#NoHurtNovember
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saltycucumbers.bsky.social
My submission for the day one prompt "plushie", titled "Soft". Enjoy the November stolitz fluff ❤️

#HelluvaBoss #HelluvaBoss3 #NoHurtNovember #Stolitz
November 1, 2026 at 11:00 PM
saltycucumbers.bsky.social
My submission for the prompt "plushie", titled "Soft". Enjoy the fluff ❤️

#HelluvaBoss #HelluvaBoss3 #NoHurtNovember #Stolitz
November 1, 2026 at 10:56 PM
saltycucumbers.bsky.social
Day 3 drabble! Topic was “laughter” and my piece is titled “Mister Fixer.” Silly NSFW Stolitz fluff. Enjoy 💕

#HelluvaBoss #HelluvaBoss3 #NoHurtHellvember #NoHurtNovember #Stolitz

Thanks as always to @pipsqueakparker.bsky.social for putting this together 🫶🏽
November 3, 2026 at 9:23 PM
girasolel.bsky.social
I should be asleep, but instead I took the plunge and decided to take part in #NoHurtNovember ❤️

I was planning to post on AO3 and run, but with the site down, looks like I’m forced to participate on here. Eek, please be kind 🙏

Day 1: Plushie

#HelluvaBoss #Stolitz
November 3, 2026 at 2:42 AM
girasolel.bsky.social
I wrote my next #NoHurtHellvember during my lunch break today. Turns out this is a lot of fun, I recommend others to take part 😁

So here is my one pager for the third prompt, Domestic🫰

#HelluvaBoss #Stolitz #NoHurtNovember
November 3, 2026 at 4:01 PM
iii-mushroom.bsky.social
Unpolished, unbeta'd, one day late! But, better late than never, here's my entry for #Day1 of @pipsqueakparker.bsky.social #HelluvaBoss #NoHurtNovember, with #Stolas and #Via and accompanying art! 💖

Warning: spoilers for season 3
Art of Octavia from Helluva Boss looking at Stolas' imp plushie, with a "sell" tag on it. She portals it to the I.M.P. office in a wrapped box labeled "Dad". Stolas holds the imp plushie with a fond, emotional look on his face. Another day, another lesson with Vassago that didn't totally suck, thought Via to herself with a soft, private smile. Mastering that illusion spell was fun, even if she had to cast it with the traditional, ancient sigil. The young princess turned a corner of the ice-covered palace, in her own world with the happy memories with her father and mentor at the Museum of Spells. She almost didn't catch the end table with the out-of-place red blob. Almost. Doubling back, the princess examined the odd object until it finally clicked. This was that old plushie from those paintings of her father when he was little. The imp plushie which was a constant in his life, or at least in all of those now-gone paintings. Dad never talked about his childhood much, but if those paintings, and its presence here, were any indicator of its importance, then he must have cared about it very much. The paintings were all gone, to where Via doesn't know, but this poor thing somehow survived. Picking it up, Via could see the auction tag still on it:a stark contrast to the plushie's worn appearance. Well-loved, despite being abandoned, as usual. No, not abandoned, Via shakes her head. He regrets how he left, he still cares about her, and she's allowing him back in her life at her own pace because of the accountability he demonstrated at the museum. The familiar exhaustion fills her after talking herself out of the same spiral of the last year. Things will be okay, they will be okay. The princess looks at the old plushie in her hands, caressing it softly. If he didn't really abandon her, if he regrets how he left her, what else does he regret leaving? Are there things here he really cared about? Books, those jars of fuzzy stuff, this thing? It is too early to be dodging flying trash, Stolas thinks as he unlocks the door to I.M.P. and enters the too-small-for-him office. Behind him, Blitz is happily discussing ways to continue profiting from the hype their business got after the Judge Jiner episode. The business-owner, in his own world of marketing, strolls into his office, to "market-plan" he said, before closing the door. Smiling, the Goetia turns to the desk, ready to spend the day working on his erotica in between hits. He went to a writing activity at the library around the corner from Blitz's apartment the other night, and it sent his creative (and other) juices flowing at the ideas! Like what to do with this black and pink box- oh! Stolas glances around, looking for anyone who could have placed this on the reception desk. Moxie and Millie are absent, taking a half-day to discuss which cradle would be better for a newborn; Loona stayed at the apartment, sleeping in after a late-night at the club. It was just him and Blitz in the office, and the business-owner was locked away in his office. If the imp wanted to gift the owl anything, he would have said something, right? Giving up on finding the gift-giver in the office, Stolas opts for picking up the box. It was wrapped in a black paper with a shimmer to it, like the depths of space. It had a pinky-purple ribbon, and a tag sticking up from the center. In a familiar cursive, it spelled "Dad". Trying to not tear up at the thought of his daughter thinking of him while shopping, as well as the discomfort at it possibly being something taxidermy from that Stylish Occult, the owl excitedly rips the paper and opens the box. Oh. Oh, his dear starfire. Gently, he sets the box down as he removes the old plushie. He vaguely remembered seeing it on Andrealphus' auction website, as so much good had happened after that day. The echoes of sadness at the idea of some other Goetia buying it comes back to him like a soft breath, and, just as quickly, is exhaled with the warm, bubbly comfort of knowing this came from his daughter. She thought of him, is starting to forgive him, and slowly, piece by piece, his broken heart is starting to heal.
November 2, 2026 at 2:57 PM
iii-mushroom.bsky.social
Day 2 of @pipsqueakparker.bsky.social 's #HelluvaBoss #NoHurtNovember drabble challenge: #Domestic, plus some more art 💕

With a slight season 3 spoiler!
Art of Stolas, Blitz, and Loona from Helluva Boss. They're in their kitchen. Blitz is making grilled cheese, and they're talking happily. Stolas sits at the little kitchen table, tapping his pen against his notepad. The blank page glares up at him, expectantly waiting for his pen to fill the pages with his words. Words that just aren't coming. The exiled prince has been staring at the blank page, mesmerized, paralyzed, for, Gods, too long, now honestly. Writing is still the hobby which brings him the most joy lately. He always loved losing himself, both his mind and body, to a good book, especially those of a more... filthy connotation. Even with his dates with Vassago increasing in occurrence (something the owl finds he quite enjoys!), taking the time to write out his thoughts and let loose creatively, with no bounds but his vocabulary (which is near-boundless) and the speed of his pen, has been a sanctuary of sanity and peace after... everything. But lately, something has been off... his mind wanders more when he sits down to write... CRASH! The door slammed open, freezing then restarting the poor, estranged prince's demonic heart. The brash voice of his not-ex fills the room in the moments after: Loonie, sweetie, be a dear and help your dad carry these groceries in, will you? Daddy can't move his fingers." "Fine, but only because this pile is too damn high. How'd you even get that many bags in your arms at once anyway?" A snicker, one which Stolas can now recognize as fondness, from the goth preceded the pair's full entry into the apartment, with Loona, now carrying what appeared to be two dozen grocery bags, coming into view. Warmth fills Stolas as he observes the familiar song-and-dance of the adoptive father-daughter duo on grocery day. While he was hoping to get a few pages of notes, or even prose, down in the rare peace that comes with having the apartment to himself, Stolas had to admit: the apartment was a much warmer and happier place to be when Blitz and Loona were home and together. "Christ on a stick, Blitz, how much cheese do you really need? This has got to be unhealthy," the young Hellhound joked as she unloaded the contents of the grocery bags into their proper place in the kitchen. Blitz, acting as if he wasn't just being crushed by the weight of two dozen grocery bags, pranced into the kitchen with his usual confidence that never failed to bleed over into Stolas, if even a tiny bit these days. The imp snatched a package of pre-sliced cheese from the bag the Hellhound was currently sorting, and opened it, snacking on its contents. "Hey! Now, Loonie, you know cheese is essential for a growing imp like me. That Celsius shit's a fucking important vitamin! You need it to grow strong bones or some cheesy, parental shit like that." A hoot of delight jumped out of the owl at the unintended error. "You mean calcium, Blitz, and it's a mineral. Dairy products have many beneficial vitamins and minerals, like potassium! Celsius is a measure of temperature among humans, as well as a rather popular energy drink." Before the usual worry of being scolded for being a know-it-all could set in, Blitz chimed with a fond, "Thanks, big bird. I knew you'd know what I meant. See, Loonie? Cheese has important minerals like butt-ass-ium! That's gonna be my new favorite mineral." A cheeky grin danced across the imp's face as he mispronounced the mineral and paired it with a little butt sashay, sneaking a glance over at a smiling Stolas. Before Stolas could respond, Blitz turned and started rummaging in the cabinet nearest him, pulling out bread, butter, and a skillet. "Aaand now I'm craving grill' cheese. Anyone else? Loonie? Stolssss?" "Pass. I'd rather not watch you char my food again." "Suit yourself, Loonie. Stolas? Want a taste of my sexy, gorgous grub?" Stolas let another giggle slip out, a soft 'hoot-hoot', which he tried covering again, but to no avail. "I would love one, Blitz, thank you. Shall I make us some tea?" "Already on it," chimed Loona from the other side of the kitchen, working on what now Stolas can see as filling the kettle and preparing three mugs. The conversation between the three carried on in kind: joking, a little rough around the edges, but full of care. Blitz only burned the sandwiches a little, one more so than the other, which he took, claiming the char made his hot sauce "kick extra ass". Loona was content with just her tea, even setting her phone down to chime in once the mug was in her hands. The trio wordlessly agreed to eat their meal and drink their tea in the cramped quarters of the kitchen, because it was there that they could really feel like a family, or almost like one. Regardless of where shit sends them, they'll always have this, like they'll always have each other.
November 3, 2026 at 2:46 PM