring
@tropevarietyhour A Budding Romance Day 27: A Quiet Moment
@superbateveryweek Superbat For All Seasons: Thunder storms
Clark woke to the sound of rain. The sky was dark and cloudy, and the windows were foggy with raindrops slicing unpredictable lines across the planes. The rain was fast and harsh against the window, and Clark knew no farm work would be accomplished today besides the daily feedings and clean-ups.
He blinked languidly, his body lax and comfortable as he focused on the steady breathing next to him. In true Bat fashion, Bruce was dead to the world, sleeping on his stomach, arms buried beneath the pillow with his head facing Clark.
He looked so peaceful in Clark’s bed, heartbeat calm, and Clark smiled as he nudged a hair strand away from his eyes.
Clark felt no shame in the fact that he loves watching Bruce sleep. There’s something intimate about sleeping together, especially given Bruce’s tendency to be paranoid. So to see the physical proof that Bruce, after years of teaming together and months of dating, can trust Clark so much that his body naturally crashes? That the fluttering eyelids and twitching fingers are a result of deep sleep, and not from a decade of living with hypervigilance.
How can anyone expect Clark not to treasure this?
Rumbling sounded outside, flashes of light breaking through the gloomy sky, and Bruce’s face furrowed as he curled to his side, towards Clark’s unnatural body heat. Clark shifted in response, letting instinct guide him as he pulled the blankets further around them, adjusting Bruce closer so that his nose was buried against his side, hands curled between them in what Clark lovingly refers to as the raptor hands.
Clark traced patterns where his hands lay against Bruce’s back, a fond smile forming as Bruce’s face went back to the relaxed state from before.
From across the hallway, he heard Ma’s bed creak, feet shuffling against the cold floor. He knows that he should be responsible and get up too. Help out with the barn at least, while Ma can focus on the house chores.
But Bruce’s body lay heavy against him, and his heartbeat remained slow and steady, and the last thing Claark wanted to do right now was leave this warm bubble of his boyfriend sleeping next to him.
Fifteen minutes, he told himself, pressing a kiss against Bruce’s hairline. Then he’ll get up.
Summary: After Baxter had collected all the data, he only had to compare it with his reference object to get a clear result
Baxter went through his notes with intense concentration. If he wanted 100% accurate results, he had to conduct the experiments exactly as he had done with his first test subject. Niffty had helped him with this, but it probably wouldn't be necessary with his comparison subject. It was also less dangerous if he got caught.
However, it was harder to get hold of this subject, but asking Charlie for help probably wouldn't distort his study too much. When his test subject came strolling down the stairs, he didn't hesitate to approach him.
“Excuse me, do you have a moment?” Having fulfilled the obligatory courtesy, he did not wait for an answer. “Your Highness, is it true that you have problems with names?”
“Eh?” said Lucifer, confused, looking around. “Have you seen Charlie? She wanted me to come here and—”
“I asked her to call you,” Baxter interrupted, pulling out a clipboard. “Please tell me who this is.” He showed him a picture of Charlie that he had taken during one of their sharing sessions.
“Charlie, but where did you get—”
“And this,” it was a picture of Vaggie.
“That's... Charlie's girlfriend,” replied Lucifer, who still didn't know what exactly Baxter wanted from him.
Baxter put the pictures away and showed him one of Husk.
“Um,” Lucifer tilted his head, “Charlie's bartender?” It sounded more like a question than a definite answer.
Nodding, Baxter showed Lucifer a picture of Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb.
“Charlie's spider friend and Charlie's spider friend's friend. What's this about? Lucifer asked, now slightly annoyed by all the questions.
Baxter ignored the question and made some notes. “As expected,” he muttered, which only made his test subject angrier.
“Now listen, I don't have time for this nonsense, um...”
“Baxter, Your Majesty,” Baxter assisted.
“I knew that,” Lucifer replied defiantly. “Did that radio guy tell you to annoy me?”
He rolled his eyes and snorted, “That's just like him. He's always trying to stir up trouble. I bet he's hiding here. Come out, Bambi! I've got you figured out!” Lucifer shouted across the room, and Baxter eagerly took notes.
