Happy April 1st everyone, and this isn't an april fools prank, the prompt list is HERE! The prompts were chosen through first a prompt jar that got a total of 40 responses (nearly double what we got last year!) that gave us roughly 350 prompts. From there 70 text and dialogue prompts were chosen and put in for the voting form. The top 31 of each type made it onto the list, one of each for each day of the month!
And, since this is our second year running Fluffy July, we have decided to DOUBLE the amount of alternate prompts as well! Like last year, 10 of them are the mods' favorite prompts that didn't quite make the cut for the list, but this year we also have 10 prompts that were fan-favorites!
Rules:
Works can be in any medium. Fanfictions, original works, podfics, recs, whatever you please, go for it!
Prompts should be responded to in a form of fluff
You don't have to create for all the days to participate in the event
Works only need to include one of the daily prompts or an alternate
Prompts can be used after the event has ended. The AO3 collection will stay open indefinitely and as long as you tag us we will reblog. (although it might take longer than it would during the event)
No AI generated content of any kind.
(regarding completionists)
To be a completionest you must fill all 31 days before August 7th
The completionest form should open on August 1ts and be open until August 7th
(regarding reblogging)
When posting to tumblr please use the tags:
#Fluffy July 2026
The relevant day's tag (e.g. #Fluffyjulyday1, Fluffyjulyday2...)
Nsfw (if relevant) and any possible triggers
You can also tag the blog: @fluffyjuly
Below the cut are a text version of the prompts!
MAIN PROMPTS:
Day 1 - Shooting Stars | "You will be okay”
Day 2 - Candlelight | “You kept this?”
Day 3 - Cuddling | “Come lie down with me”
Day 4 - Fake Dating | “You love me?” "Always have"
Day 5 - Unconditional Love | “I'll never leave you. I promise”
Day 6 - Reading out Loud | “Just one more time”
Day 7 - Happy Tears | “Will you marry me?”
Day 8 - Fireflies/Lightning Bugs | “I looked everywhere for you!”
Day 9 - Blanket Nest | “Stay with me?”
Day 10 - Eating Pancakes Together | “I adore your hands"
Day 11 - Slushie | “Try it”
Day 12 - Oblivious | “Stop staring at me like that or I might fall in love with you”
Day 13 - Childhood Memories | “Pinky promise?”
Day 14 - Accidental Love Confession | “You stayed?”
Day 15 - Sleepy | “Hold still for a moment”
Day 16 - Wings | “You look amazing”
Day 17 - Dancing in the Rain | “Don't worry! It'll be fine”
Day 18 - Beaded Bracelets | “Is it alright if I hold your hand?”
Day 19 - Forehead to Forehead Touch | “I need to see you, now”
Day 20 - Fangs | “Look at me”
Day 21 - Slow Dancing | “You could make me believe in angels”
Day 22 - Meteor Shower | “I bought you flowers”
Day 23 - Fake Hating | “I hate you” "No you don't"
Day 24 - Secret Crush | “You had a crush on me? That's so embarrassing” "...We're married"
Day 25 - Spa Day | “I think I love you”
Day 26 - Rain | “What did I do to deserve you?”
Day 27 - Learning a New Skill | “Let's go home”
Day 28 - Stickers | “That's a stupid nickname”
Day 29 - Touch Starved | “Don't leave me alone again”
Day 30 - Standing up for Them | “We can fix this”
Day 31 - Comfort | “Forever?” "Forever."
ALTERNATE PROMPTS:
(Last year's favorite)
Alt 1: Found Family
Alt 2: Baking
Alt 3: Midnight Snack
Alt 4: Nursing Back to Health
Alt 5: Cuddling for Warmth
Alt 6: "May I have this dance?"
Alt 7: "I really mean it"
Alt 8: "You may be an idiot, but you're MY idiot"
Alt 9: "I can teach you"
Alt 10: "Can I kiss you?"
(Mods' favorite)
Alt 11: Community Garden
Alt 12: Rock Collection
Alt 13: Golden Fields
Alt 14: First Love
Alt 15: Tropical Breeze
Alt 16: "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"
Alt 17: "The sky below is beautiful"
Alt 18: "What did you say?" "I said I love you!"
Alt 19: "I've wanted this forever"
Alt 20: "You're making sandcastles way too seriously"
Pinky Promise | Dean Di Laurentis x Reader | Drabble
You spent your childhood following your gardener dad around the summer houses of the Hamptons. Dean spent his summers wanting to be with you. So when you turn up at his doorstep, an old pinky promise is the perfect reason to say yes.
Content: fluff, little Dean and little Reader, implied tweenage relationship.
For @fluffyjuly Day 13 - Childhood Memories | “Pinky promise?”
And @juniebjonesin picnic prompts “You don’t have to find excuses.”
Masterlist | Book Characters | Dean Di Laurentis
It was so clear in his memories, a hot summer day, his hands sticky with ice cream, his legs were cool and wet from the slip 'n' slide in the sweeping garden of his parent's Hamptons summer house. And there was you.
Snuck in through the fence while your dad mowed the lawn at the front, your dungarees were dirty where you'd rolled down the hill next to the slide and your forehead was damp with sweat.
"When I'm a big boy," Dean had said, his hair long over the summer and hanging in his eyes, "then you can live with me."
"Yeah, for real life?" You'd asked, hope in your little eyes.
He knew about the trailer park, he knew that the dungarees you were wearing belonged to his sister before you. He didn't understand why anyone would live like that when they could have a nice apartment in the city and a nice summer house when it was hot.
"Yeah, for real life, pinky promise."
"Pinky promise." You'd agreed, holding a chubby finger out for him to wrap his own little finger around. You'd shook on it, and then gone back to playing.
And that's all he could think about now, seeing you on his front doorstep.
"Hi Dean," you smiled. That same smile that made your whole face glow, that made your eyes twinkle.
"Hi…"
"Ah you don't remember me," your smile dropped.
"I do! Come here!" He called your name, waving you into his open arms for a hug.
He'd gotten a lot bigger since you'd last seen him, climbing out of the window of his Hamptons summer house with his gangly teenage limbs. You'd spent an entire month together until his mom had found out and fired your dad.
Dean had changed a lot since then, he was broader, manlier, but his floppy blonde hair and big boyish smile we're exactly the same.
"I was in the area and I saw your game and thought I'd stop by and say hi…if that's okay…"
Dean smirked.
"Stopping by and saying hi at almost midnight on a Wednesday?"
"Yes, some of us are not confined by boring concepts like time. Can't I come and see my childhood bestie without the third degree."
"You don't have to make excuses with me, you know that. What do you need?"
"Somewhere to crash?"
"For tonight? Sure."
Dean had been trying to get you into the house since he's opened the door, but you'd remained steadfast on the porch.
"For…a few weeks?"
"A few weeks?"
"Maybe…longer?"
Dean laughed, "you need to live here for a bit?"
"Yeah," you sighed, the weight of your worries heavier than your single duffle of belongings.
"Or course," Dean's smile was soft, "if you can put up with us."
Inside there was the sound of male voices, a video game, a girl laughing. It sounded a lot nicer than the alternative Greyhound back to New York and hostel room.
"Thank you," you let him lead you into the foyer, taking your duffle and your winter coat.
"Hey, I made a promise didn't I." Dean held out his pinky finger and took yours, shaking it gently.
hauntedhouseofhargrove | Fluffy July 2025 - Day 18
Whipped ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Billy Hargrove
Billy Hargrove x Female Reader
Genre(s): Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 2.2k+
Warnings: swearing, some sexual innuendos/situations (no smut), kissing, drunk Billy, underage drinking, yearning...like a lot, mutual pining, mentions of casual sex/hookups
Prompt(s) @fluffyjuly: Nostalgia - "Are you sure you're not a dream?"
Read my other works here! | Join my taglist here!
A/N: I need a yearning Billy. Like rn.
“Billy, you’re shit-faced, come on.”
This wasn’t his first rodeo. He was a Cali boy. He did this. He does this.
He drove to parties, which he knew he’d be drinking heavily at, then he’d stupidly get in his car and swerve along the roads until he made it home, miraculously in one piece. The most he’d done was knock down a neighbor’s mailbox back in California. Thank God he hadn’t gotten on anyone’s bad side or into even worse trouble in Hawkins.
Tonight, however, you were sure he’d end up hurt with the condition he was in.
He insisted on doing multiple rounds of kegstands, trying to uphold his new title as “keg champion” and beat any sucker that dared to challenge his winning streak. And as if that wasn’t enough, he downed several cups of what tasted like liquid death. You only knew this because he insisted on making you some of your own, taking it for himself when your face scrunched up in disgust.
“I got this, doll,” he slurred. “Besides, no one drives my fuckin’ car!”
He hiccuped in between his words. It was going to take far too much convincing to get him to agree.
Wanting to ensure that he made it safely with his car, you were trying to convince him to let you drive him home. God knows he’d be more devastated if anything were to happen to the car instead of himself.
You had become decently close friends in a relatively short matter of time.
You made horrible jokes with him in the back of your math class about your teacher’s droning, yet nasally voice. You’d kick his foot under the desk to wake him up whenever your teacher was walking around the room, doing the same when he was trying to cheat on an exam. Hell, you’d help him cheat sometimes, sliding your paper over ever so slightly. You created tapping patterns with your pencil, indicating answer options and question numbers.
You did make actual efforts to help him, though, feeling proud when he finally understood.
Maybe you did all of that under the pretense of having feelings for him, or maybe you just felt bad for him and wanted to help in any way you could. Both factored in, but you tried to convince yourself it was purely the latter.
The few kisses you two shared on occasion did nothing to help the situation. He wasn’t a “relationship guy,” and it showed more after those kisses; the following day, he would go about as if it never happened. He’d speak to you as he normally would and that was your subtle reminder that you were dealing with Billy Hargrove.
He’d thrown himself sloppily into the driver’s seat, legs hanging out of the car. You were bent in front of him, back starting to ache with how long you had already spent trying to talk him out of sitting behind the wheel.
It was a compromising position. Your face was merely inches away from his, wafting your sweet scent to his dazed senses. Anyone walking by would easily think you two were just another horny couple making out in an area they deemed secluded.
“Fine, if you don’t let me drive you home, I’ll simply take your car keys. I’ll leave your car out here all alone ‘til tomorrow, just so I know you’re sober enough.”
The threat had him whining, hands coming up to grab your hips.
This move wasn’t new. He used it to get what he wanted. He’d put his hands on your hips, warmer than usual, and gently rock you back and forth.
“Doll, jus’ lemme drive.”
“No. I promise, I will never speak to you again. I know this is what you did back in California, but some crazy stuff’s gone down here in these past few years. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
You couldn’t see much, but you saw the way his eyes twinkled up at you with the warm glow of the streetlights. It was like a dog at a shelter realizing it was finally being chosen, finally going home with its person.
That was all it took…not without some teasing, of course.
“Really? You care ‘bout me, babe? Care ‘bout me gettin’ hurt?”
His body started to shift, but he didn’t want to make himself seem so eager. He was ready to throw himself in the trunk if you asked.
Yes, he was drunk. Barely able to walk or keep himself upright. But his brain was still working. He knew you had feelings because he had feelings, just too scared to confront them and be pegged as some girl-whipped asshole.
He loved you. He loved the way you lit up a room whenever you walked in. He loved the way you lifted anyone’s spirits. More often than not, it was his spirits you lifted, but you had that effect on anyone.
Tonight confirmed his love for the way you loved him, the way you chose him.
Oddly enough, it reminded him of his mother just slightly. Loving him was a complex mix of choice and obligation as a mother. But that’s what made you stand out so much. You purely chose him 100% on your own.
If anything, you loved him even more as people advised you against it.
“Yes, Billy, I care about you. And I care about you so much, I don’t want you doing something stupid. I don’t want you doing that if you’re drunk with the off chance of getting horribly hurt.”
He couldn’t help the doe eyes he was making up at you. You consumed him entirely.
You kissed his temple softly as he stood. He swore it threw off his balance tenfold. You slung his arm over your shoulder, your own finding his waist as you walked him around to the passenger seat.
“Gotta trust me with your girl just this once, Bill,” you smiled, pecking his nose.
He wanted to marry you. Drop to one knee right there and pop the question. To be fair, allowing you to drive this car when he’d never done that with anyone was a decent counterpart.
You made sure to be extra wary, not being used to having a car fly with the slightest tap of your foot. You tried your best to make the ride as smooth as possible, not wanting to mess with his baby. You glanced over periodically, creating comfortable small talk over the soft pop-rock you put on.
He didn’t take his eyes off you once, admiring the extra effort you were putting into driving his car.
Getting him into his house was a breeze. You knew if he were to get hurt here, the consequences wouldn’t be super disastrous. He did hit his head rather hard going into his bedroom, wildly swinging himself about as you guided him over to his bed. You grimaced, opting to place a couple of painkillers on his nightstand for the morning.
“Let’s get you outta those mucky clothes.”
You started tugging at the hem of his shirt as he was dozing off.
“Woah! You jus’ wanna get in my pants, hm, doll?”
“Billy,” you laughed. “No. I just wanna get you in bed. Your head’s gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning, so the sooner you get to sleep, the less you’ll feel like shit.”
His shirt was fully off at that point and he was making grabby hands at you. His hands found your waist this time, slotting your body between his thighs. He buried his face into your stomach, nose nudging the area above your navel, his mouth blowing warm air to the area below. It did nothing to quell the fire that was already going, only fueling it more.
“Billy,” your voice was barely above a whisper. “We gotta get you to bed.”
Every fiber of your being was screaming for him. You knew how this would go.
You were sober, your feelings were on the line. It didn’t take you being drunk for your feelings to show. But he, being drunk, was dangerous. His feelings would show now. He would make you feel like the only girl in the world. He would possibly make love to you instead of fucking you like a one-night stand. He would probably even tell you he loved you. But in the morning, he’d leave you alone in his bed, making some shitty excuse of being late for work (he didn’t really care about lateness ever), and he’d tell you to let yourself out.
The scene unfolded in your mind. You had your fair share of one-night stands with some jerks and they’d done just that. Billy couldn’t be any different.
Both of your eyes were glass-like, filled with want and yearning, but you couldn’t. Not when he was drunk.
You mustered all of the strength you had, silently cursing your body for heating up at the feeling of his hot skin under your palms. You pushed yourself out of his grip, rummaging through his drawers to toss him a pair of his basketball shorts.
“Here,” you threw it over your shoulder, smiling when he made an umph sound. “Once you’re changed, I’ll bring a glass of water for you to have in the morning and I’ll head out.”
“You’re not staying?” he sounded disappointed. He was disappointed.
“I wasn’t planning on it, but if you’d like-”
He didn’t even let you finish speaking, rushing out, “Yes, stay.”
You shook your head, taking out clothing for yourself. It blew your mind how little convincing it took.
You slipped out of his room, getting him a glass of water as you’d promised. When you returned, his eyes were closed. You undressed carefully, trying to shuffle about quietly, not to wake him.
“Nice ass,” he snickered.
“Billy!”
You flung your bra at him once you’d slipped it off from under a very flowy muscle tank you’d found in his drawers. He was pleased, seeing you partially naked, the only thing covering your body being his clothes. He wanted to see you like this all the time.
You jumped over him, snuggling yourself into the spot between him and his wall.
“Ugh, why’re you near the wall?”
“It’s comfier. Plus, if you gotta throw up, you just roll over and throw up that way,” you giggled as his arm came down to your waist.
He pulled your body into his, maneuvering you around so you were facing him. His breath smelled of alcohol still, the mouthwash you’d forced past his lips earlier not doing much. He looked down at you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen. You felt it. You felt his love. If only he weren’t drunk.
You sat up a bit, leaning over him to flick his lamp off. He was delighted by the way your boobs basically attacked his face as you did so. You settled back into your spot, kissing his cheek before getting under the covers.
“Are you sure you’re not a dream?”
You could still see his sharp features. They were outlined by the light hue of the moonlight peeking through his window.
“Billy,” you whispered, a small smile breaking out on your lips.
He hummed, his face inching closer to yours. He was caging you in. You couldn’t run this time.
“You’re drunk, Billy. Really drunk.”
“Drunk enough to still know I fuckin’ love you, Y/N.”
The confession had both of you frozen in place.
You found his eyes in the dim lighting of the moonlight. They were full of emotion. You couldn’t pinpoint with what exactly, but they were full to the brim.
“You don’t mean that, Billy. You’re saying this now because you’re drunk. All those times you’ve kissed me sober and gone about things normally afterward speak against this, Billy.”
He couldn’t talk. He actually felt like he had to throw up now.
“I do love you,” he whispered, eyes flickering back and forth between both of yours.
“I love you, Billy! I do! I’m not scared to admit it! If you really love me, you’ll tell me when you’re sober. Not when you’re plastered off your ass.”
His lips tingled, craving to feel yours melt into his. Your body was tense as he held you again, desperate just to get an inch of you.
“Please.”
He’d never begged before. He was never so desperate for another being. Never ever.
You couldn’t keep it up anymore. You needed him just as bad as he needed you.
You caved when he flopped onto his back. You propped yourself onto your elbow, your shaky hand coming up to his face. You’d never been scared to kiss him before. Why were you so scared now?
You didn’t hold back, pressing a searing kiss to his puffed lips. They were tender, softer than any previous time you’d kissed him. They were hot. Must’ve been all the alcohol or him chewing on his lip nonstop. You couldn’t get enough of him, but you knew this was where you’d draw the line for the night.
That was rather hard to stick to as he mimicked your stance, rolling you onto your back. The hand of the arm he used to keep himself wedged found your hair, the other tracing delicate patterns into your side.
He was whipped. And he was afraid there was no going back.
Tim’s lips are soft. This thought bounces around Kon’s head, echoing as Tim tugs him closer by the waist, breaths mixing until thunder crackles through the sky.
Tim groans, dropping his head onto Kon’s shoulder. “Superboy.” There’s a warning in his voice, and Kon smiles at it. “Please tell me you did not time this with a rain storm.”
“Ok,” Kon chirps, kissing the top of Tim’s head. Tim tries pushing his head for that. “I didn't time this amazing outing with a rain storm.”
“I timed it—” Tim’s head lifts at this, and Kon soothes his agitation with a hand to his cheek, cupping Tim’s face as he kisses him one more time— “so we can have fun!”
Tim’s rebuttal is an instant one, and Kon pouts at it. “You are going to get me sick.”
“I’m not going to get you sick! A little bit of rain don’t hurt nobody.”
“SB, babe, I love you.” Tim grabs his hand, squeezing as if that will make the words go through Kon’s head more clearly. Sadly, Kon’s head is like a rock, and all it does is slide off onto the ground like the rain they’re going to be trapped in. “But you’re Kryptonian. You could stay out here for the whole storm and not be affected.”
Kon lifts Tim in his arms, determined to make him see Kon’s plan here. He sways them, smiling cheekily when Tim instinctively wraps his legs around Kon for support, his hands holding onto his shoulders.
“You mean you don’t want to dance in the rain with me?” Kon pouts, maintaining eye contact with Tim even as he tries to look away. The sky starts sprinkling, small droplets that feel refreshing and cool against their heated skins.
He knows he wins when Tim sighs, a small noise that sounds more like an exhale, but Kon can see how Tim’s mouth twitches. “Fine, but if I get sick, I’m telling Batman on you.”
Kon sputters. “What?! Why would—”
Tim kisses him, laughing even when the rain turns into a proper stream, flattening his hair and sliding down his cheek and neck. Tim’s laugh is beautiful when it’s like this, unfiltered and loud. It makes him look soft, the way his nose scrunches as if to restrain the noise, only succeeding in making him snort instead, his head tilted to the side as if to hide away.
Kon guides his face back and kisses the giggles away, smiling as he swings them in a circle, twirling in a way that has Tim beaming as he calls him an idiot.
Now that Fluffy July is over, I thought that it would be a good idea to compile a list of every day together. Specifically by storyline or theme order, for easy reading if a specific story or concept takes your fancy.
If you'd like to read them in order of prompt list, you can start here on AO3.
Original prompt list by @fluffyjuly
Season 2 Alternative Ending
A what if ending, if the Metatron never invited Aziraphale to take the position of Supreme Archangel but Crowley still confessed.
Oblivious . “You love me?” "Always have" . Slow Dancing . Rain . "Can I Kiss You?"
South Downs Vacation
Post Armageddon, Crowley and Aziraphale take a vacation to the South Downs before continuing their lives.
Unconditional love . Wings . Meteor Shower
Historical Order
All prompts that fit in their timeline, ordered by earliest date to pre-book/show time.
Secret Crush . Fireflies . Fangs . Eating Crepes Together . "You May Be An Idiot, but You're MY idiot" . Forehead To Forehead Touches . Accidental Love Confessions . Spa Day . Ice Cream
Generic Placement
Everything else that can be read for generic fluffy feelings, all post S1 but pre S2.
Shooting Stars . Candlelight . Cuddling . Reading Out Loud . "What did you say?" "I said I love you!" . Blanket Nest . Found Family . Sleepy . Dancing In The Rain . Beaded Bracelets . Fake Hating . Learning a New Skill . Touched Starved . Comfort
A Murder Drones fanfiction for @fluffyjuly event Fluffy July 2026 day 20 fangs featuring my Nuzi fankid Tess.
Uzi Doorman take notes that her daughter Tess is having a bit of N nature due to Tess biting on Uzi with her cute small fangs like a tiny dog biting on a person and holding on.
A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction for @fluffyjuly event Fluffy July 2026 day 30 “We can fix this.”
At the Agreste home, Gabe and Emily were rough playing and they end up causing a vase to fall and break on the ground. Their father Adrien came over to see what caused the crush and both Gabe and Emily quickly point at each other before Adrien told the kids, “Listen, we can fix this.” and he quickly use some glue to repair the vase before Marinette gets home.
My Fluffy July 2025 contribution for the prompt : Cuddling for Warmth.
I’m sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language. I hope you like it.
Summary : Ichigo slowly opened his eyes. He glanced at the clock. Two a.m. He turned toward the other side of the bed and froze. Rukia lay beside him, eyes closed, perfectly peaceful as if she hadd been asleep for hours.
Disclaimer : Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.
@fluffyjuly
AO3 / FF.NET
Ichigo slowly opened his eyes. He glanced at the clock. Two a.m. He groaned. Barely an hour of sleep. He and Rukia had been on patrol late into the night and he was exhausted. The moment they returned, he had crashed onto his bed and passed out. But apparently, the universe had only allowed him one measly hour of rest.
He turned toward the other side of the bed and froze. Rukia lay beside him, eyes closed, perfectly peaceful as if she hadd been asleep for hours. What is she doing in my bed ? He thought, caught off guard. Should I wake her up ? Or go sleep on the couch ?
“You’re making too much noise,” she said suddenly, eyes still shut.
Ichigo jolted. He had not expected her to be awake.
“I wasn’t even moving,” he muttered under his breath.
He was frozen. Since spotting her so close, he had not been able to move a muscle.
“I can hear you thinking,” she added. “It’s keeping me awake.”
He rolled his eyes, exasperated. Of course she had to stay unbothered, even in a situation she clearly caused herself.
“And can I ask why you’re in my bed ?” He said, mildly annoyed.
She opened her eyes, equally annoyed that she had to explain.
“I was cold. With your ridiculous habit of always leaving the window open, I could feel the draft all the way in the closet, even with the doors shut.”
She’s exaggerating, he thought. Sure, nights were cool, but it was not that cold. Then he frowned, suddenly struck by a realization.
“Wait… I thought your Bankai was ice-based ?”
Rukia shot him a sharp look, offended.
“That has nothing to do with it. My powers don’t stop my body from feeling cold. Now lie down. I want to sleep and you’re as warm as a radiator.”
Ichigo sighed and lay back down without arguing. He was far too tired to fight. Rukia immediately slid closer and nestled against him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her breath against his collarbone had the softness of a winter breeze. Cold, yet strangely calming. It was not comfortable or uncomfortable. It was Rukia and that was enough.
“You’re warm,” she murmured sleepily. “It feels nice.”
“I’m not a radiator,” he grumbled.
She did not reply. Ichigo turned his head slightly toward her. She was fast asleep. He closed his eyes again, trying to relax and fall back into sleep. They had been close before, but sharing a bed, even like this, made his heart race in quiet, unfamiliar ways. After a long while, warmed by her presence and the silence itself, he drifted off.
When he woke up a few hours later, Rukia was still curled up in his arms, like she had always belonged there.
