#(explodes into a ball of confetti)

[seeping-sunlight]

Here’s something happy: What are your favourite things about Sally?

Sorry for the delayed response! I made a mental note to get back to this but forgot ૮-ﻌ -"ა

Hoooooooo boy where do I begin.........

I wanna start with her voice because ever since i was a kid I remember being infatuated with how she spoke and sang. Catherine O'Hara does a beautiful job with her acting and singing and i can find myself lulled by her voice

It's also due in part by how independent and loving Sally is. She stands her ground even in the face of an adversary but yet never genuinely hates or harms anybody (despite maybeeee Oogie Boogie but hey its Oogie lmfao). And even when people dont listen to her, she's crafty enough to try and sway her chances anyway. Honestly her craftiness is so lovely too. The way she just hides shit just so she can potentially use it to get her way is such a good character trait like she really just be causing shit!!!

And like. I'm always a fan of overlooked women in media and god is Sally one. Sally was correct about everything, tried to help Jack get out of his delusions of grandeur, and tried to save Sandy Claws when nobody else would. And yet she gets zero praise! The only two people who praise her are Sandy Claws himself and Jack, her deeds often go unnoticed. Doesn't help that she's clearly unhappy with her life (that "I know how you feel..." in the beginning after Jack's Lament stabs my heart out yowchhh). She wants to be more, but people won't see her as more. And yet she still pushes forward and continues in spite of that. I think that's incredibly powerful

And okay, she's also really cute. Her little odd gait when walking, her little scowls and devious smiles, the way she plays with her hands when nervous, she's so cute I fear I'll have a heart attack just thinking about it. I love weird oddball characters like her

Okay I'm gushing a lot I am going to stop it there but oh my goddd

[skaruresonic]

On a Sunday fanart? OMG, that's so awesome! I love it!

Credit to blurrydawgo! Go check them out!

[dashboarddiaries]

GUESS WHAT?

it's the 10 YEAR anniversary of the most amazing event EVER! *explodes like a confetti cannon*

that's right, tumbeasts, Dashcon happened TEN YEARS ago!!!!!

if you're new here and don't know what that is, LET ME LEARN YOU A THING:

Dashcon was an event just for US. for the freaks, the weirdos, the fangirls. it had cosplayers and fanfic writers and a BALLPIT. And--

[a comical *thunk* as lauren hits her imposter over the head with a shovel]

jesus, guys, sorry about that. something went wrong with my hybrid cloning/time machine.

ANYWAY. Dashcon happened 10 years ago this weekend and @overchers and I have episodes for this very occasion!

we talked to two brave Tumblr employees who were there:

and who also had amazing pictures to share, that we posted on the internet for the very first time!

and THEN we talked to Lochlan, the Tumblr user who started it all:

(transcripts for those episodes here and here)

so we've got dashcon coverage from both sides! get the inside scoop and relive the glory days.

[strangerofartisticvalue]

JFJDKFCUSKCIAJZJCOECUSUAJCICHDCUC MY BOYSSSSSSSSS THEY LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL EEEEEESEEEEEJDHEHEHFLSJ THANK YOU SO MUCH CONFETTI

@strangerofartisticvalue BOO! I WAS YOUR SANTA!!!!

I REALLy tried my best, and i hope I captured them accurately! These two sillies were super fun to draw 🫶🫶🫶 HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!!

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [4]

・❥ A friend revealed, and warm feelings.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

x: pronouns are she/her. no use of y/n.

xx: decided to change the saving fem!reader to its AO3 title, so all parts of this fic have been updated for this change as well!

~6.8k words

warnings: depictions of blood/injury

“Did I miss anything?” 

Those were the first words the King of Hell had spoken atop the large patio, as you stood in awe, battered, with dust and debris sticking to your body. You blinked, frozen in place as your eyes scanned over the pearlescent man’s figure, who grinned charmingly across from you. 

He leaned lazily against the gold railing, now partially destroyed from the small explosions that had peppered the front of the hotel. The screams and snarls from below were all but silenced now, except for one or two stragglers who could be seen making a run for it in the distance. But, not before a large, swamp-green tentacle snaked around them, and began beating them into the ground. It wasn’t long before your gaze was back on Lucifer, a million thoughts racing through your head.

It wasn’t until Lucifer’s smile faltered slightly at your silent staring, did he clear his throat, nervously tapping against the apple-tipped cane in his grip. “You look a little shaken up, are you doing good over there?” 

You were about to open your mouth to speak, until your eyes darted to another small, cylindrical object flying right towards Lucifer. You recoiled, throwing your hands in front of your face as it closed in on the fallen angel.

“Watch out!” You cried to him, squeezing your eyes shut as you waited for the familiar boom of the grenade to shake the patio. Lucifer whipped his head around, eyebrows raised as the grenade soared towards him. Lifting his arm, he caught it in his hand before it could hit him in the face, before raising it to get a closer look. 

You splayed your fingers, peeking through the small gap when you realized once more that your heart was still beating. Raising an eyebrow, your face contorted into surprise as your gaze rested on the object in Lucifer’s hand.

The bomb ticked quietly in his palm, slowly increasing in speed as the seconds went by. It vibrated in his grip, and Lucifer only inspected it casually, rolling it between his fingers with interest.

Was he just going to hold it until it exploded? You watched silently with wide eyes, unsure of what exactly was going to happen. If it went off, would the King of Hell even have a scratch on him? Maybe, that was why he seemed so confident holding a bomb in his hands. Watching Lucifer catch it casually in the air a few times only cemented that thought.

The perks of being immortal, you supposed.

“Hm, seems they got the timing off on this one,” Lucifer observed, just as the ticking seemed to increase to every millisecond. Right when you were sure it was about to go off in his palms, Lucifer’s fingers curled around it. It looked like he was squeezing the cylinder like a balloon, as the black, metal surface contorted, shifting from the pressure.

Instead of lighting into a ball of flame, the bomb exploded in a burst of multi-colored confetti. Which sprayed across the patio, a few stray pieces landing on your face as they settled onto the floor. You were silent, in awe at the magical display. Lucifer only grinned at you, a silent boast of his powers as he caught you gawking. He adjusted his collar, still leaning against the railing as he brushed some confetti from his shoulder pads.

Realizing he had noticed your staring, your cheeks began to heat in embarrassment. You lay your eyes for the first time on the most powerful man in Hell and all you can do is stand there and look dumb, get it together! Leaning forward, your head practically hits the cracked tile flooring as you bow.

“Your Majesty, I apologize for my rudeness!” You quickly pipe up, your eyes still locked to the floor as you keep your head down, “Thank you for saving my life, I don’t know if I’d be alive without your intervention.” 

“It was no biggie.” Lucifer shrugged, waving his hand in the air in a sweeping motion, as he brushed off your compliment. He lifted himself from the railing, taking a few steps forward as he began to cross the patio. “Can’t have my daughter’s friends be attacked by a couple of low-life thugs.. again! What kind of a father would that make me?”

You straightened, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your brows furrowed as the words left his lips, mouth opening slightly as if you were about to question him on his statement.

‘Daughter’. Was he talking about Charlie? Of course, he must be, she looked like a carbon copy of him! But, that would mean… it wasn't an imp that had approached you yesterday morning during your shift. At least, not any normal imp. Does that mean you had been talking to…?

It was in the same instance that Lucifer leaned in closer to you, his eyes squinted in thought as he inspected your face. He placed a finger on his chin in thought, as he regarded you with a curious expression through those soft, yellow eyes of his. 

“Wait a second… do I know you from somewhere?” He questioned finally, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. You smiled as you thought of a response, your hands rubbing together in a soothing motion. Lucifer’s eyes lit up in recognition before you could say anything, and he snapped his finger as connected the dots.

“That's right! You were that sweet worker at the formalwear store yesterday, weren’t you? The one that opened early for me!” He beamed, taking another step closer as your eyes widened at the proximity. 

“Y-yes, that was me, Your Majesty.” You stammered out, cursing yourself so being so godamn nervous. “Except, I wasn’t really aware that you were... well, you?”

“Oh, heh, yeah, my impish disguise. Pretty good, eh?”

Yeah, it was. There wasn’t anything that would have made you guess that imp was actually Lucifer, at least before you had met the man. Except, for the height. That hadn’t seemed to change between the two appearances, as you still had to lower your head to meet his gaze even now.

You took a deep breath, calming your jittering nerves as you again realized who was standing right in front of you. Never once did you think a lowly citizen of Hell like you would be this close to the Lucifer Morningstar! Should you have kneeled instead when you greeted him? What was the proper etiquette for this kind of thing? Alastor would have surely known.

That thought made you lean over slightly to get a peek past the fallen angel’s brimmed hat. Your eyes followed the slender, shadowy forms of tentacles snaking around the last two criminals, who were trying to shoot the large masses.

“Aren’t you, um, going to go help..?” You pointed behind him, and Lucifer turned to follow your finger just as another thug was flung past the large fence that surrounded the hotel. Their squeal of fear faded as they disappeared from view. Static-laced laughter filled the air as the tentacles began to dissipate.

“Nah, I think your… friend down there has it covered.” Lucifer shrugged after a moment, turning back to face you. 

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm your jittering nerves. Between last night and this, you were about ready to lay in your bed and hibernate for the next three months. Life was exhausting, it seemed. 

“Well, that was fun!” Lucifer smiled, nodding along as he clasped his hands together. “Didn’t think I’d find drug dealers trying to knock down the walls, though. Looks like I really have to up the security around here.”

You nodded along half-heartedly, and watched as he strolled past you towards the door. He only made it a few steps before he halted, and you jumped slightly as he pivoted to face you. He waggled a finger at you, mock suspicion in his gaze as he leaned in. Now that you could get a better look at him, 

“I also was not expecting to find you here, either. Only yesterday, it seemed like you had no idea the hotel even existed. Now, I find you in the raging path of a feral tea table. An odd turn of events, don't you think?”

You smiled, heat creeping onto your cheeks in embarrassment. You probably looked pretty pathetic when Lucifer was saving you, curled in a ball while you accepted your grim fate. You wished you had some kind of badass demon magic, so you didn’t have to be so helpless. Did Alastor ever feel helpless? No, probably not, he seemed so confident in every situation you saw him face.

The way he strolled down the stairs so casually when the thugs had first attacked, made it seem like he had done that kind of thing many times before. But, it seemed like that was true, since you patched up one scuffle on his coat, and were told of his encounter with Sir. Pentious–which you simply couldn't believe would attempt such a thing, now that you’ve met him–a few months prior. 

You wondered what made him and Lucifer struggle to get along, had something happened in the past between them? Maybe, you could get Alastor to budge with that with a little prodding. For now, you were unsure of what to tell the King. How would he react if you said the only reason you were here was because of Alastor? You didn’t want to lose the friendliness you had with Lucifer, it probably wouldn't be fun to be on the King of Hell’s bad side.

Plus, it seemed like Lucifer liked you. Did that have something to do with the fact that he claimed you were a ‘rare gem’ when it came to being a nice person in Hell? He did give you all that money.. which you lost. Maybe, he’d give you some more if you played your cards right.

And, if it was as friends, you wouldn’t mind getting closer to the fallen angel. He was just so funny and charming, you couldn’t imagine the kind of gossip he had to share, and you wouldn't be bothered if he shared it with you.

“Oh, well, beeeecause I was interested in redemption! Ha-ha, yeah. When we talked earlier, your words just struck something in me! So, I took a tour and stayed the night.”

“Really? I inspired you to come to the hotel?” Lucifer asked incredulously, tilting his head thoughtfully at you. He raised an eyebrow, doubt written across his features. 

“That’s right! I mean, you even gave me a bunch of money like it was no big deal. That was very kind of you!” You nodded enthusiastically. That wasn’t exactly a lie, since the conversation with Lucifer yesterday did lead to Alastor revealing more about the hotel, which in turn piqued your interest enough to even consider staying for an extended period.

Slowly, Lucifer's eyes lit at your response, a gleam of happiness that you hadn’t noticed before. He seemed to be standing a little straighter too, as if that was some kind of confidence boost for him. Did Lucifer not… genuinely help people often? Was it something he wished he could do more often?

Seems like ruling a realm full of demons that continually commit the worst atrocities known to mankind would break an angel’s will to want to make a change. 

“I wanted to thank you again for your generosity,” you started, your tone genuine as the glint in Lucifer’s eyes only seemed to grow, “All that money you gave me would have really helped, 

“Would? What happened?” Lucifer inquired, tilting his head curiously.

“Some guy mugged me,” you stated bluntly, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. It felt weird telling people about your most vulnerable moments. You found no enjoyment in retelling any of these scary events, and hopefully, your bad luck would end soon. 

“And they stole everything from you?”

“Yeah…”

Lucifer huffed in annoyance, his teeth baring slightly as he exhaled a hot breath. He couldn’t exactly be surprised, it was Hell. Not to mention, the guy has been neglecting his kingly duties for a while now and has only just started going to meetings for crying out loud.

“Jeez, I’m sorry about that. Here, let me jus–”

“Where did that new girl go? What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” You could hear Vaggie’s voice from downstairs, as the gaping hole in the side of the hotel made it much easier to hear their conversations now.

You heard multiple inaudible responses to the question, before Vaggie’s rose above them with renewed anger.

“She’s still up there?! you’re telling me none of you numbskulls went to get her after that big explosion?”

“₩Ⱨ₳₮?!” You heard a snarl of static at Vaggie’s words.

Tensing, you kept your eyes trained on Lucifer as you strained your ears to eavesdrop on the voices below. It seemed like they were looking for you now, did they even know whether Charlie’s dad was here? 

“Alastor, hold up!” You heard Angel Dust’s call from the bottom of the staircase, which made you pivot to face the closed doors not too far away. Lucifer, who was standing a few steps away from you, looked up curiously as the doors swung open.

Standing there, chest heaving slightly, ears twitching, was Alastor. His eyes instantly landed on you, before quickly scanning over your figure for injuries. Did he just leap up all those stairs? That wasn’t a very short distance by any means. 

His arms were outstretched beside him, as he gripped both doors. Alastor’s claws slightly dug into its wood frame as he observed the smoking, half-burnt balcony with a tight-lipped smile. It wasn’t until his eyes met Lucifer’s–you swore you saw a flicker of surprise cross his gaze–that something seemed to flip like a switch inside the demon, and Alastor straightened instantly, his ears returning to their normal placement as corrected his posture. 

A large, toothy grin appeared on his face, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze darted between you and Lucifer only a few feet apart. His eyelid twitched as Lucifer sent him a deadly grin behind you, the tension in the air thickening to the point where you felt like you’d suffocate even in this open space. 

You only smiled brightly in return, sending Alastor a finger wave as you sidled a step away from the fallen angel beside you. Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to be having fun as he pivoted slightly to face you. A mischievous glint in his eye as he cocked his head at Alastor, a haughty look on his face.

“Can I help you?” He feigned irritation, an eyebrow quirked as he sent the demon a pointed glance. As if Alastor had just barged in on the two of you deep in discussion, souring the mood. 

Alastor wasn’t able to get a word out when multiple footsteps echoed from behind him, noisily clopping up the long staircase as they bickered amongst themselves. A familiar pink spider popped his head over Alastor’s shoulder, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the pearlescent face beside you. More heads appeared around, their eyes scanning across the balcony as they observed the scene.

“Dad?” Charlie asked, squeezing through the clump of nosy demons, surprise written across her face as she passed Alastor. 

“Honey!” Lucifer beamed, a smile gracing his features as he met his daughter halfway. Charlie extended her arms, ready to accept Lucifer’s large hug as he returned the gesture. He held her for a moment before he released her, backing up a step as the others pushed past Alastor’s figure to get a better place behind the princess.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at that art auction?” Charlie questioned, tilting her head at him. 

“That ended last night.” Lucifer nodded, “Now it’s some kind of celebratory artist-only afterparty, which means even the King of Hell cannot attend, unfortunately. So, I thought I’d drop by. Good timing, it seemed, or else your friend here  would not be standing here any longer.”

Lucifer turned to you, gesturing to the dust and debris hanging to your clothes, as you stood there silently with that same awkward smile. 

“Oh, yeah. She’s interested in being a resident of our hotel, for redemption!” Charlie smiled excitedly, proud to be able to show her father that her dream was slowly expanding. You nodded along, your hands clasped together politely as they discussed you.

“Yes, I heard! We’ve been having a nice discussion these past few minutes, her and I. A real doll, this one is, just like when I met her previously.”

“You two... have met before?” Charlie finally asked, confusion laced in her voice as she looked between the two of you. The demons behind you shot curious glances in your direction, silently waiting for more juicy details.

“She was there when I bought your tuxedo! I was in disguise, though, so nobody saw me as.. well, me. She even opened up early for me, just out of the kindness of her soul!” Lucifer scooted beside you, nudging you in the arm playfully as he spoke. “Guess you could say I owed her a rescue after that considerate gesture.”

“Did you throw a party up here, too?” Vaggie piped up from the doorway, kicking away at a few stray pieces of the colorful confetti that was sprinkled across the floor. Charlie’s eyes were glinting as she processed her father’s words, before glancing down at the new red suit that she was wearing. She looked up at you with renewed interest, a blooming on her face.

“That was all His Majesty, actually,” you finally spoke, lifting a hand to your mouth as you giggled, “It was pretty impressive, to be honest, I’ve never seen a party trick like that before. I thought the confetti was kinda funny.”

You purposely avoided looking at Alastor as you spoke, so his reaction to your praise was a mystery. Lucifer only smiled proudly beside you, your words boosting his ego. 

“Well, that’s not the only trick I’m good at,” Lucifer chuckled. Before he sent you a wink, then a playful smirk that he swept across the small crowd. Their eyes were locked on him, captivated with anticipation for the charming angel to display some of his magical talents.

Except, for Alastor, who only smiled widely, his eyes crinkled in annoyance at the theatrics. You didn’t pay him much mind, instead keeping your attention on Lucifer. During your time in Hell, you hadn’t come into contact with many figures that could harness demonic magic so effortlessly, apart from Alastor.

The King of Hell, however, was on a whole different level, he had pure angelic power. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you were not going to miss this for anything. However, it seemed your admiration was a little too evident, as you missed Alastor's squinted gaze analyzing your expression.

Lucifer finally rested his gaze on Alastor, who met his eyes,  just as he tapped his cane against the ground, a flurry of golden sparks igniting from the touch. a vortex of golden eaves began to swirl around his cane, before flooding across the destroyed, cracked floor of the balcony. It was like a small ocean pooling at your feet, and it felt like the ground was shifting underneath you. 

Sticking a finger gun towards the split table, Lucifer shot an explosion of magic against its surface, and it crackled with energy. Before you could blink, the two pieces slid together, attaching like Lego pieces back onto their legs. Fresh color adorned the wood, a lovely shade of peach with matching chairs. It settled onto the ground, with not even a scratch from the abuse it had just received.

He aimed a few more magical-loaded digits towards the broken railing, and the spilled flower pots, making pew pew sound effects with his mouth as he did so. 

The balcony began to shift back into even better condition than it originally was, the broken scenery straightening itself back into form. Slowly, the golden waves against your ankles dispersed and were pulled back into Lucifer’s cane.

The large, white marble tile beneath your feet was perfectly sealed, not a single crack upon its surface as it sparkled with a newfound shine. You lifted your leg, surprised finding your figure to be completely dry.

The demons around you stood mesmerized by the display, their eyes glowing and lips puckered in a small o. Alastor only tapped his claws against his cane impatiently. 

“How is that for a party trick?” Lucifer turned to you, sending you a charming grin. 

You were about to open your mouth before Charlie appeared at your side with a happy squeak. Her blonde hair cascaded down your shoulder, the silky strands like feathers against your skin. 

“Thank you for the help, Dad!” Charlie beamed, squeezing her cheeks as she stared lovingly at her father, “it’s so great to see you make new friends, too!”

“And, new clients!” Lucifer boasted, adjusting his bowtie with a grin “Last time we talked, I told her all about the hotel and what it offered. Seems like my salesmanship charm prevails once more.”

“How funny,” Alastor’s voice crackled with static as he strode up beside Charlie, planting himself into the small group’s discussion with a grin,  “but it appears His Majesty is mistaken, for it was I who persuaded our darling belle here to take a chance at redemption.”

“Pfft! You? Please, you couldn’t even convince an angel to redeem themselves. At least, not with that haircut!” Lucifer laughed, and your mouth dropped open, your gaze flicking to Alastor, who seemed to hesitate for a moment in shock at the bold insult. 

Your eyes darted to Charlie. She returned the look, before slapping a hand over her dad’s mouth.

“Okay, moving on!” She replied cheerfully, pinching her dad’s lips closed as she turned towards the staircase. Vaggie shot a glare toward the rest of the onlookers, who began to sadly shrink away.

“I’m afraid Your Majesty is uninformed!” Alastor ignored Charlie, as he walked closer to stand right beside you. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your heartbeat quickening at the realization you were directly in the middle of the two dueling forces. 

“Of what?” Lucifer questioned.

“Why, of our association, of course,” Alastor said sweetly, grasping your arm gently as he gestured to your figure. Heat crept onto your cheeks, as you let him slide in closer to you.

“You two know each other?” Lucifer asked, doubt laced in his face as he shot you a questioning stare. You only averted your gaze, unsure of how to respond to all of the prying eyes.

“Indeed! I’m sure you’re familiar with a charm like this?” Alastor smiled innocently, before gingerly holding out your hand, gesturing to your ring finger. That golden ring glinted in the sunlight, and the small rose-gold engraving of the letter A was on full display. 

Lucifer’s eyes widened after a moment, and his gaze shot to you, then to Alastor, before landing back on the ring. He seemed to reel back slightly as it finally dawned on him, before his face settled into a look that silently grumbled ‘You gotta be kidding me.’

Charlie gasped, clutching her cheeks as she leaned in closer for a better look. The ecstatic look on her face was a complete inverse to her father, who only averted his gaze at the sight. 

You stood with an awkward smile, heat creeping onto your cheeks as you sidled slightly away from Alastor. You did not expect him to be sprinting it back onto these guys, in front of Lucifer no less.

The King only turned to you, disbelief in his features as he sent you a pointed stare.

“You’re telling me you work at a formalwear store, and you picked a guy with this bad of a wardrobe?” He gestured subtly to Alastor’s suit, a grimace on his face as he eyed the demon’s style with contempt.

Alastor only adjusted his bow tie, throwing his hair back as he straightened. He shot you a pointed look too, prodding you with a ‘Are you really going to agree with him?’ stare.

You said nothing, so Alastor only turned to face Lucifer, clasping his hands with a large smile, “I’d take your fashion advice to heart, Your Majesty, but it seems your taste lies at the bottom of a bargain bin, so I must respectfully disagree.”

“Bargain bin?!” Lucifer gasped, a hand shooting up to his chest as he recoiled. A growl rose from the fallen angel’s throat as he opened his mouth to retort, only for Charlie to grab him from behind and pull him away from Alastor.

“I’ll pay you triple the amount from yesterday if you just take that ring off!” Lucifer begged as Charlie dragged him down the steps. “Do you fancy goat horns? I know of someone in the Wrath Ring that is available!”

The father-daughter duo disappeared from view, their voices muffled as you watched the doors slam shut with a crackle of green energy. Turning to face Alastor, you find a smug grin dancing on his lips. You frowned, did this guy really just insult the King of Hell like the man couldn’t stomp him in a moment?

“Your arrogance knows no bounds,” you chastise the demon, waggling your finger as you spoke, “speaking so comfortably with the King in such a condescending manner. He could smite you for that, you know.” 

“Verbal sparring with the monarchy is a favorite pastime of mine, sweetheart! I’m sure our dear king enjoys it just as much as I.” Alastor shrugged, twisting the cane between his claws as he regarded you with playful eyes.

“You are such a pain in my—”

Your words died in your throat when the outline of a dark-red rose was thrust towards you, Alastor’s fingers gently curled around its stem as he held it up for view. 

“For you.” He smiled, his lips curled in a soft grin. 

“Me? But, where did you get this?”

“Some bumbling oaf down there was going to stomp on it, so I stomped him, instead,” Alastor shrugged, extending the rose closer to you as he spoke, “I thought it would be something you’d find interest in. It… reminded me of you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, gaze lowering towards the wine-colored flower. It was beautiful, even with its slightly jagged petals, and the much larger thorns that covered the black stem. 

But, for Hell, it was such a relieving sight. To know that something that presented emotions could exist in such an apathetic, pessimistic environment like the realm around you. Honestly, it didn’t have that many similarities in comparison to Earth’s rose, but its mere resemblance made nostalgia pull at your heartstrings.

Old emotions began to boil inside you, and your throat tightened. Even after all the hardships, you still missed the trees and the smell of real, fresh air. The feeling of the sun against your skin, kissing you with a warmth that always stirred a smile onto your lips. Hearing the morning doves in the early spring morning, their gentle coos echoing through the thin veil of fog that settled onto the dew-filled grass. 

Now, you were stuck here. A dark, dirty realm that gave you its fair share of grief too. A lot in the span of two days, even. But, the good in it, was seeing the genuine smile that greeted you every time Alastor drank in your presence. Like this morning, when you agreed to join him on the patio, and the way his ears seemed to stand even taller when you said yes. 

It was also the fact that Alastor was so intent on presenting this lovely gift to you, that he killed someone just so the rose would survive the chaos, that made you feel so warm and giddy inside.

A smile bloomed across your face, and you gently wrapped your fingers around the stem, right above Alastor’s own. The top of your hand grazed against the softer texture of the rose’s petals, but its sharp thorns nicked at the skin on your fingertips, causing you to grimace slightly. You adjusted your grip slowly, the pain ebbing as you found a comfortable hold.

Your hand brushed Alastor’s as he released his grip, pulling his hand towards him, his gaze traveling to your arm lifting as you inspected the rose closer. All the memories of long, forgotten experiences made years prick at your eyes. 

“I.. don’t know what to say. This is so sweet of you,” you replied softly, eyes still locked on the rose and you gently caressed its petals, “thank you, Alastor.” 

Alastor watched the emotion flood across your face, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to say next. The look on your features made him feel.. strange. 

As if, this was a reaction nobody in Hell has ever given him before, excluding Charlie. It was fear and anger that only ever greeted him. Which he preferred, it made him feel strong, made him feel powerful. 

Your soft, sweet smile, however, was something Alastor could get used to. The way the dimples on your cheeks deepened slightly as your lips curled delicately. As if you too were a rose, your petals softly opening for the new day. 

His gaze still rested on you as the tip of your nose inched closer to the petals, before you inhaled a deep breath.

It smelled surprisingly sweet, but also with a warm, earthy scent. A hint of smokiness underneath the layer of the sugared aroma. It reminded you of a wood-burning stove, or the smell of firewood that clung to your shirt after a night in the wilderness.

But, also��� the faint metallic tang of blood. 

Brows furrowing, you pull the flower away, your eyes traveling to the barely visible glistening substance coating part of the stem. It almost mirrored the color of the dark-red petals, and you lifted your gaze to Alastor.

When your eyes traveled up his figure, it was the small trails of red liquid that dripped from his fingertips that made you recoil, a hand to your mouth as you gasped.

“Alastor, you’re bleeding!” The worry in your voice was obvious as you stepped closer to him, trying to get a better look at the small gashes on his skin. He regarded it with indifference, as if it was just a simple bother. You frowned at his reaction, there was no way that didn’t hurt!

He was a sinner, just like you, and almost everyone in the hotel. Mortality was still present in his afterlife, including the sensation of pain. No matter how hard he tried to present himself as a powerful being like Lucifer, he was still just a man who felt the same things you did. If not, with a little different... perspective. 

“It is nothing, do not fret about me, my doe,” Alastor brushed off your words, beginning to pull his hand away from your view. You saw a drop of blood leave the tip of his claw, falling onto the cracks below your feet, “they are just feeble scratches, nothing I, the Radio Demon can’t handl–”

Alastor’s words died in his throat, the last of his sentence coming out in pure static as his pupils dilated on your hand wrapping around his wrist. Your grip was firm, preventing him from shielding the wounds from you, as you tugged his hand closer.

This was the boldest move you had made since the two of you had first met. It was usually Alastor who made the first gesture, who took your hand and touched you softly. As if you were a fragile doll that could crack at the teeniest bit of pressure.

The man was so used to control, having complete say in who touched him—which was never, unless you count Angel Dust whenever he tried riling up the demon—and why. If you were some normal face in the crowd making such a move, he’d probably have torn them apart.

But oh, the warmth from your touch that greeted his cool skin had him yearning for more. That blissful feeling that seemed to bloom from inside his bones, that traveled like a river through his veins, filling him up with a strange, yet awfully familiar feeling.

Like, when his mother would sit him down at the table for dinner, a bowl of hot, steaming Jambalaya in her hands that she made just for him. Anytime she noticed he had a hard day, she’d cook his favorite meal.

As a child, he had eagerly scarfed it down, impatient to fill his stomach with such a treat. When he grew older, however, he learned to slow down and savor the explosion of flavors that tickled his taste buds in every bite. 

He remembered the way the delicacy traveled down his throat, and how it felt like a fire was igniting in his belly. The warmth emanating from your skin reminded him so much of that.

And that smile that always graced your features at the sight of him? Alastor remembered that from somewhere too. His mother’s lips always curved into a soft, gentle grin that would make anyone butter up in their presence.

Your lips seemed to curve just the same, and the demon was sure if the two of you would have met before the afterlife. His mother would have loved to meet you. 

Alastor remained deathly silent, his muscles tense as you splayed out his claws, turning his hand over to have his palm face up. There was dried blood across the smooth skin, which meant he had been bleeding for a while now. 

How hard was Alastor holding the rose during the fight that he cut up his hand like this? If it wasn’t for the bickering between him and Lucifer, you surely would have noticed it earlier.

Your fingers gently brushed against the small cuts, blood still slowly seeping from beneath the demon’s skin. You nudged his wound softly, inspecting it with worry. 

“Does that hurt?” You asked softly with furrowed brows.

“Does it matter?” Alastor scoffed, averting your expectant gaze.

“Yes! It does, actually!” You retorted, before your gaze moved to your outfit with a determined look. Quickly, you reached down, taking a fistful of fabric in your grasp before pulling it hard. With some friction, it began to tear away from the rest of your garment.

Now, you had a large piece of cloth in one hand, and Alastor’s wrist in the other. Reaching forward, you began to cover his cuts tightly against the fabric.

“Must you ruin such a pretty outfit for something so insignificant like my hand?” Alastor inquired, exasperation lacing his voice, “You’re treating it like some kind of battle wound, I am fine, my doe.” 

He didn’t pull away from you, however, as you finished patching up his injury. Inspecting his hand closer, you eyed work for a moment, before you shook your head, dissatisfied. 

“I forbid you from doing any activities for the rest of today until you address your wounds,” you declared, crossing your arms sternly. 

“Forbid?” He inquired, quirking a brow in amusement.

“That’s right! If you don’t take care of your injury, or let me do it for you, then I’ll have no choice but to put my foot down.”

Alastor squinted at you for a moment, that grin masking his thoughts as he regarded you. Was he going to argue? Sweat beaded on your forehead as you anticipated his answer. It wasn’t like you could exactly stop the powerful demon from doing what he wanted, but you also couldn't just let him strain his wound further because of pride.

Alastor didn’t argue. Instead, he simply shrugged, a pleased smile gracing his features. He closed his eyes thoughtfully, before holding a limp hand towards you. 

“Well, if you insist,” he hummed, cracking one eye open to watch you expectantly.

“Really..?” You asked in disbelief, regarding his hand with suspicion.  

“If the lady wishes to fuss over my health, I suppose I could heed her demands,” Alastor responded casually, lifting his hand closer towards you, “and, how could I refuse such a generous offer?”

You smiled playfully before slowly wrapping your fingers around the makeshift gauze, trying to get a good grip around his cuts as you held his hand.

“Is there somewhere I could get medical aid inside? Baindaids, alcohol solution… ibuprofen?”

Did Ibuprofen even exist down here? There had to be something similar at least, the Pride Ring was full of mortals that could still feel pain. Was Alastor in a lot of pain? Even if he was, you probably wouldn't get a straight answer from him. 

Now, you understood why Alastor and Lucifer didn’t like each other. They were just fighting for who was really the embodiment of pride.

“Hm..” Alastor tilted his head in thought, before his ears twitched, and a sly smile graced his lips, “I do believe I know just the place!”

Without a word, he returned your grip and pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched, your chest almost bumping against Alastor’s as he took your other hand. The two of you looked as if you were about to start a waltz, as the demon looked out towards the railing, his chest still facing yours as his smile grew.

“Hang on tight, my dear!” He stated chipperly, and you fastened your grip hastily. The air began to crackle with energy, goosebumps rippling across your skin as static seemed to tickle at your figure. Green smoke pooled at your feet, and that familiar tingling sensation overtook you, just like the first time you were teleported. 

Alastor only pulled you closer right as the smoke blasted up, cold air hitting your face as you were pulled into darkness. The presence of the hand against yours was faint, but at least you weren't alone this time. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, your heart racing as you waited to feel the floor against your feet once more. Then, you felt a thumb brush softly against your knuckles, it circled soothingly across your skin, and you relaxed slightly.

What felt like minutes really only took a couple of seconds, as you felt soft lighting hit your eyelids, and Alastor stir beside you. His hand didn’t leave yours, as he waited for you to join reality.

“Not so bad, hm?” He prodded you slightly, beckoning you back into reality.

Letting your pupils adjust to the light, the familiar wallpaper from the hotel corridor met your vision. Did he really just materialize the two of you across the building? You didn't have any problem walking, but perhaps Alastor was trying to avoid the small crowd that would have met them at the bottom of the patio stairs.

“I feel kind of queasy,” you responded, shaking your head of the fog in the back of your mind.

“After a few times through, it won’t bother you anymore,” Alastor assured.

Trying to get a better estimate of your location, you turned your head to one side of the hall, taking in the sight of a dark, oak door. The familiar numbering made you quirk a brow, tilting your head towards the smiling demon. He met your gaze, a soft, lipped smile on his face.

“We’re going in my room?”

“Not quite..” he hummed, gripping your shoulders and pivoting you to the opposite side. Your eyes widened, gaze locked onto the matching door of Alastor’s room.

You stayed silent, feet frozen in place as you watched him take a few steps, his good hand wrapping around the spherical doorhandle. Slowly, he twisted the knob until it clicked softly. The hinges creaked with age, and the hallway lights began to spill into the darkened room as the crack in the doorway widened.

You couldn’t see anything through the slightly opened entryway, but your heart quickened as the second passed by. Your eyes flicked up to Alastor, who regarded you curiously, his gaze gentle as your nerves began to display on your face. 

“Ladies first!” He beamed, his smile an assurance to your heated skin.

He obviously wanted you to go inside, and part of your brain was nudging you forward with excitement. Alastor was inviting you into his quarters, he was allowing you to take a step inside his world, to get to know him! 

The other part whispered hesitation. What lay behind that door? Surely, more than just medical supplies.

It was as if you wrapped a sheet around the reluctance that was beginning to plague your mind, stuffing it underneath the floorboards of your brain. You weren't going to let your flustered mind get the better of you, and have you miss such an opportunity to get closer to the charming demon.

Exhaling a quiet breath, you banished your nerves into the air. Straightening your back, you sent Alastor a warm smile and took a step forward.

wingman!lucifer anybody? ✋

let me know what you think! ☺️ comments and reblogs are appreciated!

tags 🏷️

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[moonbeamsandmayhem]

pairing: rockstar!Eddie x fem!reader

warnings: dom/sub undertones, breeding kink if you squint, please let me know if I missed anything

NYE 1993 - 11:55pm, Time’s Square, NYC, Eddie’s penthouse

Eddie is completely drunk on your pussy. Right now, that wicked tongue you love to hate, is currently lapping at the mess along your thighs, slurping at the slick. He hums contently as you twitch with aftershocks within his grasp. Lovingly, tenderly, he kisses your sweet clit, chuckling when you squirm. “Sensitive, sweetness?” Eddie asks, blinking up at you with faux-innocence. “‘M sorry.”

“N-no, you’re not.” You hiccup and he flicks his tongue again triggering a soft hiss from you.

“Am too.” Eddie makes his way up your body, caging you in, his hair forming a curtain around you, framing his face. He was smiling at you, a mix of mischief with a splash of warmth. “So this is how you wanted to spend New Year’s Eve, huh? Could’ve been at a lavish party,” Eddie reaches down between the two of you, guiding his pierced member into your heat, stretching you nice and slow. He groans and you whimper, “But you wanted to ring in 1994 on my cock, baby?”

“Uh huh.” Is all you can muster. Your back arches and he takes advantage of the close proximity to your tits. Eddie leans down, lips pulling at a nipple, nibbling gently, his tongue lathing over the pert bud, before sucking hard. He feels you tighten around his dick and he smirks, his hips finding a steady rhythm.

It isn’t long before he has you screaming, hitting that spot inside you that you can never reach. “Oh, fuck - fuck - fuck - Eddie - fuck!” You’re soaking the sheets beneath you, and if it weren’t for the thousands of people downstairs waiting for the ball to drop and your own howls you’re sure you’d be able to hear the lewd, wet, sloppy sounds from between your legs.

“Aw, look at you,” Eddie grunts slowing it down and making you mewl, “Pretty little thing when you’re all fucked-out.” He glances out the big bay windows, confetti floating by as the crowds excitement begins to swell.

11:59pm

He turns his attention back to you, wrapping a ringed hand around your throat, his thrusts becoming more desperate, the headboard smacking against the wall, leaving a dent without a care.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6 —

Eddie’s other hand grasps your wrists to keep you in line. All the bravado replaced with hunger now, a feral need to make you both cum. He ups the ante, angling his cock in a way that makes you see stars. Your eyes roll back, and your jaw goes slack, on the precipice of oblivion.

5, 4,—

The metal head claims your mouth, swallowing your wails, you can taste yourself on his tongue.

3, 2, 1 —

12:00am, January 1st, 1994

Fireworks explode both outside and deep within your core. You give a muffled cry and he gives a grizzled groan into each other’s mouths as you cum together. You nearly blackout with this orgasm’s intensity, trying to twist away as he continues to thrust through it, filling you up.

After a moment or two, Eddie releases your throat and wrists, opting to kiss your nose which he’s satisfied to see you scrunch. He chuckles softly, pressing his sweaty forehead to yours, deep brown eyes finding your own. “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

“Happy New Year, Eddie.”

[dawnoftime22]

teddy bear.

| T.S

Warnings: none, other than heart melting fluff

Summary: in the midst of cuddling, Taylor hears you speak of the sweetest words.

Word Count: 642

Category: Fluff!!!

| Started on 17/10/2024, 9:39 AM |

| Finished on 10/01/2025, 8:50 AM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

Request Guidelines

“Pour out your love for a gentle heart.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

It was a peaceful, late evening, where Taylor had already closed the curtains and turned on the fairy lights, leading the room to be cozy and snuggly.

Taylor was on the bed with you, cuddling. Her phone wasn't even in her hands, it was off at the bedside table, sitting face down. Her arms were occupied by the embrace of you.

Benjamin was curled up right over beside both of you, purring contentedly like a ball of floof.

You buried your face into her chest, hugging her closely. She gazed down at you, a smile tugging upon her lips.

After you've finished entirely nuzzling against her, your cheek pressed against her collarbone. "...You feel like a teddy bear," your voice had sounded out eventually, the words making her eyebrows rise.

"You think I'm a teddy bear?" she questions, leaning in downwards to you, nearly brushing her nose by your forehead.

You nod gently. "Mhm. My teddy bear." With your arms still wrapped around her, you squeeze her as if she was a squeaky toy, unable to resist a gentle cuteness agression. Her insides were melting, that's for sure.

"Do you even know how adorable you are right now?" Her hand gently brush through the threads of your hair, watching every feature on your face. You only nuzzle further into her, and she tightens her hold on you.

"Like, are you aware of that?" she had to add in, making you giggle, and for her own voice to follow too.

You peek out her chest, looking up at her loving face. She had to stop herself from peppering kisses all over you or absolutely squeezing until you couldn't breathe, although opting for one kiss at least to your temple.

"I love you," your voice mumbled softly. Your nose brushes against her jaw before you relax more, staying laid down like nothing else mattered.

She smiles wider, going to nuzzle into your face. "Mhmn, love you too..." she murmurs back, then turned her head to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

You returned it, your lips moving in a sweet, slow pace before the kiss was soon broken, and she gazed into your eyes.

"You're a squishy, squishy human," you say, and she laughs, planting a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, pulling you closer.

"You're just as squishy. I could hug you super tightly until you explode into a million confetti," she murmurs, resting her cheek against your hair, swaying slightly.

"Don't do that!" you say, turning to look up at her once more. She giggled, one hand letting go of you to give you a small boop.

Your nose wrinkles, and you smiled widely, going to copy her action with your own finger, your hearts practically spilling down love.

A few seconds later, Benjamin had uncurled from his comfy position, curiously walking off to you two, his blue eyes strikingly adorable.

"Benji wants to join," Taylor says softly, smiling as she urged the floof, using her hand to reach out to him.

"Its gonna be a cuddle session with Benji," you say, instantly letting your hand meets his soft and poofy fur, the purrs off the cat absolutely turning up more.

"He's a squishy cat," you mumbled, wrapping an arm around him while keeping one around the blonde, leaning down to press your cheek against him. The purrs vibrate to your skin, eliciting a calm feeling.

"Yes, he is." She giggles softly once more, seeing how you've managed to cuddle up with both her and her cat. Her hands gently scratch the back of Benjamin's ear, then she leans down to let her lips meet your other cheek, free for her to attack soft kisses upon entirely. You giggled along with her, just about trapped in the love attack. The cat was oblivious, having his eyes closed beneath you.

---------------------

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[kindaasrikal]

Technically all the ninja have the capabilities to explode. Theoretically speaking.

Kai can literally just light his insides on fire and boom. Kai-boom. He could technically drink gasoline too. Wyldfyre is a mini Kai except she seems much more capable of lighting her entire body on fire without question. Also, fat tissue is apparently flammable.

Nya could theoretically make her blood cells explode. Or she could drink a lot of water. And since our bodies are like 60% or so water already…

Zane was a bomb once and exploded, no explanation needed there. He just has to charge up his heart with enough elemental energy and boom. The custom Zane-bomb. Ready to sacrifice from 9-5 on all working days. Except Fridays. That’s when he has to cook dinner.

Pixal may not be a ninja, but she is a samurai, so she’s included in this. Pixal is Pixal. She probably has a “if bomb is needed, flip this switch” option just in case. Her dad can fix her up again.

Lloyd is Lloyd, no explanation needed there either. He just has to make a really big elemental energy ball thing like he did in the early seasons, surround himself with it, and fling himself at someone.

Jay is a bomb in every sense of the word. Electrical pulses are sent to the brain using the nervous system, so like he could make his head explode too.

Cole is the only exception except if he can make himself a rock suit, who’s to say he can’t make one with dangerous materials that come straight from the ground? Also, he might need Kai and Nya’s help. Something about rocks with moisture being explodable and heat being needed to make them go boom.

Sora has also made a bomb, and she could slowly make herself more robot limbs if the need is ever there and kaboom her way to sacrifice. She could make a bomb suit, except it doesn’t protect her from the bomb, it makes her the bomb.

Euphrasia and Morro could technically fill their lungs with so much air/wind until they explode. Oxygen is also has a small percentage of Air/Wind, and our blood or smth carries a small amount of it too…so can’t they pull a Nya and make their blood explode as well?

Didn’t they also say something is Dragons Rising about the ninja feeling their elements in specific areas? Who’s to say they can’t just charge those areas up and go boom. Like Zane.

Edit: just to clarify, no i am not mentally ill nor unstable it was 4am and i was thinking about avatar the last air bender and how it’s logic can be used in Ninjago. Please guys this post is funny haha not “are you ok????” I imagine them exploding like balloons with a bunch of confetti.

[mapiforpresident]

May I request prompt no 9 with Alexia putellas

A Joyous Revelation

Alexia x reader

warnings: none

The sun cast a golden glow over the sprawling gardens of Alexia Putellas and y/n's home in Barcelona as they prepared for the most eagerly anticipated event of their lives—the gender reveal party for their baby. Surrounded by their loved ones, including teammates, family, and close friends, the air buzzed with excitement and anticipation.

Alexia and y/n, who had been together for five years and married for two, exchanged nervous glances as they stood hand in hand, their hearts pounding in unison. The journey to this moment had been filled with hope, heartache, and unwavering determination, but now, as they awaited the revelation of their baby's gender, their joy knew no bounds.

As the moment of truth drew near, Alexia and y/n felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement coursing through their veins. They had a couple activities planned before the actual gender reveal and had food out for all the guests.

Once it was finally time to reveal the gender, Alexia used her captain voice to call everyone together. Mapi was the one in charge of planning how the gender was revealed. She had decided on footballs filled with the color confetti of the gender. She had two made, one for each mom so they could kick them at the same time.

With bated breath, they each stepped forward, ready to kick the footballs that would determine their bundle of joy's gender. But as their feet connected with the balls and the confetti exploded into the air, confusion briefly clouded their joy.

"Why is there both pink and blue confetti?" Alexia exclaimed, her brow furrowing in confusion. She knew she shouldn't have trusted Mapi with such an important task, although it seemed like a better choice than Alba at the time.

"Mapi what did you do, you were supposed to fill both with the color of the gender not one of each," y/n exclaimed as Ingrid was just smiling next to Mapi, Mapi not being able to keep the secret from her.

Mapi, unable to contain her excitement any longer, stepped forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Because," she announced, her voice ringing out with joy, "you're having twins!"

The revelation was met with stunned silence, followed by an eruption of cheers and applause as the reality of their double blessing sank in. Tears of joy streamed down Alexia and y/n's faces as they hugged, their hearts overflowing with love and gratitude. Alexia placed her hand on y/n's growing belly grateful to share this experience with the love of her life.

Surrounded by their loved ones, Alexia and y/n felt a profound sense of gratitude for the journey that had led them to this moment. Eli and Alba came and hugged them both already talking about everything they were going to buy the two new additions to the family.

With laughter and love filling the air, Alexia and y/n basked in the glow of their growing family, knowing that the best was yet to come.

please give feedback!!

[sunshinesehun]

Karma - Choi San

A/N: Because I just feel like this lyric change is so natural and it spawned all of this 😂

The energy in the stadium was electric, the roar of the crowd vibrating through the floor beneath San’s feet. He stood among thousands of fans, a black cap pulled low over his forehead, but nothing could hide the way his eyes never left you. From the second you stepped onto the stage with your group, you had his full attention.

The performance was flawless—every move, every note perfectly in sync. But San wasn't just watching the show. He was watching you. The way your eyes would subtly flicker toward him when you moved to a certain side of the stage, the small smirk that played on your lips when you caught him staring, the way your fingers lingered on your mic just a second longer when the lyrics hit a little too close to home.

And he wasn’t imagining it—you knew exactly where he was in the crowd.

Your group powered through the setlist, the stadium lights flashing in time with the beat, the energy only building with each song. San had been to countless performances, but nothing compared to watching you command the stage. His heart swelled with pride every time the fans screamed your name, knowing that you had worked tirelessly to reach this moment. He could barely stand still, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, caught somewhere between admiration and pure exhilaration.

Then, the music shifted. The intro to your final song played, and the screams somehow grew even louder.

“Karma” had dominated charts, and had fans in the crowd singing their lungs out before you even reached the chorus. But tonight, it carried an even deeper meaning. You and San had talked about this moment for weeks—about how, after keeping your engagement a secret, this was how you wanted to tell the world. He had laughed at first, calling it the most you way to announce it, but he had agreed, knowing how much this moment would mean to both of you.

As you took center stage, you met his gaze one more time. There was something different about it now—a glint of mischief, of something unspoken. Then, as the verse built up to that lyric, the entire stadium seemed to hold its breath.

“Karma is the guy in Ateez coming straight home to me.”

San grinned, his chest tightening with overwhelming love and excitement. The crowd erupted. His heart pounded as he watched you lift your left hand high in the air, the stage lights catching the glint of a diamond ring.

For a moment, he swore the entire world slowed down.

His hands flew to his head, eyes wide with awe and pride. The fans around him screamed even louder, some turning toward him in realization, but he could barely process anything else. All he could see was you.

You, standing on that stage, fearless and radiant, announcing to the entire world that you were his—just as much as he was yours.

Beside him, Wooyoung and the rest of the Ateez members exploded into cheers, clapping him on the back and shouting in excitement. “She really just did that!” Wooyoung hollered, his voice almost lost in the deafening crowd.

San let out a breathless laugh, running a hand over his face, a thousand emotions crashing over him at once. Then, unable to help himself, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “I LOVE YOU!”

You blew him a kiss before launching into the final chorus, your smile never fading.

San had never felt luckier in his life.

The show ended in a blur of cheers, confetti raining down as your group took your final bow. Fans chanted your names long after you disappeared backstage, but San was already moving. He didn’t care about the cameras, the fans still buzzing with excitement—his only thought was getting to you.

By the time he reached your dressing room, you had barely stepped inside, still glowing from the performance. You turned just in time for him to sweep you into his arms, lifting you off the ground in a breath-stealing embrace.

He let out a breathy chuckle, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Even though I knew you were going to do that,” he murmured, voice full of warmth, “it still hit me like a truck.”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, grinning. “It was perfect, wasn’t it?”

San let out a soft laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. His hands slid down to cradle your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, eyes flickering to your ring before meeting yours again. “And I love you so much it’s actually ridiculous.”

You giggled, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Good,” you teased, “because I plan on coming straight home to you for the rest of my life.”

San didn’t even respond. He just kissed you, deep and slow, pouring every ounce of love he had into it.

And in that moment, with your arms wrapped around him and your heartbeat against his, he knew—nothing in the world could ever compare to this.

[leorioscanonwife]

♡ “The Prom She Deserved” ♡ (A Leorio x Jolie fanfic)

✎ Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Wholesome, Comedy,

✎ Hunter x Hunter Fanfic, Leorio x Oc, Leorio x Self insert

✎ 4.1k Words

Rain streaked gently down the windows of their cozy little apartment, matching the soft background hum of the TV. Jolie and Leorio were curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket. The TV screen flickered with pastel lights and dramatic violin music as a teen movie prom scene unfolded—slow dancing, glitter falling from the ceiling, people crying because someone confessed their love near a balloon arch. The works.

Jolie stared at it blankly, eating a handful of dry cereal straight from the box.

Leorio glanced down at her. “You’ve been quiet.”

Jolie blinked, then snorted. “I’m always quiet when people are experiencing things I didn’t get to.”

Leorio paused. “…Like prom?”

She shrugged, playing it cool—but her voice wobbled a little. “Yeah. I didn’t go. Never did the dances. Or field trips. Or theme days. I didn’t even get to do spirit week because I was scared I’d get shoved in a locker for wearing mismatched socks.”

She let out a half laugh and sat up, hugging the cereal box to her chest. “I got bullied a lot, Lele. Like, ‘don’t eat in the cafeteria unless you want mashed potatoes in your hair’ levels of bad. Nobody wanted me around. I stopped going to school events because every time I tried, I felt like I was crashing a party I wasn’t invited to.”

Leorio’s heart sank. “Jolie…”

“I used to sneak into the auditorium after hours just to pretend I was part of something. I’d hum the slow songs I never got to hear in real life. Once, I danced with a mop just to feel like I wasn’t completely alone.” She sniffed, then immediately added with a smirk, “His name was Gregory and he was a great dancer, thank you very much.”

Leorio gave a tight, loving smile, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You deserved more than that, my little firecracker.”

She shrugged again. “It’s okay. I’m okay now. I mean, I’ve got you, don’t I?” She leaned into his shoulder. “Even if we never had a prom night, I’ve got couch snuggles and cereal dinners. That’s enough.”

But Leorio’s mind was already racing. Because it wasn’t enough. Not for her.

————————————————————————-

Three Days Later…

The door burst open with a dramatic crash, and Jolie exploded inside like a glitter bomb with legs.

She had four snack bags in her arms, a fuzzy blanket knotted around her neck like a cape, and the crazed gleam of a woman on the edge.

“LELE, I HAVE ACQUIRED THE HOLY GRAIL—JALAPEÑO PUFFS AND THE BARELY-LEGAL ENERGY DRINK THAT MAKES ME SEE SOUNDS—”

She skidded to a halt mid rant.

Her eyes widened.

The lights were dim, casting everything in a dreamy pink and purple haze. Fairy lights sparkled like stars lazily winking down from the ceiling. Glittery streamers swayed across the walls, and scattered across the floor were flower petals, confetti, and tiny disco ball keychains. In the very center of it all was a handmade banner in sparkly gold letters that read:

PROM NIGHT – CLASS OF JOLIE

And standing beneath it—straightening his tie, looking somewhere between nervously smug and totally enchanted—was Leorio.

He wore a dark navy suit with a rose-pink tie that almost matched the flush in his cheeks. In one hand, he held a corsage of her favorite wildflowers. Slung over his shoulder was a garment bag.

The snack bags fell to the floor.

So did her jaw.

“Leorio…” Her voice wobbled. “Is that a murder weapon… or a prom dress?”

He smiled, a little sheepish but undeniably proud. “You once said if you ever got to go to prom, you’d wear something pink, fluffy, and capable of blinding satellites.”

Her eyes went round. “You remembered that?”

“I remember everything about you,” he said gently. “Now open it.”

Hands trembling, Jolie lunged forward like a raccoon faced with a golden trash can. She yanked down the zipper and let out a strangled squeal.

Inside was the most gloriously ridiculous dress she had ever seen. It was cotton candy pink, covered in star shaped glitter and ruffles that flounced just from looking at them. Tulle poofed dramatically like it had been threatened. It sparkled under the lights like it was forged in a fairy’s fever dream.

Her lips quivered. “You menace. You chaotic, romantic maniac. You got me a fairy tale dress.”

He grinned. “I also got you glittery heels… and a backup pair of bunny slippers for when those inevitably betray you.”

She didn’t say anything at first. She just stood there, staring at the dress, then at him.

Then her eyes filled with tears.

“You…” she whispered, voice cracking. “You actually did all this for me.”

“I wanted you to have the prom you deserved,” Leorio said, stepping closer. “And I wanted to be your date. For real this time.”

With a broken laugh and a soft sob, Jolie launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking him over as she wrapped herself around him like an overdramatic boa constrictor.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever,” she cried into his chest. “Like, ever ever. You remembered the thing I said a year ago while I was high on expired chocolate pudding. Who does that?!”

Leorio chuckled and rubbed her back, holding her tight. “A guy who’s stupidly in love with his little firecracker.”

She sniffled and pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes glassy but sparkling. “I look like a trash goblin right now, but I swear to god, I’m gonna put that dress on and look like the glitter demon queen I was born to be.”

He wiped away one of her tears with a knuckle, then kissed her forehead. “Go get ‘em, Your Majesty.”

She gave him one last squeeze, grabbed the dress like it was a sacred relic, and bolted down the hallway yelling, “NOBODY FOLLOW ME! I’M GONNA DO A SLOW-MO WALKOUT AND YOU’RE ALL GONNA WEEP!”

Leorio watched her go, smiling so hard his face hurt.

————————————————————————

Ten Minutes Later…

The lights dimmed a little more. The music changed to something softly retro, dreamy and slow. And then—

From the hallway emerged Jolie.

No—exploded.

She turned the corner like a final boss in a magical girl anime, arms extended dramatically, her fluffy pink prom dress swishing with every gloriously extra step. The tulle bounced like it had its own personality. Glitter caught in the fairy lights and shimmered in a soft halo around her. Her sparkly heels clicked across the floor, and atop her head sat a tiara, tilted slightly to the side like she knew she was trouble.

“BEHOLD,” she announced, twirling once like a storm in a candy store. “IT IS I, THE GLITTER QUEEN OF CHAOS HIGH.”

Leorio stood in the middle of the room, jaw slack.

He was holding the corsage again, though this time he nearly dropped it from sheer awe.

“Miss Jolie,” he said with an exaggerated, slightly wobbly gentleman’s bow, “would you do me the honor of being my date tonight?”

She blinked rapidly, eyes glossy with emotion but smile still ridiculous. “Lele…”

“I’ve got fairy lights. I’ve got slow songs. I’ve got a punch bowl that is… probably illegal,” he added with a grimace. “And most importantly—” He wiggled his fingers with flair. “I’ve got two left feet, both labeled ‘danger.’”

Jolie gave him the most dramatic curtsy she could muster. “You had me at ‘probably illegal.’”

He stepped forward and gently slipped the corsage around her wrist. Then, very softly, he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles like a prince in a storybook.

She promptly squeaked like a microwave full of marshmallows.

They began to sway under the warm twinkle of the fairy lights, moving with a rhythm that was more heart than coordination. Jolie leaned her head against his chest, one heel slightly lifting as they slowly spun in a circle.

“I never thought I’d get this,” she murmured, voice barely louder than the music. “Not the lights, or the dress, or you in a suit looking like you walked out of a teen drama to ruin my academic concentration.”

“If I was in your class,” Leorio whispered, “you’d have made me fail biology on purpose.”

“Oh, I definitely would’ve passed you love notes in the shape of paper planes. Probably folded in the middle of math class with aggressive hearts drawn in red ink.”

He chuckled. “I would’ve kept them all. And I’d make you sit next to me in every group project, just to hear you rant about how boring the mitochondria is.”

“It is boring,” she muttered. “Unless you set it on fire.”

Leorio laughed, then grew a bit softer. “If I had known you back then, Jolie… I would’ve walked you to class every day. I’d have carried your bag, punched every jerk who made you feel small, and held your hand in the halls so no one could pretend you weren’t worth everything.”

Her eyes filled again. She stopped moving.

“I used to sit by myself at lunch,” she admitted, looking down. “I’d read books and pretend I was somewhere else. I didn’t go to prom because… no one asked. And I didn’t wanna go alone. It just felt like… if I went, it would prove how unwelcome I really was.”

Leorio reached up, cupping her cheek gently.

“Well,” he said, voice rough, “you’re not alone now. Not anymore. And I’m here to make sure you never feel like that again.”

She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight, eyes wet. “You’re literally the best boyfriend ever, you know that? Like, award winning. I’d let you sign my yearbook and everything.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You’d have drawn glittery hearts around my name and asked me to beat up half the school, wouldn’t you?”

“You’d do it too,” she sniffled, pulling back with a grin. “You’d be like: ‘Who bullied her? Square up.’”

“Damn right I would. I’d be the angry nerd with brass knuckles and a soft spot.”

They swayed again, arms locked, noses nearly touching.

And then—

“OW!” Jolie suddenly yelped.

Leorio froze, mortified. “I stepped on your toe, didn’t I?”

“YOU ABSOLUTE TREE OF A MAN!” she accused, hopping on one foot. “MY TOES ARE FRAGILE AND TINY!”

“I blame you! You’re too short! You keep moving underneath me like a hyperactive squirrel made of glitter!”

“That is short person slander!”

“That is short person fact! You’re like… sparkly ankle height danger!”

She narrowed her eyes. “You better buy me snacks later to make up for this.”

“Done. Unlimited. Name your price.”

They collapsed into giggles as they continued dancing in chaotic slow circles, bumping into the furniture and each other, mock-insulting between kisses and laughter. The music played softly on, and for that one ridiculous, glitter soaked night, Jolie finally got her prom.

And she got it with the boy who never would’ve let her sit alone.

————————————————————————

Meanwhile… at the Punch Bowl of Doom:

Jolie tip tapped her way across the living room floor in sparkly heels, holding what appeared to be a lumpy wad of plastic wrap like it was a sacred relic. Her eyes were glittering with pure, unfiltered menace. She glanced left. She glanced right. Then, with the ceremony of a wizard performing a forbidden ritual, she plopped a suspiciously chunky brownie into the punch bowl.

A soft plunk echoed in the room. The punch rippled.

Killua blinked from across the room. “Did you just spike the punch with… dessert?”

Jolie turned slowly, grinning like a mad scientist. “Oh, sweet naive snow haired assassin… We don’t just spike the punch at this prom. We obliterate it.”

She dropped in two more brownies like bombs.

Then, with zero explanation, she peeled back the plastic wrap to reveal a fist sized wad of Leorio’s hair. Not even a few strands—a wad. Like she’d either mugged his hairbrush or harvested it during one of his naps.

Killua’s face contorted in horror. “WHAT—JOLIE. THAT IS NOT FOOD SAFE.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, delicately sprinkling the hair clump into the bowl like seasoning. “It’s for ambiance.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT AMBIANCE MEANS—”

But it was too late. The damage was done. The punch was now a cursed relic of sugar, follicle, and danger.

Never one to be outdone, Killua reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a menacing little glass bottle with a cartoon skull on it. “Ghost pepper hot sauce,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Limited edition. Two drops is enough to kill a small adult.”

Then he unscrewed the cap… and poured the whole thing in.

The punch bowl hissed. HISSED. Like it was alive. Like it was angry.

Gon bounced in at the exact moment the punch tried to steam. “Hey guys! I brought worms!”

Jolie leaned in to inspect. “Are those… alive?”

Gon hesitated. “I caught them in the yard!”

“PERFECT,” she declared, and chucked a whole handful into the bowl.

The worms wriggled. The punch gurgled. The surface shimmered with chocolate oil slicks, spicy bubbles, and suspicious hair strands dancing like seaweed in a Lovecraftian brew.

Kurapika walked into the kitchen, blinking. “What… in God’s name… is going on over here?”

They all turned to him like synchronized cultists.

“Kurapika,” Gon said with a radiant smile, “drink the punch.”

“No,” he said immediately.

“Kurapika,” Killua added with a smirk, “do it for the memories. Of prom. Of youth.”

“I was homeschooled,” he snapped.

“DRINK IT,” Jolie chanted, thrusting a ladle full of swirling horror juice into his hands.

Kurapika stared at them. Then the punch. Then back at them. And, with the resigned sigh of someone who had clearly lost control of his life somewhere back in Yorknew, he raised the cup to his lips… and sipped.

Immediately, his spine straightened like he’d been struck by lightning.

He fell to his knees.

“I—I think my stomach is burning through my spine,” he gasped, clutching his side.

Jolie patted his back solemnly. “It’s the taste of memory. And sin.”

The rest of them, like moths to a spicy, disgusting flame—took a sip too.

Killua coughed. Gon shrieked. Melody dry heaved from another room without even drinking it. Leorio, who had no idea what had happened to his hair, casually took a sip and muttered, “Tastes like betrayal and cinnamon.”

Within seconds, the entire group was sprinting to the sink, gagging and howling and slapping each other on the back. Even the worms were trying to escape.

Jolie, of course, watched it all with a satisfied nod.

“…Prom achieved.”

————————————————————————

Everyone was still reeling, Kurapika foaming slightly at the mouth on the couch, Killua dunking his entire head in the sink, and Gon trying to tame one of the worms with friendship when Leorio stood up on a folding chair and cupped his hands around his mouth.

“ATTENTION ALL CHAOS PARTICIPANTS,” he bellowed. “It is time to crown our Prom Royalty!”

Jolie, currently trying to draw a mustache on Kurapika with glitter glue, blinked. “Wait, for real? I thought we abolished the monarchy five snacks ago.”

“Nope,” Killua said, eyes still watering from the ghost pepper punch. “You’re getting crowned whether you like it or not, Sparkle Tyrant.”

Leorio dramatically whipped out a crumpled paper crown. “All in favor of Jolie as Prom Queen, raise your hand.”

Every hand in the room shot up. Even Kurapika, in a barely conscious daze, whispered, “Send… help…” and raised one trembling finger.

Jolie gasped. “You fools. You absolute enablers. You have given me power.”

Gon cheered. “Queen Jolie! Queen Jolie!”

Leorio strode over and gently, reverently placed the crooked crown atop her glittery mess of hair. “Long may she sparkle.”

Immediately, Jolie climbed on top of the coffee table in one smooth, deranged motion and raised both arms. “PEASANTS! LISTEN TO YOUR QUEEN.”

She lets out a loud over exaggerated cough. “I speak now not only as your ruler, but as your messenger of truth. You think this is just a prom. You think this is just a party. BUT NO. This entire night… is being watched.”

Everyone stared.

“…By ALIENS.”

Gon tilted his head. “Like… the fun kind? Or the kind that disintegrate cows?”

“The sexy kind, Gon!” she cried. “The ones who put glitter in your shampoo and control your thoughts through microwave burritos!”

Killua buried his face in his hands. “Why am I still here.”

“Open your minds! Take off your shoes! They’re tracking us through shoelaces! THIS DANCE IS A DISTRACTION!”

Kurapika blinked concerningly “Please. Someone stop her.”

And then without warning Jolie pulled out a suspiciously large glitter cannon from somewhere, cranked it like a maniac, and yelled “LONG LIVE THE SPARKLE MONARCHY!”

BOOM.

A blinding explosion of rainbow glitter filled the room. Everyone screamed. The air turned into shimmering chaos. Gon was now covered head to toe in fuchsia sparkles. Killua inhaled and choked on silver stars. Leorio’s entire suit looked bedazzled by an angry unicorn. Even Kurapika, barely conscious, got a direct blast to the face and looked like a disco ghost.

And Jolie? Jolie just stood there on the table, surrounded by a storm of glitter, crown askew, looking completely unhinged and completely glorious.

Then without a word, she dove into a worm, wriggling across the floor in her prom dress, screaming “THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE AND IT HAS JAZZ HANDS!”

The room descended into unfiltered, feral chaos. Gon wheezed from laughter. Killua clapped despite himself. Leorio just watched, stunned and starry eyed.

“My girlfriend,” he whispered, brushing glitter out of his hair, “just launched a glitter bomb mid alien rant while doing the worm. I am so in love.”

Jolie flopped onto her back in victory, glitter stuck to every inch of her. She raised a fist one last time.

“TRUST NO ONE. GLITTER IS POWER. PROM IS AN INSIDE JOB.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment.

Then, slowly… they all clapped.

Because somehow, somehow, Jolie had earned that crown.

Prom Queen. Alien truther. Glitter warlord. Worm champion.

She was unstoppable.

————————————————————————-

Later That Night…

After the crowning, the punch related war crimes, and a group photo where Kurapika looked 100% done with life, Leorio tugged Jolie outside with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Prom tradition,” he said seriously, tossing her a pack of toilet paper like it was a sacred artifact. “Senior prank. It’s time.”

Jolie gasped, clutching it to her chest. “You mean… we’re gonna defile someone’s property together?”

He grinned. “We’re going to TP Biscuit Krueger’s house.”

Moments later, Jolie stood dramatically atop Killua’s shoulders like a tiny general surveying her battlefield. The moonlight glinted off her sparkly prom dress, making her look like a very glamorous warlord.

“Alright, team!” she bellowed, striking a power pose with a roll of toilet paper in each hand. “You all know the mission. Operation: Wrath of the Roll is a go!”

“Why her house again?” Kurapika asked, holding exactly one roll like he wanted to go home.

“She made me do eighty squats as emotional punishment once,” Jolie said. “It’s personal.”

Gon launched the first roll. “I’m contributing to justice!”

Killua leapt into a tree like a hyperactive ninja, unrolling a toilet paper streamer that fluttered through the branches like snowy chaos. Leorio was trying to throw but kept hitting himself in the face. Jolie tripped in her sparkly heels and had to TP from the ground like a groundhog.

Kurapika just sighed and gently placed a roll on a shrub.

“Do it with rage!” Jolie screeched. “Bisky deserves DESTRUCTION!”

They were in the middle of spelling “TOILET YOU VERY MUCH” across the roof when the porch light snapped on.

Everyone froze.

Then—

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

Bisky stomped out in fuzzy slippers and an anti aging sheet mask, wielding a dumbbell like a medieval weapon. Toilet paper streamed off her porch and stuck to her hair as her glittery rage intensified by the second.

“RUN!” Jolie screamed, grabbing her heels and booking it barefoot down the street.

Leorio scooped her up bridal style. “We’re gonna die—this is how we die!”

Killua backflipped off the roof. “Best. Prom. Ever!”

Gon waved at Bisky mid sprint. “We love you!”

Kurapika sighed. “I told you this would happen.”

“YOU’RE CLEANING THIS UP TOMORROW, YOU LITTLE MENACES!” Bisky shrieked after them, hurling a roll of Charmin like a javelin.

They disappeared into the night, laughter echoing, hearts pounding, arms full of leftover TP.

————————————————————————-

They lay on the grassy hill, panting from laughter, exhaustion, and a very real fear of being turned into protein powder by Bisky.

Jolie, still dressed like a sparkly pink cupcake, sprawled on top of Leorio with zero grace, a crushed roll of toilet paper as her pillow.

“Operation: Wrath of the Roll,” she declared, chest heaving dramatically, “was a glittery, chaotic, perfect success.”

Killua was face down in the grass. “Ten out of ten, would get chased again.”

“I think I pulled something laughing,” Gon said proudly, still holding a roll of TP like a sacred artifact.

Kurapika lay off to the side like a ghost in a tuxedo, muttering about “never again” and “should’ve stayed home.”

Leorio tightened his arm around Jolie, his prom tie half untied, his heart still thumping from the adrenaline—and maybe a little from her. “You happy now, firecracker?”

She looked up at him, eyes sparkly, cheeks flushed. “Happier than a raccoon in a vending machine.”

“…That’s… weirdly vivid.”

“Thank you.”

Then she turned her gaze to the stars, letting out a soft, dreamy sigh. “Hey, Lele…”

“Yeah?”

“You see that group of stars up there?”

He followed her finger. “Uh-huh.”

“They look like an AK-47.”

Leorio paused. “I’m sorry. What?”

She nodded with deep sincerity. “You see the long part? That’s the barrel. And the little curve—that’s the magazine. I think that one’s the buttstock. It’s majestic.”

He blinked at her. “Jolie. That’s not what people usually see in constellations.”

“I don’t care. Let me have this.” She snuggled in closer. “That’s my gun star. His name is Blammo.”

Leorio just stared at the sky for a beat. “What the hell.”

She giggled, then leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You love it.”

He blushed, smiling helplessly. “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

And then she kissed him—soft and sweet under the stars, with glitter in her hair and toilet paper stuck to one of her heels.

As they pulled apart, still grinning like fools, she whispered, “Best prom ever.”

He nodded. “And somehow, we’re not in jail. Yet.”

The night air buzzed with laughter, leftover adrenaline, and the distant echo of Bisky still shouting into the void.

————————————————————————

The front door creaked open just past midnight as Leorio and Jolie stepped inside—exhausted, glitter dusted, and slightly bruised from their chaotic escape down a grassy hill after angering Bisky.

Jolie’s tiara sat crooked on her head, her once elegant dress now rumpled with a patch of grass stains along the back. Leorio was missing his suit jacket entirely, his shirt hal -untucked and tie hanging loose. Together, they looked like the remnants of a beautiful mess—tired but glowing, like two people who had lived through something wild and unforgettable.

Neither said a word.

Jolie kicked off one heel. Then the other. Then collapsed face first onto the couch like a dramatic starfish. “I can’t feel my shins,” she mumbled into a cushion.

Leorio chuckled tiredly, locking the door behind them. “You used them to scale a drainpipe and swan dive off Bisky’s shed. I’m not surprised.”

“I have no regrets,” she said into the upholstery.

Eventually, they dragged themselves to the bedroom like broken dolls, Jolie still in her sparkly prom dress, Leorio still in his half suited, half wrecked glory.

She flopped onto the bed and rolled dramatically toward him, her eyes still glittery and a little sleepy. “Don’t make me take it off. I want to sleep in this. Let me feel like a fancy cake just a little longer.”

Leorio smirked and gently joined her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You’re the prettiest cake I’ve ever seen.”

She sighed happily, curling into his chest. “You’re the best boyfriend ever, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he murmured into her hair, pulling the blanket over them both. “I know.”

She smiled, eyes fluttering shut as she burrowed closer.

The room was still, the chaos of the night faded into soft breaths and steady heartbeats. Wrapped in each other’s arms, dressed in their wrinkled prom clothes, they lay tangled beneath the covers—warm, safe, and full of something that felt a lot like forever.

And as they drifted off to sleep, the world outside didn’t matter.

They had each other.

And that was more than enough.

[skaruresonic]

we shall have a spring wedding, lotus moon start

[otherworldoutpost]

How to Grow a Rope (And Other Mandatory Survival Skills)

Hello again, readers,

It’s official—I passed probation! The Chief confirmed it via paperless fax (which, yes, is just a fax machine that growls and projects expressions directly into your retinas). Their verdict? A thumbs-up and what might have been a smile. Or indigestion. Hard to tell when your boss communicates in telepathic emoticons.

Anyway, I feel I must give you all a bit of an update from the breakroom zipline. I survived the breakroom zipline! My reward? A semi-sentient rope burn (it keeps whispering ‘worth it’) and a shiny new badge: ‘Zipline for Beginners (No Deaths Yet)’. The Chief was so proud, they manifested a single confetti ball over my desk. It exploded into glitter that spells ‘CONGRATS’ backwards when viewed in a mirror.

After breaking out of the break room, I received another paperless fax containing the week’s itinerary of chores. Nothing too strange, my first task was to explore the campsite and make sure that the “Legion of survivalist scouts” had safely exited the camp. Now, as you would think, dear reader, I do not know what these scouts look like, but the Chief, in their infinite wisdom, told me I can spot them by the little red feather on their berets.

So I collected my Ranger pack and off I went down the track, and I stumbled upon the beret-wearing scouts with the red plume of feathers and made a friend in the Leader Richard Johndoe, he coaxed me into sitting by the fire with marshmallows where I earned my 's’more lore telling and lying ’ badge. It was quite simple, really. Leader Johndoe was telling me and the Scouts his time as a Royal Marine, and I told him about the time I was an Air Cadet and nearly lost my walking boot to Quick Mud.

I think this impressed him and he probably felt a little underqualified as he asked me to go back to my outpost, and it was a good job I did considering on the way back I found a cave full of berets—red feathers still attached, still perched on skeletons in suspiciously ‘at ease’ poses. Now, I’m no forensic expert, but I’m pretty sure wool doesn’t fossilise. I did what any rational person would: gathered them all, dumped them in Lost & Found, and ate three marshmallows to cope.

Rolling onto the next day, I was told I was doing a talk about Ropes and how to grow them with the scouts before they venture into the Riddler’s Cave. Turns out, rope-growing is 10% horticulture, 90% negotiation. Leader Johndoe kept insisting, ‘ropes don’t grow, they’re made,’ but then the Static Cord in the breakroom hissed at him, and he shut right up. Here’s what I learned:

Natural Rope Varieties of the Outpost

Whispering Vine Ropes

"Harvested from the Perimeter Fence (do not listen to their advice)."

Static Cord

"Grows in the breakroom corners. Only visible at 3:03 AM. Resists knot-tying out of spite."

Chief-Approved Synthetic

"Issued in khaki. Glows when near dimensional weak points."

Pretty neat stuff, right? Well, Leader Johndoe said he would teach me how to grow them once he finishes surviving the Riddler’s cave.

The rest of the week was blissfully uneventful—just chores like ‘reorganise the vending machine by eeriness level’ and ‘defrost the Chief’s coffee mug’ (it was never frozen). But before I go, here’s a mandatory memo from the Chief.

This is Ranger J signing off - See weird, Say weird, Stay weird.

EDIT FROM CHIEF: Ranger J’s probationary grade: B+. Points deducted for excessive marshmallow consumption during fieldwork.

[liaromancewriter]

After The Party

Premise: As one year ends and another begins, Max and Sienna treasure a quiet moment.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Sienna Trinh x M!OC (Max Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 475

A/N: Submission for @choicesholidays Winter Holiday event and @choicesjanuary2025 prompt New Year's Eve.

Her feet ached, the souvenir of a successful party. They had celebrated the end of one year and the beginning of another with equal fervor, and now it was time to let the night settle.

Sienna Valentine slipped her aching feet out of the golden stilettos that had sparkled under the lights, elongating her legs and making her feel effortlessly sexy.

She leaned down, massaging the tender arches, and her lips curved into a weary smile when her fingers brushed a stray piece of glitter on the hardwood floor—a tiny remnant of the magic they’d created tonight.

In the stillness, she could hear her husband’s voice—warm but efficient—as Max ushered the last of their guests out. Her ears were attuned to the faint click of the closing door and the steady rhythm of his footsteps as he made his way to join her on the living room couch.

Sienna remembered another new year’s eve party four years ago. She had been alone when the clock struck midnight, and fireworks exploded across the Boston sky. Even if she’d wanted to kiss anyone, her heart hadn’t been in it.

There was only one whose presence made her heart flutter with anticipation. She had wanted all her midnights to be with him, and knew they would always be hers if she’d had the courage to ask for them.

And now they were, and always would be.

As hosts, they had mingled throughout the evening, ensuring their guests were well cared for. But as midnight approached, they instinctively gravitated toward each other.

The final seconds ticked away, champagne bottles popped and confetti rained down, but in that fleeting moment, they only had eyes for each other.

As the ball dropped on the TV screen, their lips met in a tender kiss. Max cupped her face in his hands, tilting his head to deepen the connection. Sienna wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, her fingers clutching the back of his shirt as she drew him closer.

All too soon, the demands of others pulled them apart, tugging them in opposite directions. His parting grin promised it wasn’t the end but a vow of more to come.

Now, with the party behind them, she nestled against him on the couch and savored the stillness of the night and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

A dull throb pulsed through her aching feet. Sienna started to reach down, but Max was there first. Shifting his position, he gently lifted her feet onto his lap. His hands were warm and steady, pressing circles into her heel, then longer strokes along her arch, releasing the tension with every touch.

Sienna sighed, her body melting into the couch as her eyes fluttered closed. In this quiet moment, surrounded by love, everything felt exactly as it should be.

----------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash @lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @loreofyore

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Max & Sienna only: @storyofmychoices

[noodls-in-the-bowl]

🤯🤯🤯🤯

I-huh? Why is the ball of confetti exploding?

[rubiedmoon]

An Explosive Wake-Up Call

I should have known the second I woke up and smelled smoke that one of my brothers were up to something. Again. 

Rolling out of bed, I grabbed my robe and padded down the crooked staircase of the Burrow, rubbing sleep from my eyes. It was early — far too early for the usual chaos of a Weasley morning — and yet here I was, following the scent of something suspicious. 

When I reached the kitchen, I stopped in the doorway and just blinked. The table was covered with what looked like… mini fireworks? Glowing, sparking little trinkets and bright paper-wrapped objects. In the middle of it all stood Fred, wand in hand, grinning from ear to ear like a cat who’d gotten into the cream. 

“Fred,” I sighed, arms crossed over my chest. “Mum’s going to have an absolute fit if she comes down and sees this mess.” 

He turned, beaming when he spotted me. “YN! Just the person I wanted to see.” He picked up a round, purple ball and tossed it lightly between his hands. “Behold — the first prototype of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes’ new Pocket-Bang Bombs. George and I cooked them up last night.” 

“Clearly,” I muttered, eyeing the scorch marks on the counter. “Do I dare ask if they actually work?” 

Fred’s grin widened. “Only one way to find out!” 

“Fred, no—” But it was too late. With a flick of his wand, he sent the little bomb sailing through the air. It hit the far wall with a loud BANG! and a burst of violet smoke. I coughed, waving the cloud away as Fred doubled over laughing. 

“Brilliant! George is going to love this,” he said between chuckles. 

I gave him my best stern look — which, let’s be honest, probably wasn’t very effective. “You know, for only one twin, you cause enough trouble for the both of you.” 

He ruffled my hair affectionately. “That’s what little sisters are for — to remind us when we’re being too brilliant.” 

I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. For all the trouble he and George caused, I loved having them around. Life was never dull with them in the house. 

“Alright, genius,” I said, grabbing a cloth to start cleaning the soot. “At least let me help you hide the evidence before Mum wakes up.” 

Fred gave me a mischievous wink. “Deal. And after that — fancy helping me test the rest?” 

I groaned, but laughed despite myself. “You’re impossible.” 

He slung an arm over my shoulders. “That’s why you love me.” 

And honestly — he wasn’t wrong. But I was absolutely NOT helping him test the others. I prefer to stay on our mum’s good side. 

The moment I turned toward the sink, another loud pop echoed behind me. I froze. 

"Fred…" I said slowly, not daring to look back. 

He cleared his throat. “That one went off on its own. Which is... honestly a little concerning. Might need to tweak the trigger charm.” 

I turned just in time to see a yellow ball twitching slightly on the table before it launched itself into the air and exploded mid-flight, showering us with confetti that smelled suspiciously like peppermint. 

Fred ducked, then peeked up with a wild grin. “Unintentional festivity. Bonus feature!” 

I whacked him on the arm with the cloth I was holding. “At this rate, Mum’s going to think Christmas came early and a banshee brought it.” 

But Fred was already scooping a few of the bombs into a small sack, muttering notes to himself about reaction times and secondary effects. I knew that look — the gears in his brain were turning too fast to stop now. 

“I should’ve stayed in bed,” I muttered, though there wasn’t much heat in it. 

“Too late now, YNN,” he chirped, tossing the sack over his shoulder. “You're awake, you're covered in soot, and you're already an accomplice.” 

“Excuse me?” I said, straightening up. 

He held up a soot-stained hand. “Soot. Evidence. You're in it, sister dearest.” 

Before I could protest further, footsteps thudded overhead. Both Fred and I froze. 

“…Did George or Ron wake up?” I whispered. 

Fred shook his head, eyes wide. “George never stomps and Ron is bound to sleep through anything.” 

We exchanged a single look of sheer panic. Mum. 

"Scatter!" Fred hissed, grabbing a handful of the Pocket-Bangs and diving toward the pantry. 

“What about me?” I whisper-yelled, trying to scoop soot into the cloth faster. 

“Improvise!” he called from inside the pantry, already hidden behind a stack of potatoes. 

The footsteps grew louder. 

With no time left, I did the only thing I could think of — I flopped down into a chair, pulled my robe tight, and yawned dramatically just as Mum entered the kitchen. 

“YN?” she asked, squinting. “What on earth—what is that smell?” 

I blinked at her sleepily. “Morning, Mum. I think the fireplace backdrafted a bit and then some. I was just about to clean it.” 

She sniffed, eyes narrowing as they scanned the room. The scorch mark on the wall. The faint scent of peppermint. The glitter in my hair. Her brow furrowed deeper. 

“…Where’s the twins?” 

I shrugged, schooling my face into innocence. “Still asleep, I think?” 

At that exact moment, a soft snap echoed from inside the pantry — followed by a sharp pop! and a tiny orange flame shooting under the door. Fred made a small unexpecting sound that indicated just where he was hiding. 

Mum’s eyes widened. 

I winced. 

“FREDERICK GIDEON WEASLEY!” 

The pantry door creaked open just enough for Fred’s head to peek out, looking like a boy caught with both hands in the treacle tart. 

“Mum! What a surprise,” he said brightly, then flinched as she stormed across the kitchen. 

I stood, brushing confetti off my lap, trying to fade into the background as Mum started on a tirade that included phrases like “irresponsible use of magic” and “not under my roof.” 

Fred mouthed Run at me behind her back. 

I pointed to myself with a raised eyebrow, then the door. 

He nodded fervently. 

I mouthed You owe me before slipping quietly toward the stairs. I’d nearly made it when Mum’s voice rang out again. 

“And you, young lady, don’t think I don’t know when you’re helping your brother hide his mess!” 

I froze mid-step. 

Fred was laughing again — even through the scolding — and despite myself, I couldn’t help smiling. Life in the Weasley household was loud, unpredictable, and frequently covered in soot. 

But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.