#which is very whumpy

[another-whump-sideblog]

I'm getting whumperflies from my textbook's chapter on behaviorism. The cold, calculated way it talks about behaviors completely separate from the person doing them and the emphasis on reinforcement and punishment are just so very whumpy. Generally it uses attention as an example of reinforcement, which leads to stuff like "it's effective to avoid eye contact and conversation while restraining a patient so that misbehaving isn't unintentionally reinforced through attention." Like that's one of the whumpiest things I've ever read and it's in a psychology textbook. Imagine a whumper just completely ceasing any eye contact or conversation while Whumpee is being punished because attention is a reinforcer

Behaviorism is so fucked up

[daniwib]

I feel like doing some writing!

Opens doc. Checks tumblr. Writes two lines. Checks discord. Writes one line. Oh wait I need to check something. Searches if you can feel a pulse in a lion's leg. Gets distracted reading a very interesting blog about lion pride dynamics and the individuality of roars. Scraps the line about the pulse cos no answer fast too hard distraction bad. Wrote a whole paragraph, woohoo! That deserves a cup of coffee as a reward. I may as well put a load of laundry on while the kettle is boiling, my sheets need washing. Oh wait I was going to buy my parents new sheets and it's prime day soon and but I need to confirm what size Dad's doona is. Calls Mum. Chats for half an hour. Finds suitable sheets and puts into cart ready for the sale. Reboils kettle and actually makes a cup of coffee. Sits at keyboard and cracks knuckles. Right, let's write! Oh shit it's time for the school run. And I forgot to hang the washing out.

[haich-slash-cee]

In one of my regular zoom meetups, there's one person whose non-video image is set to a.... a rather whumpy cartoon illustration. It's a cool, stylish, presumed fan drawing of video game characters, on its own.

It's also kind of whumpy.

Like I would argue for the "this is whumpy, right?" side of the debate, about this drawing.

So anyway I'm just sitting there, somewhat distracted by this image that pops up whenever the person is off-camera. Very aware that I am specifically distracted by the whump, in public (sort of), on a casual zoom call.

(Is this the experience that other people talk about, when they refer to being distracted by images of idk hot people. Which my variation of being a-spec does not usually deal with. The number of times people near me have been like "oh my god, I was so distracted by that person, they were so hot, I could barely keep it together" and I'm like "huh? what?" Anyway, being distracted by this whumpy cartoon drawing is apparently what I experience instead.)

[benevolenterrancy]

Dunno what happened with that request for a sickfic someone posted a few months ago, but I for one would enjoy seeing Jin Guangyao taking care of someone else: Xue Yang, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang... whoever floats your boat. If it's ok with you, of course.

Currently, Meng Yao’s office was intolerably full, which was to say there was more than just himself in it. One of those occupants happened to be Nie Huaisang, and it could be safely said that it was impossible to mistake a room that held Nie Huaisang for one that didn't. The other occupant was Nie Mingjue which might not normally be a problem except that, right now, his sect leader was inarguably ill. Well, not inarguably, he supposed, because Nie Mingjue was certainly arguing it. Loudly. With Nie Huaisang. While Meng Yao was trying to work. Fortunately Meng Yao was used to resolving problems on his own.

*cracks knuckles* there we go anon, something quick and light-hearted!

[whump-me]

They tied your wrists and ankles, gagged you with a piece of thick and foul-tasting fabric, and tossed you in the back of a box truck. It’s completely dark, except for a thin line of light under the back doors. The cold metal floor, caked with years’ worth of dirt, is gritty under your cheek. The truck rumbles to life under you. You try to sit up, but every time the truck hits a bump or takes a turn too sharply, you’re flung to the floor again. Eventually you give up and stay there, letting out a grunt of pain every time the truck’s sharp movements slam you against the wall.

The worst part isn’t the darkness, or the taste of the gag in your mouth, or the bruises you know you’ll have by the time you reach your destination. The worst part is that you know why they took you. And you know that when you get to where you ‘re going, things are going to get much worse.

These are the last moments of peace you’ll have for a long time. You close your eyes, grit your teeth as you hit another bump, and resolve to make the most of them.

[whmp]

i gotta admit, dead by daylight is a whump game through and through. not only because of the lore, gameplay and just the general vibe, but also because playing it is a very harrowing form of torture.

i need to delve deep into ao3 for some content.

[siren-of-agony]

You'd all love Tatort Saarbrücken

[towerofluin]

I'm working on sbi whumptober and I'm worried I'm being too ambitious. I've got two comics done, another one sketched out and two more short ones planned, plus some individual pieces that I want to do on top of that. the comic I'm on now is the most complex and I'm trying to not burn myself out but I'm also pushing to get it done and eugh

[windfighter]

A message for love

Prompt: Fear of the unknown

------

Izumi stared at the ceiling. Her phone was on her stomach, the latest text message from Junpei on the screen.

We should go to the new café some day!

It was a joke by now. Junpei would suggest something, Izumi would suggest the whole group should go, and sometimes they did. The ceiling seemed to judge her. She put her hand over the phone.

Why, she asked herself. She gripped the phone. I know what he means. What he wants.

Junpei made her feel warm inside. He was safety in a sea of uncertainty, a rock in an ever-changing world. Izumi liked when things changed, when no day was like the one before. It made her feel alive, free.

She looked at the message again. The screen was bright in the otherwise dark room. A piercing green that cut into her very soul. Judging her, just as the ceiling did. Her finger hovered over the I-key, her hand trembled.

I’m sure everyone would love that, she considered writing. Just like every time. Because Junpei didn’t change, Izumi’s friendship with Junpei couldn’t change. But changes were good.

Her finger moved to the Y-key. She took a shaky breath. What would happen if she said yes? If she took that step that Junpei had been waiting for, that she always pretended she didn’t see? Would they fall apart? Would Junpei realize she wasn’t all he thought she was?

Yes, she wrote. I would love that.

She hesitated. Closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Pressed send and turned the phone off. Her body was cold, frozen, terrified. Would her answer change anything?

Or was she scared that it wouldn’t?

[goat-boy-sounds]

preparing for whumpuary

[diancite]

feels good to be in enough of a kick to properly plan out some stories that have been swimming in my head for ages.

[lilgynt]

oh my god my mom made fun of me when i couldn’t walk

and i had a broken foot

[sundrop-writes]

Protective

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader

Summary:

During his first full moon, Isaac needs to think of something to ground him - to keep his newfound powers from getting out of control. Derek suggests that he use anger, and he knows that Scott grounds himself with his love for Allison.

Isaac finds something in between - thinking of the anger he feels when you get hurt.

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 9.

Word Count: 2,300

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: canon level violence - mentions of Isaac, Erica, and Boyd having to be chained up on the full moon (to avoid hurting themselves and others), mentions of Isaac's abusive father (somewhat graphic descriptions of the abuse that Isaac experienced); Isaac has a self deprecating inner monologue because of the psychological effects of his father's abuse; mentions of Isaac being injured by his father's abuse; the reader also has an abusive father and it's a point on which they related and bonded (and how they became such close friends); at one point the reader describes her abuse as being 'not as bad' as Isaac's abuse (but that is psychological trauma speaking); mentions of the reader experiencing physical and emotional abuse; reader is described as 'pretty girl' at one point in the fic (again, this is very self indulgent); Isaac has a crush on the reader but has never voiced it (it's implied that the reader feels the same way); Isaac and the reader exchange friendly physical affection; emotional angst - Isaac feels powerless for not being able to stop the reader's abuse; I think that's it for this short fic? The themes are on the darker side, but it comes from a personal place for me.

A/N: If you've been following me for any amount of time, then you know I have a thing for sad, abused characters. If you have read my Ellie fic 'My Heart Is The Worst Kind of Weapon' - then you would know why. Isaac is the kind of character I immediately connect to for deeply personal reasons, so watching the entirety of Teen Wolf through for the first time, I couldn't resist writing a fic about him. There will likely be more to come about him, but for now - here is this deeply self indulgent moment inspired by Season 2, Episode 9. If you don't relate to this, I hope you can enjoy it as a distant whumpy fiction, and if you can relate to it - I hope that Isaac can bring you some comfort like he has for me. Much love, happy reading.

...

While the chains rattled against the abandoned subway car and Isaac tried to ignore Erica’s groans of pain from having several large bolts bored into her head, he couldn’t help the question that was rattling around inside of him. 

“How do you do it?” Isaac asked Derek as he arranged the chains around his limbs. He was trying to push down the sickly familiarity of it - being restrained. He was trying to tell himself that it actually was for his own good this time, not just a sick punishment given to him by a powerless, unhinged old man. “How do you keep it under control?” 

“You have to find an anchor.” Derek told him, firm, determined. 

It was nice to focus on the conversation instead of the anxiety rising in his chest, so Isaac pressed on. 

“An anchor?” He questioned, unsure what Derek meant. “Like what?” 

“Yeah. Something else for you to focus on. For me it's anger.” Derek paused. “But it's not like that for everyone.” 

It was immediately obvious to Isaac who Derek was speaking of. 

“Scott.” 

He had Allison. It was some dreamy romantic bullshit - using his love for his girlfriend to keep from wolfing out. But apparently, it worked well for him. 

Derek gave a subtle nod. 

Isaac didn’t have anything like that. He didn’t have some cheesy romance to fall back onto. He didn’t have someone declaring a love for him so openly - because he wasn’t worth loving. Even with his father gone, the world had made it very clear that he was just a piece of shit stuck to the bottom of someone’s shoe - a problem being passed around that nobody could seem to solve. 

“It just has to be something strong enough to keep your mind present. A strong feeling you can hold onto. Anger, love, resentment, regret, rage. Just find something that works for you.” 

Isaac nodded, and Derek went to check that Erica and Boyd were secure as the moonlight came to its full brightness. 

… 

It got Isaac thinking about you. 

You were probably the one person in his life who didn’t think he was a problem. The one person in his life who loved him, even if you didn’t say it out loud. 

He had felt all of those things - anger, love, resentment, regret, rage - the last time he had been with you. When he had been sitting in your bathroom, perched on the closed toilet seat lid after an argument with his father. Naturally, the argument had ended with Isaac having a black eye, and a large cut on his cheek from his father's ring colliding with his face. 

You were the only person he ever went to. No matter how bad things got, you were the only person he ever told. You were the only person who ever understood. Isaac had found out the hard way that your own father was much the same as his. On the first day of freshman year, he had seen you wearing a sweater when it had been a balmy, sunny day, and he had volunteered to be lab partners with you - partially to get closer to a pretty girl and partially because a gnawing feeling was going off in his stomach. 

Even back then - even when he was scrawny and powerless, his instinct to protect you had still been so strong. Even if all he could offer you was a shoulder to cry on and the chocolate bar out of his lunch, he looked at you and he felt the world turning on the simple hope that he could make your day just a bit better. Because he knew, even without words, by the tiredness in your eyes - that you suffered like he did. And he wanted so badly to make it better. 

When the two of you were doing an introductory experiment of baking soda and vinegar to cause the classic foaming volcanic reaction, the rubber gloves you had been wearing caused your sleeve to ride up, revealing a menacing purple bruise on your wrist. Isaac spotted it instantly, and when you locked eyes with him, he held nothing but deep understanding there - not shock or even pity. Nothing but deep understanding and warmth. 

He held your hand under the table for the rest of class, and you had never wanted to pull away. You felt a unique kind of mourning when the bell rang and you had to part ways. 

At lunch that day, you found him under the bleachers by the lacrosse field. Without so much as a word, only a cursory glance around to make sure that nobody else was watching, he pulled up his shirt, revealing an array of horrifying bruises to you - some purplish, some green, some faded yellow - all collected from different points throughout the summer. The time when he had been trapped at home with his father, having nowhere else to go as the man got more aggravated with his presence. 

You ran a gentle touch along the wounds - the most gentle touch he had been greeted with since his mother's death, something that easily brought him to tears. And from that moment on, the two of you had a silent understanding. You spent the rest of the lunch hour exchanging ‘war stories’ and laughing with a tainted dark humor about your separate twisted patriarchs. And the next time he was bloodied and bruised, he texted you to meet him under the bleachers in that same spot, and you didn’t hesitate to rush out of bed at three in the morning to get to him. 

It became a sacred place for the two of you to escape to when you needed it. 

The two of you became a sacred comfort to each other - knowing that there was little escape in telling the police or a guidance counselor, because you had nowhere else to go. 

Today, when Isaac called you, you found your house luckily empty. Your mother and your father were away visiting relatives in another state, so when Isaac told you that he needed you, you texted him the all clear to come over to your house for a reprieve. He was lucky to be able to spend the night somewhere else - to get to sleep in your bed, cuddled up close to you for comfort, without fear. 

He tried not to wince with pain as you dabbed disinfectant on the large cut across his cheek. He hated seeing you flinch with empathy every time his expression wavered even slightly. He could handle the pain. He could be better than this. 

“Isaac.” You sighed his name pitifully, clearly on the edge of tears. 

Both of you knew the thoughts that were pulsing thickly through your head, even without you having to speak them. 

Isaac didn’t deserve this. You wanted to hurt his father in return. You wished you could take away his pain, you wanted to help him escape from it. 

It was a ‘wishful thinking’ conversation that the two of you had dozens of times before. It always ended with you both more upset than when it started, so you swallowed up those thoughts now. But Isaac knew them too well, written across your face and swollen on your lips like the tears brimming your pretty eyes. 

You put down the cotton ball you had been using and turned your back to him, poorly hiding your crying as you stiffly wiped off your cheeks. 

“What do you want me to say?” He replied, hating that this whole thing had to upset you. “You know how it is.” 

To an extent, you didn't. Your father was a screamer. He yelled loud enough to shake the walls, but he rarely escalated to physical violence. You found that you were lucky if you escaped a fight with death threats and tears rather than having hands laid on you. Isaac came to school with fresh bruises every other week - you had to feel that he was worse off than you were. 

“We should just go.” You said, feeling bold in your suggestion. It felt obvious - escaping. “We should just run away. Get the hell away from all this.” 

You whipped back around, still feeling a terrible twinge of pain and sadness inside you at the bruising across his face, the fact that his cheek was definitely swelling up now. 

Isaac frowned. It was a nice dream, and he hated to be the one to dash right through it. 

“You know we can't do that.” Isaac sighed. Ever the realist. Of course. “Where the hell would we even go? With what money? No offense, but the couple hundred dollars you have saved up from babysitting isn't gonna get us anywhere.” 

“It's over fifteen-hundred.” You told him honestly. 

It was a nest egg that you had been sitting on since middle school, hoping to escape your father and never look back. When you met Isaac, you had another thing anchoring you to Beacon Hills, keeping you from buying the bus ticket you had always wanted. 

“But you're right. That'll get us - what? A couple of nights at a motel?” You let out a harsh, dry laugh. Trying to relieve some of the tension. “Well… we could go on a vacation? Escape for a few days?” You suggested, sounding hopeful. 

The idea of spending time alone with Isaac - a getaway where the two of you could pretend none of it was happening, even for a few days - it sounded like paradise. 

Isaac’s mind went to a dream-like vision - having you alone in a hotel room. A bed just for the two of you. Even just getting the chance to sleep peacefully with you, cuddle you, it sounded like a dream. 

He had to pull himself back before his mind went to places a friend shouldn’t stray. 

“A last hurrah before my dad kills me for running away on him.” Isaac sighed. 

The consequences of it would be inevitable. The two of you would have to come back home eventually. He knew that your father would likely feel much the same. He would never forgive himself if you ended up bruised and battered because of something he had encouraged you to do. 

You let out a sob then - the thought of Isaac dying by his father's hands had been all too real to you at times. A horror you imagined in your mind over and over again, especially after times he had come to you with half his torso nearly bruised black and he had been unable to move properly for days. His father was a monster, and you didn’t doubt that he would be capable of murder. 

Isaac rushed to stand up, and pulled you into a hug. His warmth, his arms surrounding you tightly - it was the only place you ever felt safe. You eagerly gripped him back, missing the wince he let out when you squeezed a bit too hard over one of his bruised ribs. But no - he would never fault you for holding onto him too tightly. 

Holding you like this - he felt like he had the world in his arms. Something tight in his chest, telling him that if anything ever happened to you, he would become the same kind of monster that his father was. But in the same way any threat to you made him boil over with rage - you made him gentle. You made him soft and loving. You were the only person in the world who made him feel okay to weep. 

He kissed the top of your head, not a stranger to comforting you with affection even though the two of you remained strictly as ‘friends’. As much as he yearned for more - you were a life vest while he was drowning and he wouldn't risk fucking that up just to kiss you and call you his girlfriend. He wouldn't throw any messy feelings into the mix. 

“It'll be okay.” He told you. 

Coming from his lips, you had to believe it. 

“Thank you, Isaac.” You sniffled. And then, something hit you. “You came over here for my help, and now you’re comforting me.” You let out another dry chuckle, clearly resisting the urge to scold yourself. 

“This is helping.” He told you, hugging you tighter. “This always helps.” He said the last part quieter, a dropped whisper that you could barely hear. 

It was a truth he was afraid to confront just yet. 

… 

But in the present, it was a truth that was helping him more than anything. 

Isaac hadn't spoken to you since he had gotten the Bite. He had been terrified of hurting you somehow. The last thing he ever wanted was to become the thing that you feared. It would have been his worst nightmare to be the one to make you cower in a corner and cry rather than to be the one giving you comfort from it. 

As the moon came to a full wane overhead, and the mighty rage and power pulsed through his veins, Isaac thought of you. He thought of using that power to tear apart anybody who had ever hurt you - to finally free you from those tears. He thought of giving you the same relief he had felt when his father died. He thought of his love for you, even if it was a silent love that he had never gotten the chance to voice. 

“I see you found your anchor.” Derek remarked to Isaac later, after he had gotten Erica and Boyd back in their chains, tightening Isaac’s binds once again, if only as a precaution. 

“I did.” 

Derek looked at him with intrigue, as if waiting for him to explain. 

“Well, you said that you use anger. And Scott uses love.” Isaac told him. “I guess that mine is… some combination of both.” 

“Protectiveness.” Derek explained. “That's what wolves call it.”

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, and I wrote this to be a closed off story/its own little moment inspired by the show. This is a complete story, however, if there is enough interest, I might turn this concept into a longer oneshot and expand on the idea. It would not be me writing a 'part 2' of this, it would be me using this concept and writing a longer oneshot. I do have a personal vested interest in writing about powerful characters defeating abusers, but currently I don't have the time to turn this into something longer, so this is all I wrote. Please do not harass me about making this longer or posting something more, and if you're going to leave a comment asking for a continuation, please also tell me what you liked about this current story. Though I have something else in mind, I do consider this to be a completed story on its own.

[benevolenterrancy]

*glances at svsss' vol 4 worth of extras, aka 'the whump and smut pile'* you haven't seen anything yet

You guys are seriously taking an axe to my self-control;;; I'm trying to make this series last longer than a single month!! I'm trying to savour things!!! I'm trying to read something else and give the series a bit of breathing room before I pick up the last book but I want the "whump and smut pile" I want that so much I feel like a dog that's getting a treat waved in front of its face .·´¯`(；´д｀)´¯`·.

[alpaca-clouds]

One thing about Halsin

I am currently thinking way too much about Halsin, because... Again, I love this dude. He just is one of the most wholesome of your companions and... I did not know I needed a hunky, hairy elf, but apparently I needed a hunky, hairy elf.

But writing a bit more about him, I also have to say, that I also love him for the whumpy and angsty stories you can write for him. Given all we know, there is quite a lot of whumpy material in his past. Be it with him and the drows, or be it just the fact that he has already lost so much in his life.

(Also, yes, I am still going with: He is a werebear. Might write something about that later.)

Something I cannot help but think about, though, is... Well, look, I am not better than y'all. I am sexualizing the hell out of this man. Because... I mean... Just look at him! I am a simple man, and I just really would like to climb this mountain, you know?

But I cannot help but also think about how - if the character was real - he would feel about it. Because I can see that within the universe... Well, he is exotic. There are not a lot of hunky, hairy elves around. And while within elven society he would probably be seen as ugly (because usually elven societies do like androgynous looks - and DnD is not really different in that regard), he would also probably be seen as exotic enough that quite a few people would go: "But it's a kink!"

Especially given the fact that folks at the Sword Coast are generally quite liberal when it comes to sleeping around, I can kinda see a lot of folks just wanting to climb that mountain once, if you get my drift.

So I can see him both getting flirted with a lot - and sexually harassed as well. And given how he talks about his Underdark experience for the most part (as if it was not traumatizing at all), I think he would try to brush it off. But that does not mean, it is not hurting him, right?

Especially as he is yearning for a closer connection. Or has been for a long while before the curse at least. He wants a partner (or more).

And it might be I am projecting a bit much of book!Geralt onto him there, who is very much in a similar position (because he is a Witcher folks wanna bang him, but he wants a relationship and family, which nobody wants to have with a witcher).

And man, folks. Thinking about this just makes me want to hug this big bear of a man.

[flufftober]

🌸🍀 Hello and welcome to our (first) Flufftober Spring Edition 🌸🍀

SURPRISE 😁

Yes, we've decided that one month of the year simply isn't enough anymore! So 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 of them neutral, some very much sping-themed.

How does this work?

Pretty much like our regular Flufftober event in October, so you'll find all the common rules and info below the cut. Contrary to the big event though, this one here only runs for two weeks instead of the entire month, and we set the date from March 11th to March 24th! So prompt one is NOT supposed to be posted on March 1st but instead on March 11th! Prompt two is for March 12th, prompt 3 for March 13th, and so on...

Since this is a smaller prompt list, you also won't find any prompt extras to switch these out with, sorry. Maaaybe if this event is a success, we'll think about changing that in upcoming years 😉

Below the cut, you'll find all our rules, posting info, and all the prompts in writing. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us asks 🥰

Friends, we so hope you love this surprise and that the prompts may inspire a lot of fluffy creations! We wish you a great start to the new year and as always

Happy Creating 🥳

Standard Blog Rules & FAQ

(Due to previous asks, we made sure to add more points to this section - while they're not new rules, they're new to this list, so you'll find them colored green)

No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, (grand)parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship. No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It's aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that has grey areas, the rule is this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalities of the world/society/times your characters live in.

No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.

Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.

There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.

In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gif sets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…). If you would like to create a podfic, the fic you're using does not have to be new - your creation will be new!

You can mix and mash different mediums however you like, be it within one prompt or on different days.

While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉 that, of course, doesn't mean you can't combine it with angsty/whumpy prompts - hurt/comfort is absolutely welcome!

You can start creating as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.

If you post early, we will schedule your post for the correct day; if you use multiple prompts in one creation, we will post on the earliest day you used.

You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.

You can replace as many original prompts as you like with our prompt extras; you can also combine them with the original prompts or create for them in addition, that's completely up to you.

It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts.

You do not have to stick to one character, ship, or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.

The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)

Original works as well as OCs in fandoms are welcome! But please make sure to mark these clearly, either in the tags or the post itself. We're not familiar with all fandoms (though we're definitely learning a lot!), so we're not always sure what might be an OC and what might be such an unknown side character not even Google can find them...

Reader insert fics (for example "character x reader") as well as RPFs are absolutely allowed.

Other languages are also welcome - just make sure to clearly mark the day and fandom so that we can still easily reblog.

This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.

Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months or years later.

All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.

Posting

Posting to tumblr

Please use the tag #fluffspring2024 Make sure there is NO SPACE between fluff and spring and 2024! We will NOT be checking other variations of this tag!

Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also mention us with @flufftober in your post

We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late

If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post

To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #fluffspring2024 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]

Posting to ao3

You can add your creation to the collection Flufftober Spring Edition 2024 (flufftober_spring_edition_2024)

Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...

Prompts

1. New Beginnings

2. Banter, Joking, Fun

3. Spring Cleaning

4. “Let me take care of you.”

5. Honey & Bees

6. Sharing a Blanket

7. Giving someone a Present

8. Breakfast in Bed

9. Daisies

10. Iced Beverage

11. Enjoying the Fresh Air

12. Claiming, Clingy, Possessive

13. “It’s still too cold.” - “No, it’s not.”

14. Putting down Roots