Please see the below pinned post for most of the common questions I receive <3 Know that I am ALWAYS open to PM's and Requests!
That being said, while I believe this blog is a Minors DNI type of blog, I am powerless to stop anyone from scrolling through and reading. As an author, I can only request that if you are under the age of 18, please do not interact with this blog.
The floor is always open for requests! When you send in your requests, please be sure to make them as detailed as possible. I write for pretty much everyone within the Hazbin series, though I cannot promise I will be quick about anything sent in. Creativity sparks at the most random of times! Rest assure if you send me something I don't write on, I will either direct message you or if its anonymous, I will respond to the request. No message or request will go actively ignored- that's just not who I am.
My process is simple: I receive a request, I put it in a running google doc and when inspo hits, I yank the request out of the google doc and put it into works!
Please bear in mind in Outside the Office, it is a strictly romantic relationship with Val in the story, platonic with Valentino and Vox, and platonic/family with Lucifer so I'll stick to writing those relationships as such. That being said, I encourage all the creativeness, slices of life, day to day situations, fluff and kinks.
One Final Thing:
The list of things I won't write about is minimal. As of right now, there is only one item on that list: I will not write sexually explicit content involving underage readers. While I believe this blog is a Minors DNI type of blog, I am powerless to stop anyone from scrolling through and reading. At most, I can request that you don't interact if you're over the age of 18. It's the reality of the internet. So please, out of respect for me as an author, do not request content involving things I've noted I won't write about or interact with this blog if you're under the age of 18.
The list has grown slightly. I also don't write incest- though I haven't received any of those requests, I wanted to make that distinction clear.
As always, it might take me a hot minute, but please send in those requests!
Hope to hear from y'all!
UPDATES:
I know the master list links don't work, I'm in the SLOW process of redoing them. So far I'm through OTO and Valentino, Vox and Velvette's Master Lists. If you come across a link on either of these that don't work PLEASE let me know!
Due to a link limit on a post I have updated my master list to subcategories. Please note that the Vee's will appear across fics, but I organized them based on the primary Vee requested/involved in the story.
Outside The Office Master List
Currently Posted: Chapters 1- 40
Master List Valentino
Master List Vox
Master List: Velvette
MASTER LIST: LUCIFER
HEAD CANNONS:
Valentino's Son x Angel Dust
Valentino's Daughter and Vox's Daughter
Valentino's Daughter x Valentino (Similar)
Unlabled (to be sorted later)
Valentino x Teen Daughter (First Boyfriend)
Valentino x Daughter (I'll go work for you then)
Valentino's Daughter x Angel Dust (Best Friends Because Dad said so)
⟢ PICK THREE DETAILS MAXIMUM! your reader doesn't need to know every piece of furniture. Give them the broken clock on the mantle, the smell of cigarettes embedded in the couch, the water stain on the ceiling shaped like Italy. Their brain will fill in the rest. You're not writing an insurance inventory!!!
⟢ Use the senses people forget. Everyone does sight and sound, but what about: the metallic taste of fear, the way humidity makes your clothes stick, the phantom itch of being watched, that gross feeling when you touch something unexpectedly wet. GET WEIRD WITH IT
⟢ MOTION IN YOUR DESCRIPTIONS!! (Please?) don't just tell me the curtains are blue, tell me they're "shuddering in the AC blast" or "hanging limp like they've given up." Static description is a sleep aid. Make things MOVE
⟢ Your narrator's voice should COLOR everything! A depressed character won't describe the sunset as "beautiful mauve and amber streaking across the sky," they'll think "the sun's dying again, doing its whole performance art thing with the clouds"
⟢ Stop with the mirror descriptions! :( "She looked in the mirror and saw her auburn hair and green eyes" NO. Banned. Forbidden. Find literally any other way. Have another character notice. Show through action. Slip details in naturally. The mirror thing is lazy and we all know it
⟢ Similes and metaphors: COMMIT OR DON'T DO IT! "like" is not a get-out-of-jail-free card. "Her anger was like a storm" is BORING. "Her anger rolled in with the methodical inevitability of a hurricane, and he was standing in a trailer park in Florida" now we're TALKING
✧ Relapse doesn't mean failure. Recovery isn't linear. Your character can be doing great and then have a bad day/week/month. It's part of the process, not the end of it.
✧ Cravings don't just disappear. Years into recovery and something can still trigger that want. It gets easier but it doesn't fully go away for everyone.
✧ The substance isn't the whole problem. Your character's probably self-medicating something, trauma, mental illness, unbearable circumstances. Taking away the substance doesn't fix what's underneath.
✧ Withdrawal is hell. Not just "feeling bad", it's physical torture. Shaking, sweating, nausea, pain, sometimes actual danger depending on the substance. Your character isn't just sad, they're ILL.
✧ Sobriety is boring at first. All your coping mechanisms, social circles, and ways to have fun involved the substance. Now what? Your character has to rebuild everything.
✧ People treat you differently. Some are supportive. Some are judgmental. Some ask invasive questions. Some don't trust you anymore. The stigma is real and it sucks.
✧ Triggers are everywhere. Certain places, people, smells, times of day, emotions. Your character's constantly navigating a minefield of things that make them want to use.
✧ You lost time. Months or years where you weren't really present. Relationships damaged. Opportunities missed. There's grief for the person you could have been.
✧ Recovery is active work. Meetings, therapy, building new habits, sitting with uncomfortable feelings. It's not passive. Your character's putting in effort every single day.
✧ You're not the same person after. Recovery changes you. You can't go back to who you were before addiction, only forward to who you're becoming. That's scary and hopeful at the same time.
If you want to write you need to read. Read everything you can get your hands on. Not just fiction from your genre. Read other genres, read articles, read the paper, read things you disagree with, read the same plot over and over because it’s that good, read pamphlets, read academic literature, read children’s books, read smutty erotica, read sweet coming of age, read jokes on social media, read posts made by friends and strangers, read texts, read folklore, read experimental texts, read lyrics, read plaques at the park, read info texts in museums, read books no one else has read, read reviews for the most popular books, read, read, read.
Read anything and everything you can get your hands on and let it all sink in until the written word becomes a language so ingrained in yourself that nothing is foreign to you.
✧ Being poor is expensive. You can't buy in bulk to save money. You pay fees for not having enough in your account. You buy cheap shoes that wear out fast instead of good ones that last.
✧ The math is constant. Every purchase is a calculation. Can I afford this? What can I skip? Is this worth it? Your character's always doing mental accounting.
✧ You get creative. Meals from whatever's left in the pantry. Fixing things with duct tape and hope. Making do because you have to.
✧ Shame is real. Your character might lie about why they can't go out. Make excuses. Hide their situation because poverty is treated like a moral failure.
✧ Small luxuries feel huge. A coffee from an actual coffee shop instead of gas station. Buying name-brand something. These aren't nothing, they're big deals.
✧ You're always tired. Working multiple jobs, irregular hours, the stress of never having enough, it's exhausting. Your character's running on empty.
✧ Future planning is hard. When you're worried about making rent, thinking about retirement or savings feels impossible. You're in survival mode.
✧ Other people don't get it. Friends who casually suggest expensive activities. People who think you're bad with money when really there's just not enough of it.
✧ The system works against you. Need an ID to get a job but need money to get an ID. Need an address to get assistance but you're homeless. Catch-22s everywhere.
✧ IT'S NOT A CHARACTER FLAW. Your character isn't poor because they're lazy or stupid. Circumstances, bad luck, systemic issues, poverty is complex and it's not about moral worth.
bartender finding a guest curled up, sleeping, under the bar
coworkers also being neighbours but one only works nightshift and the other only works dayshift and they keep meeting in the hallway
cosplayers show up at a con dressed as characters from a ship and everyone keeps thinking they’re together and wants pictures with both
ikea worker asked by frantic single parent to find their lost kid
their pets banged at the park and now they need to figure out the custody arrangement
interrupting a date with someone else that is going terribly, pretending to be a friend and walking them home
set up on a blind date but accidentally chatting up the wrong person
flirting to get into an event when they have no invite, but deciding that this is actually more fun than the original goal
our balconies are right next to each other and i tried to have a calm moment of peace sO CAN YOU TURN THE FUCKING MUSIC DOWN, YOU FU-- wait why are you crying? oh no, did i interrupt your main character moment?
• A character almost admits they were wrong and then pivots
• Two people sitting in a car after an argument, engine off, neither leaving
• Someone practicing a speech in the mirror and hating how it sounds
• A character lying for someone they resent
• An inside joke that no longer feels funny
• A public setting where private tension is simmering
• Someone seeing their ex unexpectedly and performing indifference
• A character giving advice they absolutely do not follow
• A confession interrupted by something mundane
• A person rereading old messages they shouldn’t
• A gift that misses the mark completely
• A character realizing they’ve outgrown someone mid-conversation
• Someone saying “It’s fine” and meaning “I will remember this forever”
• A moment where a character notices they are no longer the favorite
• Two people who used to be close struggling to find a topic
If your story feels stuck, it likely needs friction. Not explosions. Just a little pressure.
Hi, I love your valentino daughter scenarios so much 💗
Can I request valentino with daughter who brings home her boyfriend (maybe even fiancé) for the first time and they have dinner with all the V ?
Thank you, and keep up the fabulous writing!!
Hi there @scoobyrewritex
Sorry this took me forever and a day! I couldn’t decide which direction to take it in, so I went with…well, you’ll see.
I do hope it was worth the wait!
<3
Mandy
Growing up, dinner was my favorite time of the day. My father, Valentino, took great pride in telling stories about his day while asking me about mine. My Aunt Velvette told me all about the latest fashions and my Uncle Vox kept us all up on the news. Most of the time we laughed more than we ate, and it was the one part of the day we all spent together, with no distractions other than the food in front of us.
Tonight’s dinner wasn’t one of those.
But here we were. Myself, Valentino, my Uncle Vox and my Aunt Velvette, all crowded around the dinner table. I shouldn’t say crowded. The penthouse dining room could have comfortably fit way more than the four of us. But the energy my three guardians emitted made it feel like every seat was filled.
My boyfriend of three months seemed oblivious to their intensity and seemed content to eat whatever my Dad’s Fizzerolli put in front of him.
“So, Dad, how was work?” I asked as I took a sip of the drink Fizzerolli brought to me. “Busy day?”
“Speaking of work, what is it you do?” My Aunt Velvette directed towards my boyfriend who sat, clearly unbothered by the energy of the room.
“Besides school? I have a small side job. Working for one of the other overlords. It doesn’t take up too much time or anything, but he pays well. So…”
“Which overlord?” Vox interrupted.
He paused midchew to answer. “Alastor.”
Vox spit his drink. Velvette cackled and Valentino smirked. I could feel the color draining from my face as Vox turned to me. I knew my Uncle had issues with Alastor. I didn’t know my boyfriend worked for that demon.
“You work for Alastor?” I squeaked out.
He looked confused. “Yeah. So what?”
Before I could react, Fizzeroli had what I assumed was my now ex boyfriend scooped and tossed out the door. I stood up in a flash.
“Uncle Vox! You can’t do that!”
He sat down calmly. “I can. And I will.” He turned to Valentino and Vox. “This is what happens when you don’t let me background check the demons she dates.”
As they broke out bickering, I stood, seething in frustration. A few seconds passed and I let out a screech of frustration before stalked down the hallway to my room.
This is a quick write of all the thoughts scratching in my mind, begging to get written. Big trigger warning for eating disorders. Either y’all will like it or hate it- but let me know one way or another!
<3
Mandy
The drug flew through hell faster than anything Valentino had ever seen.
His girls were on it. Not that they needed to be, but it kept them slim and smiling throughout every production. In a moment of curiosity, he had tried it himself, injecting the sweet substance directly into the nonexistent fat under his arm. Over the course of the next few days, the hunger cues vanished. He knew he already teetered on the very edge of eating disorder territory, and this drug could easily push him into the danger zone. As the week passed, he toyed with the vial in his hand, debating on the next. Truth be told, it was addicting.
Just a little touch up, the voice whispered. It won’t matter in the long run. After all, whats one more injection?
A younger version of himself might have let her in. Might have made the choice to slip another needle under his skin, to falsely promise himself only once more. Instead, he threw the vial as hard as he could against the wall. As the glass shattered, he swore the room grew warmer.
The floor below him, Velvette stood, admiring her models. The drug Valentino had his employees on was working- each one of his girls seemed to glimmer. Maybe it was the extra weight they seemed to lose. Maybe it was the energy they seemed to have. Whatever it was, it was working.
No sooner than the thought crossed her mind than Velvette felt the familiar chill slice through her studio. A demon so powerful, none of them dared to get into a contract with her. An entity who preyed on all souls- alive and dead. One she herself had battled so many times, she lost count.
I can be here for you, too. Velvette heard the voice whisper, wrapping the poisonous words inside her head. Lose those extra pounds. Trim up that face.
Much like Valentino, Velvette wasn’t so easily persuaded.
“Fuck off. Who let you in here?” She snarled at the all too familiar voice. “You’re not welcome in this tower.”
She swore the studio temperature rose the second the voice vanished.
“Fucking Ana,” she mumbled before turning to her employees, her eyes scanning each and every one. The line between eating disordered and good workers was very, very thin. But someone invited her in here. And now, Velvette needed to figure out who.
Taking out her phone, she dialed Vox’s number. They had a protocol for this. It involved therapists, nutritionists, and in depth time spent with every single employee. It was a pain in the ass, but it would keep their business secure.
“We have a problem,” she told him. “A big one.”
As she stood in her bathroom in the penthouse, Reader pulled the drug from the vial. Three weeks had passed since she had gotten her hands on the drug. Three weeks of injections, directly into her stomach. Three weeks of trying so hard to make her body feel worthy.
“That’s a good girl,” Ana cooed. “After all, what do you need food for anyway? You’re fat. Valentino’s daughter shouldn’t be fat. As a matter of fact, up the dosage. You have a lot of weight to lose.”
Without hesitation, Reader pulled the extra drug. Ana was right, after all. She had so many flaws, but being fat was one she could fix.
“Thank Lucifer I have you here,” she whispered to the disembodied voice. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
As long as you can keep a secret, I’ll never leave, the voice whispered back.
