#as i write them in a qpr

[flickerintwilights]

shared some of my writing in a workshop and someone commented on the mention of a female background character having a wife and son “I love the LGBTQIA+ representation here” and uh, I literally have a nonbinary major character using they/she pronouns in the light of day but okay lesbians I guess

[wren-kitchens]

it- to be clear, joel kind of knew from the start. 

he’s seen the way etho puts on that pathetic little pout, and that oh-so-sad voice that he knows doesn’t actually mean anything other than etho wants something and thinks joel will probably say no otherwise. joel noticed all of this immediately- it's not like etho's subtle about it, is he? in his defence, gem didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary- or at least, she didn't mention it, so joel wasn't super sure if it actually meant anything weird. and- okay, yeah, fine- etho's stupid little voice and everything may be somewhat effective on him.

of course, joel did spot that mischievous little look on etho's face as he took joel's hand and led him to the bridge, because- well, how could you not? he didn’t seem to be up to anything awful, and he didn't look guilty- like that one time he tried to convince joel into giving him free glow ink. besides, he was still going on about how mean bdubs was to him, and joel didn’t really want to miss it; etho's very funny when he’s offended.

maybe it was a little bit his fault, because when etho started hanging back a little, joel sort of stepped in front of him on instinct. it's not like he died or anything- bdubs didn’t even die and he was standing right on the trap, so it's not like there was any consequence. but- yeah, joel didn’t actually consider that etho was backing away from a danger, he just kind of assumed he was nervous. which isn't far fetched- that guy seems to be constantly nervous about something or other in the life series. 

but- well, whilst gem was laughing at tango and bdubs, joel didn’t even think to be mad at etho for leading him into a trap—even if it was a shit one. frankly, he- well. it's really very stupid, actually, but- he was just. kind of glad to be holding etho's hand still. which is- that's not weird! y’know, they’re soulmates, he'll have you know; that's a normal thing for soulmates to do. if you think that's weird, go have a look at tango and jimmy- they’re the weird ones. not joel. he’s normal. 

gem made fun of him on the way back, because of course she noticed that they were holding hands. not that there's anything weird about it- gem is wrong here. it- she didn’t have a soulmate, so- y’know. she doesn’t know what normal soulmate stuff is. that's a her problem. 

anyway. she didn’t seem to see the way etho squeezed his hand when they were leaving, so. it's whatever.

[pearlofamphitrite]

“I’ve been told,” Alastor started slowly, “that I’m not suitable for any sort of relationship.”

Lucifer placed a foot into the overlord’s lap, leaning against the armrest of the couch. Strands of his golden hair were caressing the pale flesh of his face. A stark contrast from their usual slicked back form. Alastor thought they looked lovely.

“Romantic relationships?”

“Any relationships.” Alastor was resting his head against the back of the couch, eyes on Lucifer. “In platonic relationships, I’m too much. Too overbearing, or close it’s odd, or something. In romantic relationships, I’m never enough. I don’t want enough, I don’t give enough. I don’t love enough.” Alastor tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve simply accepted I’m not a suitable person to love.”

Lucifer dug his heel into the fabric of Alastor’s thighs. The overlord gripped his ankle gently. Tenderly.

“That’s why you’re pushing me away?”

Alastor shut his eyes as if they would block out the words, make them vanish. His fingers tightened just subtly. The hint of claws pricked against Lucifer’s skin.

“You say you’re fine with…this right now,” Alastor started slowly, his ears flickering back. “But that’s not the first time such a thing has been said to me.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Something about Alastor’s gaze turned softer, sadder. “Perhaps you are not lying now, but who’s to say a decade down the line you don’t begin craving things.” Alastor swallowed, eyes flitting away. “Things I cannot provide you with. Will it turn into a lie then?”

“Alastor-“

“When you tell me you love me and I cannot echo your words with the same meaning, what then? I cannot expect you to remain with me and rob you of such things. I cannot- I will not be that selfish.”

“Alastor.” Lucifer’s voice was firm. He reached over and rested his hand over Alastor’s. “Am I allowed to be selfish?” His voice was gentle. Alastor couldn’t look at him. “I want you in anyway you’ll have me. If that means staying friends, we’ll stay friends. If that means…being whatever in between thing you’re comfortable with, we can do that. I don’t…I want you. Not some romantic notion of a relationship with you, not because of anything you have to give me. You.”

Lucifer squeezed Alastor’s hand gently, a soft smile ghosting his lips. “Alastor, all I want from you is for you to let me love you. Whatever that means to you.”

[moonlit-dreamers]

holy shit, me drawing and posting something? wow. so rare, i know

anyway saving the light au be upon ye

sometimes sunshine needs comfort... and a lot of it-

REBLOGS APPRECIATED

[campbenji]

you know what? fuck it *rewrites your jwct dinostar so both darius and brooklynn are acespec and the drama actually makes sense*

[abcwordsurge]

at first I was like, aroace jason!

then I was like, aromantic piper!

now I'm like, aroace and agender leo!

lost trio? more like... (*squints at notes*) aspec trio

[sunfloweraro]

WIP Saturday

Ravio is determined to make use of every second Legend is home.

AKA an excuse for me to write domestic queerplatonic Ravioli fluff.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

So focused as he was on the chore, Legend didn’t realise Ravio was humming until Ravio began to sway, bumping hips with him. Used to his partner’s antics and more confident now that they were alone, Legend laughed, returning the hip bump as they always used to, before Legend was dragged from home yet again.

Ravio laughed, high and light, continuing to hum, terribly off-key. Ravio couldn’t hold a tune to save his life, and Legend hadn’t a clue what his partner was trying to hum, winced as he weaved between high and low notes like it was nobody’s business. Ravio’s singing was awful.

Legend loved it.

“What are you even humming?” Legend asked as he passed the final plate to Ravio, beginning the tough work of the pots and pans.

Ravio took the plate, still swaying and bouncing to the song only he could hear. “Not a soul out there,” he sang, so poorly Legend couldn’t help the delighted laugh that escaped him. “No one to hear my prayer.” Legend laughed harder upon realising just what song Ravio had stuck in his head. Where had he even heard it recently?

“Your singing is terrible,” he said fondly.

“You love it.” Ravio smiled, eyes crinkling.

Legend smiled back. “I do.”

Ravio brightened, and he set the plate down to dry on the rack. “Come on!” And he took Legend’s hands, still wet and soapy, pushing them back and forth to the tune in his head.

Legend rolled his eyes, but acquiesced, entwining his fingers with Ravio’s and joining in. Ravio continued his terribly off-key singing, and Legend offered his on-key humming in turn as they danced around the tiny kitchen, back and forth, eyes bright with joy. Ravio was more than content to lead the dance, complete with random slides and sudden spins that left Legend dizzy and laughing. He pulled Legend closer, set a hand over his waist, pushing their entwined hands out into a more traditional dance. Legend set his hand over Ravio’s shoulder, smiled when his partner gazed fondly at him.

“I missed you,” Ravio said, voice soft in the kitchen as they swayed in circles, stepping back and forth together as they had done so many times before.

Legend leaned forward to rest his forehead against Ravio’s. “I missed you too.”

[purpleleafsyt]

From my fic, Inclarity :>

[starzwithapen]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

VIVA / GN!READER / CLAY ☆ poly dating hcs !

Headcanons for being in a polyamorous relationship with these two !! Reader is gender neutral and this is ENTITRELY self indulgent lmao the target audience is ME

⭑˚₊‧° ♢ 𓆩♡𓆪 ♢ °‧₊˚⭑

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

☆ if you're more bubbly and excitable like Viva- you and her team up to help Clay unwind after work, walking into the admin building every few minutes to help him take regular breaks

☆ if you're more serious like Clay, you and him help Viva stay grounded and not get too in over herself from excitement- making sure she calms down and thinks things through

☆ they're both very grateful for having you, and they show it in different ways!

☆ just know you'll always be sporting a little braid in your hair throughout the day- Viva loves to add little hair charms so you two can match [and tries to rope Clay into it, too]

☆ all three of you have matching bracelets, and you'd be surprised to know that it was actually Clay who made them! The thread is tied off a little sloppily, but he tried to join you and Viva in something you both loved, and it warmed your heart and had Viva squealing

☆ Clay tries to be smooth and subtle but Viva gets too impatient lol

- "Sooo.....I was thinking-" "We want to go out with you." "HEY- I was gonna, y'know, build up to it!" "You were taking too loonnggg!"

☆ I'd actually imagine you or Clay had to be the ones to confess! Viva's a very affectionate person in general, but with something as delicate and important to her as this, she's scared of changing your dynamic and what it could bring [and is afraid of either of you not feeling the same and leaving her behind]

☆ Once she gets over that initial fear the PDA is amped up by 100! She's holding your hands and dragging you across the golf course, constant hugging and kisses in public

☆ Clay's a little more quiet about it- he doesn't want the other trolls thinking he's gone soft, but....he'll link his pinkie with yours and lean down to kiss your forehead when no one's looking

☆ They're not the type to get jealous- Viva loves seeing you and Clay being all cute together, and Clay's glad you two have each other when he's busy with work

☆ Speaking of- if Clay's taking too long working on something and won't take a break? You and Viva are sitting behind him on the couch being as dramatic and ridiculous as possible

☆ "ohhh....I'm just so cold and miserable....if only our boyfriend would give us the time of day!" Viva slumps back on the cushions and puts a hand across her heart, trying to hold back her smile, "Viva, it's hopeless....he cares only for calculus and equations, the cheater." You both look at each other and burst out into a fit of giggles. Clay sighs and turns his chair around, opening his arms wide for a hug "fine, fine. Get over here."

☆ It gets a little hard to cuddle with 3 people [and a work table that Clay insists on, because these supplies won't order themselves] but you all make it work

- it's usually Clay in the middle, you sat in his lap with your arms wrapped around his waist, and Viva behind the both of you fiddling with Clay's hair and gossiping with you

☆ Clay really likes reading aloud to you both- he knows Viva can't sit still long enough to finish his favorite books, though she does try, and he doesn't really mind it. Reading out loud to you makes it more of a date activity, and your reactions make reading all the more fun

- [especially when Viva gasps at the plot twists and you fumble over Clay's shoulder to make sure he's not messing with you, and the book really did say that]

☆ Viva LOVES sleepovers, and you three usually have them at your place. While Viva's house is perfect for sleepovers, she tends to get too lazy to make her bed [and you'd rather not sleep on sticky candy], and Clay's bedroom is just.....well.

- "it's distinguished!" "No- no, Clay, it's just sad."

☆ Clay's surprisingly clingy in the mornings- while Viva's up and ready to go, rushing to bring you a mug of your favorite drink and kiss you, Clay's clinging onto you and shoving his head into your back to stay away from the sunlight

☆ Viva can really unwind with you, being open and vulnerable without the fear of being weak or being left behind- she knows you'll always be there, by her side

☆ Clay can be his true self around you, without forcing himself to have this serious image all the time- he knows you see him for all he is, and if he has fun around you it won't be all you define him as

☆ The putt putt trolls all know you're a close trio- to the point that seeing any of you without the other two feels wrong somehow, even before you all started dating

[qprconcepts]

qpp’s that love each other and i meant to send a better ask but i just love them so much and can’t put that into words :3

hehe so me i journal and i mention them so much in it. (160 pages of R being in love)

[employee052]

turns out a brief moment of feeling ok doesnt mean im done grieving

anywho, heres a vent doodle with a pose i saw online, might not reblog the road trip thread posts for a bit (i feel bad for not being able to participate in my own trend but as long as people enjoyed it then i dont mind all too much)

i dont wanna call it a break bc i cant help but be on tumblr, but things might go quiet in terms of art or me talking.

hope yall are doin well today/tonight/timezone n ill see yall when i see you :3

[fumifooms]

Mickrin

Fifth entry of my “Dunmeshi rarepairs I will birth with my own hands if I have to” series. This one’s straight up embarrassing, like of course the shadow version of Chilchuck and Marcille would get me.

It suddenly grabbed me out of nowhere. What got me thinking about it is this exchange, first comic third panel, because like… Woah. He knows she has a thing for Kabru? Or something. And he has NO FEAR. Like it’s so forward and has 0 pretenses lmao. And then I thought… And oh no. Oh no.

"I can fix him" x "I can make her worse"

Very uptight and strict and rules-following and too self-aggrandizing tbh x will not hesitate to insult you to your face and sleazy and free spirit…. Kuro is involved in an ot3 of sorts in my head and basically they drag her into Situations of various moral standing aka scams or idk going to a club god forbid. I think she needs to relax and get taken down 1 peg maybe, and I think he needs like…….. Someone to teach him what is unhealthy lmao, also remind him to get work benefits, and if they can like get to feel safe and comfy with one another (and god just the road there would be a beautiful trainwreck to watch) they would be gossip besties worsties.

Kabru needs to be the epitome of morals but like, if it’s Mickbell she can lower the bar… Just for him… <3 She can fix him just a little and she’ll be like "wow! Ok I can settle for this amount of upstanding behavior from you Mickbell you get a gold star"

I never expected it ok I read this extra expecting nothing and god knows why I saw him be like "hey u like Kabru right. You’re his babysitter right. Which poor sap is being Kabru’s maid" with 0 fear and her being so casually pissed back at him and idk, how they’re so comfy being not polite with one another but they’re still coworkers-friends despite it… Crazy for how prickly they both are that they manage that much. They bicker and see each other as annoying at best but weirdly dependable and friends despite it all and……….. I am going to grow them in a lab and observe how I can make it work

MICKBELL IS A REBOUND MORE AT 9??? Maybe Rin and Mickbell have a one night stand and then the aftermath dynamic is this….. She probably regrets it. And then it gets more complex and grows into something odd as she becomes hyperaware of him and they have this little complicity thing going on….

I think cuddling with Kuro (who would be more like a platonic protective & soothing presence in his and Rin’s relationship rather than romo) would destress her actually I think she needs and deserves it. Go to a dog cafe bbygirl it’ll fix you. So what I’m saying is the three of them watch a movie and Rin and Mickbell are sitting on Kuro’s laps and everyone is so comfy. Kuro’s legs die halfway through but he’s self-sacrificing it’s fine….. Actually Mick is on his laps Rin’s just nuzzled into his side. There, fixed. I am so weirdly invested in them… They’re funky to think about. Rin seeing Mickbell and Kuro like "you guys are aware that what you two have is fucked up right" and then joining them in the messy dynamic 🤝  Put them in situations. That will be all.

The sheer amount of sass on their own, let alone together…

Make them get drunk together it’ll be glorious

[loufuckers]

actually no i can't be normal and stop thinking about this post and this post and hurting my own feelings because like

here's eddie diaz who's not very good at making friends he doesn't work with and who's so repressed even the pope thinks it's a tad bit much and he's meeting this older firefighter pilot who's so fucking cool and he's got so much in common with and he actually wants to be friends with him. and eddie's never had a friend he can actually talk sports and martial arts with, someone who actually understands the trauma of being in the army, and maybe tommy also comes from a family like his that's not without love and it wasn't exactly bad but his parents never truly understood him or supported him in anything. maybe tommy is also an older brother who had to take the mantle of "man of the house" because his dad was too detached from it, had to take too many responsibilities at an early age.

and eddie just connects with this dude in a way that he's never connected with anyone besides buck and even then, there's things buck can't never understand but tommy does. so he starts hanging out with this guy, starts texting him and talking with him basically anytime he's not on call or with his son

and one day he brings up this fight he's excited for and asks tommy if he'd want to watch it with him and tommy's like "actually, i've got a mate who got me two ringside tickets for it and i've been looking for someone to go with, you'd be interested?" and eddie is over the moon about it. he's nearly giggling and kicking his feet up as he calls carla to ask if she can look after chris overnight because he's going to fucking vegas with a friend. when he arrives at harbour to get on the chopper tommy is flying them to vegas in he's just a bit disappointed to see buck is there too but it's also great because buck is his best friend and he loves him and he's the only person who ever made eddie feel this way once upon a time (and he's trying so hard not to think too much about that) so it's great they're friends too but actually, no, buck's not coming and eddie feels only a little bit bad that he's relieved about it.

so they go to the fight and it's fucking great and tommy gets into it just as much as eddie is. after the fight they go out for drinks with tommy's promoter friend and they get a little drunk and in that drunken haze he lets himself think about the things he usually tries to keep at bay. he thinks about how cool and impressive tommy is but also about how fucking hot he is, he's 300lb of muscle and the strength he's got, how easily he'd manhandled eddie when they were practicing muay thai the other day, how when he looked on top of eddie when he pinned him to the floor and how eddie had wanted to taste the sweat on his muscles, lick the vein in his neck, get those hands that were holding him touching way below. but he gets a hold of himself and when they get to their hotel room with the two queen size beds he makes himself stop thinking about they way he wants to touch him everywhere, find out if he can make him make some of the noises from their sparring session in a different context. tries not to think about how his cock would feel on his hand, how tommy would look as he came.

so anyway, they get back to LA the next morning and eddie tries his best to pretend he never thought any of that and then the basketball game from hell happens and tommy tells him he's gonna talk to buck, try and make peace and eddie doesn't think twice about it, they're both his friends and they would get along well. when he sees them hanging out at the restaurant he pretends that what he feels at the pit of his stomach isn't jealousy, and later that week he only wonders a little bit if marisol being a nun before truly is the only reason why he can't have sex with her anymore, if the fact that sometimes when he sinks into her deep in his brain in a corner he never goes to he thinks about a different person, one with broader shoulders and strong pecs instead of breasts isn't part of it too.

and then he's in buck's kitchen and buck's telling him "it was a date" and when eddie asks "wait, tommy's gay?" it has nothing to do with buck and all to do with him knowing in an instant that if he'd known that back in vegas he might have risked it, might have followed his deepest desires and touch tommy like he wanted to. but now his best friend is talking about him with that doe eyed look in his eyes and eddie knows that means he really likes him and eddie does his best to push his own feelings aside because that's what he's good at and buck needs him to be supportive, that he's being vulnerable and confessing something scary to him and eddie wishes he could be like that, too, so he tells him to call tommy even though eddie wants him to do the opposite, wants to be the one tommy kissed in the kitchen and took on a date

he's not lying, exactly, when he tells buck he also likes tommy but not in that way, because whatever buck feels for tommy can't compare to what eddie's going through. he doesn't know if his desire outweighs the shame, doesn't know if he'd be able to be like buck and jump straight into it with blind hope, he knows he'd never be able to talk about it tho. not for a long while. and when he goes home that night and he's laying on his marisol-free bed staring at the ceiling he gives himself permission to be fucking angry that buck gets to have what he wants so bad, lets himself be a shitty friend and wish tommy maybe also wants eddie the way he wants him, want him more than he wants buck.

in the morning he'll feel guilty about it, in the morning he will be the supportive friend buck needs. but tonight he wallows in his jealousy and his anger and his shame and if he comes from jerking off a little too hard with tommy's name in his mouth no one has to fucking know about it.

[hiemaldesirae]

The Hazbin Graduate’s Guide to Homicide (3)

HAZBIN'S MIDSEMESTER STUDENT REPORT Student: Vox Vanhal Supervising Staff: Professor Enoch Leviathan Sponsor: Not Applicable To the Board: Vox Vanhal may be one of the most brilliant students this school has seen in decades. In all my years of teaching at Hazbin, I have never met a student more insanely ready to learn and apply their skills- due in part, of course, to said student's own possible insanity. I mean this in a jovial way, of course, but I will admit that when young Vanhal's true identity was revealed to me that my first thought was along the lines of 'is this student insane?' Whether or not my student's reason should be called into question is something myself and my fellow professor Asmodeus have discussed in length, but there is one thing that we can definitively agree on: If there is any one student in this school who I would choose to place my bets on, it would be Vox Vanhal. There is nothing more to say at this time of report evaluation. Sincerely, Professor Leviathan.

May God's blessings be with you now and at the hour of our deaths, Amen.

[ 1 ] / [ 2 ] (<- read these first for context and more murder academy radiostatic content!)

Though Alastor may have thought that Vox was much more knowledgable in how Hazbin's Institution for Homicide worked, the truth was, Vox was still fully flying on the seat of his own coattails.

He had no damn clue what he was doing still, and although it'd been two weeks since he'd arrived, part of him still felt like how he did when he'd first arrived: hesitant, scared, not knowing where to go or what to do besides the want to make his boss suffer as he killed him.

That level of animosity might sound strange to anyone not a Hazbin student or alumnus, but it was perfectly normal for any student enrolled in the academy to have such feelings. After all, there was quite a rigorous process involved in the application, and for Vox, this application process (and what led to it) was perhaps more intense than most.

There had once been a time where Vox had dreamed of becoming a Hollywood starlet, one who lit up the silver screen and was blessed by hundreds of thousands of cheering, dedicated fans who would fawn over his every move and action. He'd wanted to follow in his mother's footsteps, at one point. But after taking on his first roles in Carmine Studios, the glamour of Hollywood had shattered like fine glass.

"Miss Vesper! Would you please look over here for a second?"

"Miss Vesper, when is your next movie coming out?!"

"Miss Vesper, is it true that you and your co-star on Anna Karenina, Valentino Vega had an affair-?"

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! That- fucking bastard!" Vox rushed into the privacy of his and Val's shared apartment, slamming the door behind him as he collapsed into the couch, head cradled in his hands. He couldn't even begin to start detailing the number of ways he'd wanted to fucking butcher and rip apart his boss.

Andrealphus Goetia was no stranger to the spotlight, naturally. One of Hollywood's top directors, the man had been an influential cornerstone in the history of movie-making, a real legend to light the days. But behind that picturesque platinum reputation laid a monstrous piece of shit.

It had been a complete accident that Andrealphus had found out about Vox's identity.

Vox himself hadn't even really planned out what to do about himself at that point, only that he'd known that the dresses he wore on screen were far more suited to his best friend than they were for him. Knew that the copious amounts of makeup flattened on him everyday made him feel more like a clown than a princess, that it was the most uncomfortable feeling to have to sit and play the pretty face for the audience's sake.

But he persisted, telling himself, one more year, one more year til my savings account has enough to supply Val and I with a comfortable life and we can leave.

But of course- of course Andrealphus had to ruin it for him.

The man had found out and immediately proceeded to blackmailing Vox with the information, holding things such as promotions, media gossip and rumors over his head. And now... now... Vox stared down at the script he held clutched in his hand, his knuckles turning white as he grasped it with an iron grip.

"Dieser verdammte bastard," Vox muttered under his breath.

Though he'd never loved the spotlight that came with his first taste of fame, he had loved acting. Had loved being adored for his skill, applauded for the emotions that he could evoke in crowds of people and the way he could twist people's hearts. He had wanted to be one of the best, a household name.

And now, he stared down at the script for a movie that Andrealphus knew would tank his reputation. It was absolute bullshit. The plot was held together by thin strings and a bit of glue, despite being an adaptation of one of the past decade's best selling books. Not only that, but the moment he left the safety of the apartment once more, he would also have to contend with the rumors that were steadily piling against him and dragging his loved ones and friends into it too.

All this, because Vox had refused to sleep with his shitty boss.

He could still hear the fucker's voice- come on, don't you wanna say that you got a piece of me? I'll even leave out the part about you being a transvestite, darling, just the fact that I got a piece of you is enough.

God. If only.... if only he could see that bastard's face when he crushed his fucking skull in between his hands. He wanted to see Andrealphus' stupid face contort in revulsion and terror when Vox finally did the deed, wanted to bathe in the the fotze's inbred blood. He'd do anything for the chance to just kill that piece of shit-

"Amorcito?"

Val's voice makes Vox jump on the spot, quickly shifting to hide the script from view. His friend comes around the corner, eyebrows furrowed with concern, and it's this that makes Vox break his composure, a single tear falling down his face as Val frowns, taking a seat next to him on the couch. "Voxxy, amor... tell me what's wrong."

And because he can never keep his mouth shut when it comes to his best friend, Vox tells him everything. Val nods along, pauses at the right moments, all of that stuff that friends do when they're trying to let you know that they'd rip apart your shitty boss if not for the law.

But- and perhaps this is something that Vox knew deep down to be true anyway- Val was a bit different in that aspect. He'd met the man under... less than legal circumstances, after all, and he knew that Val was the heir to quite the illustrous cartel career.

So when Valentino stops him with a firm hand on the shoulder and hands him an application paper for Hazbin, telling him to think it through, Vox barely takes even a second glance at it before filling it out.

Now, two months later and sitting in the auditorium of Hazbin's famed Music Hall, Vox doesn't find himself regretting the decision. Sure, it's a bit lonely without Val's supporting presence by his side, but the students he's met so far have proved to be some of the friendliest people he's had the pleasure of knowing: ironic, considering the kind of school they're studying at. And he's even managed to make a friend! Not that bad a start, altogether.

Vox absentmindedly doodles on the edge of his notes as Professor Leviathan's soothing voice lectures them on the importance of a proper alibi. "If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, but it has an airtight alibi, it is...?"

"Not a duck," the auditorium echoes back to the professor, who nods, looking satisfied with the class's response. "So, then! The first step to alibi making is...? Miss Velvette, perhaps you'd like to answer this one for us?"

The girl sitting beside Vox shoots up in her seat, looking as if she'd just fallen asleep and was awoken by the professor's question. "Uh... the..."

After a moment of silence and stuttering, Vox takes pity on the girl, sliding Velvette over a slide of paper that she squints at before reading. "Make sure you're in a different place from the crime?"

"And how would I do that?"

"I... uh. Use an accomplice...?" Velvette stutters.

Professor Leviathan shakes his head, looking disappointed. "Not quite. One thing you will have to learn at Hazbin's is that you should never rely on any other person to carry your deed out for you. No hiring accomplices- after all, paid personnel's loyalty is shaky and they have no honor code preventing them from taking you to the police- and absolutely no committing crimes as lovers, unless you can guarantee that neither of you will be snitching. Would anyone else like to take a try?"

Vox raises his hand hesitantly. "Move the crime scene or otherwise obscure the culprit?"

Professor Leviathan snaps his fingers, "Yes! Absolutely. One of the best ways to make yourself an iron clad alibi is, if the pope is shot in the church at midnight, make sure that you are seen halfway across town in the bar at midnight; so drunk that you cannot even leave until your wife comes to pick you up at two- and no one will suspect you, even if he was actually killed right outside the pub and moved to the church instead. By moving the crime scene, you can make yourself an ironclad alibi. Obscuring the identity of the perpetrator and making it someone who couldn't possibly be you also works splendidly. After all, if the police believe the murderer to be a six foot tall adult man, then the actual perpetrator, a four foot tall young woman, would be able to pass by completely unnoticed. Thank you for that input, Vox. Now, onto the actual creation of such an alibi..."

When class ends, Vox is the first to leave his seat and head for the door, intending on leaving and getting to Track with Professor Satan as quick as possible when someone stops him in his tracks with a firm grip on his shoulder.

"Hey. Vox Vanhal, right?"

"That would be me, yes," Vox turns to face the person he's talking to, only to be met with the young woman that Professor Leviathan had called out in class earlier. "You were... Velvette?"

"Yep, that's me," the chipper young woman responds. "Listen, I know you don't know me at all, but I really need to get through this school year. Like- look, okay, I'm in a little bit over my head right now. I still want to go here and do what everyone here does, of course, I'd love to just go and plunge a damn butcher's knife into my cunt of an ex-friend's neck, but... well, you saw how I did back in class- look, what I'm trying to get at is I need someone to help me. And you're like, Leviathan's star student. So- I don't care what I have to do, I'll-"

Vox holds up a hand to stop her.

"I don't need you to do anything for me, unless you've got any tips on how to kill my boss and make him suffer during it. But I'll help you with whatever you need to study during your courses. Just..." He pauses, taking a moment to think out what he's about to ask. "Could you teach me how you did your makeup on your own?"

Velvette blinks, clearly not expecting that response. She laughs, a shrill, sharp bark and grabs his hand to shake it firmly. "Yeah, 'course I can. So, do we have a deal?"

"We do," Vox smiles. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

[dino--draws]

para!Place and para!Ilse Relationship Headcanons — because I am mentally ill. Also I slipped in a little short written character exchange too

Tbh I think para!Place got manhandled as hell when brought to Site-43. That man was in complete shambles, frightened and sobbing his little heart out. No one is listening to what he’s saying, he can barely hear them over the ringing in his ears. They can’t wrangle him down to get the eyedrops in and end up having to sedate him to avoid 001-A killing the man. This is a horrendous first impression 

Fun fact?? Ilse was only a Year out of the incinerator when the Paradox hits?? She’s not doing too hot.

So they see this frightened, alone man and Majorly see themselves in him. She’s projecting when they first start trying to reach out and connect with him. And he vaguely knows of her from parascientific journals and such, which is better than knowing Nothing (see: not knowing a damn soul in 43)

para!Place is touch adverse as all hell due to the previous shit and para!Ilse is a very touchy-feely person due to being touch starved and this does clash a little initially

They keep trying to physically comfort him or just in general put a hand on him and it makes him flinch a handful of times. He’s bad at communicating discomfort but they pick up eventually and start asking permission 

Place takes a while to warm up to Ilse, but they both end up mutually latching onto the other. He tends to tail her like a lost dog because Ilse knows the site better at first

Him getting injured by 001-A and Ilse helping in his recovery majorly grows his trust in them back when they were still warming up

They are both so mid socially. Ilse stands too close to people and talks a bit too loud, Place will stare at you with wide eyes in dead silence

After a while Ilse ends up as like the only person on site that Place lets touch him, because he knows they’d never hurt him. :))))

You will often find them passed out in one of the labs curled up against each other.

They could have some sort of queer platonic relationship going on. Its moderately co-dependent and theyre not sure what to define it as but they act close. Its just all platonic

Place tells Ilse about all the stuff pop culturally and more mundane that they missed while in the Incinerator. Oh and books. TV shows. Movies. Media themes and modern tropes. They are usually very baffled or confused but the two of them loooove to yap its enriching for em.

They have moderately incomprehensible parascience discussions. They do not always Agree parascientifically and sometimes butt heads, but they respect the others opinions

AND THEN EVERYTHING GOES TO SHIT WHEN NGO DIES AND PHMD STARTS ISOLATING HIMSELF AND BREAKING UNDER THE PRESSURE ✨✨✨

He shuts out everything and everyone, gets some asinine shit thats been boiling under the surface in his mind this whole time and starts to crumble mentally.

It worries the Fuck outta Ilse, because they notice when he starts to deteriorate both physically and mentally but still can barely pry anything from him. They’re the one that prompts the “better story” line from him. 

They get Really strained 

When he abandons the timeline, when she realizes what he’s done and what he’s going to do, they are god damn furious.

Stealing this from Kiku, but Ilse basically jailbreaks her TAD jumpwatch and manages to jury rig it to follow him after some time passes. Taking the Cannon fucked everyone over, and they want fucking answers to what he’s doing.

She’s not going to like those answers.

Other tangential headcanons for these two

para!Place occasionally goes nonverbal. Sometimes stress related, sometimes he just Doesn’t feel like it. He’s gesture heavy or can use a text to speech to bridge gaps from time to time.

para!Ilse loves to draw. They’re mid at it at best and the drawings come out looking more like scientific diagrams, but they love to draw things that she sees in a little book. She looks back on the doodles she did of the outside world before the paradox with solemn nostalgia.

phmd has a damaged little rubiks cube but he struggles with it because half the colors are hard to see now with the red monochromacy 

Here actually have a little drabble because I am insane fun fact:

“How can you even solve that thing, with the monochromacy?” Ilse’s voice cuts through a silence that had previously only been broken by a quiet clicking. Placeholder jolts, and looks over at her. He’s sat on the lab’s floor, back against the wall, Rubik’s cube in his lap.

“Ah— well,” he rubs the bandages on his arm, winces, “truth be told, I can���t. The only colors that are still differential are these two—“ Place taps a darker square, and a pale one, “—blue and white, I think? I don’t remember well what they looked like.” The eyedrops make his vision blurry, anyhow. He can scarcely see, between them and the Paradox’s sensory effects. 

“So what’s the point?” There’s a shifting of fabric as Ilse plops down heavily next to him, adjusting her glasses on her nose. They’d long since popped out the lenses, but kept the frames for ‘nostalgia’. 

Place shrugs, “I like the sounds. I… I need to do something with my hands, HEAR something, or I fear I’ll go batty down here.”

“I can’t stand the silence either,” Ilse nods, she traces a circle on the tile with her finger, “the Incinerator was dead silent for all seventy-eight of those years, if I have to stand another second I may snap.” They give a harsh, bitter sort of laugh. Placeholder frowns,

“I… I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. If this shitfest is anyones fault, it’s Dougall’s, not yours — no matter what he tried to imply.” Ilse would almost rather this hell over their previous, if not for the fact this one affected more than just one person.

“…at least the Cannon works.” Placeholder sighs, “its given the others hope.”

“You say that as if it didn’t give you any,” Ilse arches her brow, “did you ever ask future you anything about what his situation was?”

Placeholder looks away. 

“Place?”

“I don’t remember. Our conversation fades more by the day. But I think he sounded… tired.”

“If YOU’RE saying someone sounded tired, it must’ve been bad.” Ilse frowns, they tentatively reach over to him — a silent ask of permission — and he nods. Ilse gently grasps his shoulder, tugs him closer and Place leans up against her, knees curling up to his chest. 

“And speaking of, you should rest, Place.“

He exhales softly, eyes drifting downwards.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

[ineffable-doll]

Every time I see arophobia I want to write another fic where Aziraphale and Crowley are aromantic. So I do. I just did it again. Might do this forever actually. Aroace A&C make me very happy.