#and my mom was like “i'm so proud that you like my chemical romance”

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 2

I have no idea what I am doing with this space each week. Am I thinking thoughts? Am I recapping the episode? Am I getting anxiety that I'll have to be more selective with the images I use since I'm only allowed thirty yet every second of this show is color-coded? Am I lusting after Pin and my girl Prik? All of the above?! Once again, I have no idea, so let me just get this post started at the beginning with Pin being the saddest Pink Person and cutting all the mangoes within 50 miles because her girlfriend is leaving.

The Blue Beauty Anin sends her loyal and trusty sidekick Prik to keep her girlfriend company while she is busy preparing for her move.

Because she knows no mangoes are safe and apparently papayas too! And while we get a flashback, we see that Pin is wearing blue ribbons in her hair because even if she can't put words to it, she's been in love with her Blue Beauty for a long time.

Probably before she even knew the word "love"

So while Anin is busy making arrangements with her color-coded brother,

Pin is haunting the halls already grieving her loss

Refusing to acknowledge that Anin is leaving (same girl, same)

Losing her appetite (and will to live), which her color-coded mother picks up on

And crushing Prik's spirit with the realization that Anin will be abroad for SEVEN DAMN YEARS!

Basically, Pin is in her sad girl era as she holds Anin's handkerchief and cries into her pillow.

But thankfully Prik acts like a ghost and snitches to her Blue Beauty Boss that their Pink Person is turning into Britney Spear's 2000 classic "Lucky" since "she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking 'if there's nothing missing in my life then why do these tears come at night?'"

So Anin, in true Blue Beauty, fashion decides to make her girl happy by making food with her and eating it . . . alone since Pin still isn't eating.

And takes up every single waking moment of Pin's time.

They even celebrate Loy Krathong together, but the mood turns sad once Pin finally vocalizes that Anin is leaving FOR SEVEN DAMN YEARS!

So it's time for Anin to leave, and she says goodbye to her color-coded girlfriend and her color-coded aunt.

Oh, and her color-coded brothers!

But she immediately gets to writing her girl because if a letter is late, according to Prik, Pin is painting her nails black and listening to My Chemical Romance's "Ghost of You" on repeat until the letter arrives. Same girl, same.

However, Pin can read between the lines, and even though Anin is saying she is happy and writing about other friends (Anin knows other women?! Not in this sapphic love story she don't!),

Pin knows Anin is not happy and can see the teardrops on the letter as clear as day because they are the same album, but different songs. Alexa, play My Chemical Romance's "I'm Not Okay"!

Fuck it! Just play all of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge! I'M in my emo feels!

But their SEVEN DAMN YEAR separation is coming to in end which we can tell because their hairstyles have changed, and our Blue Beauty has a plan up her sleeve!

Sidenote: The snow globe on her desk has one character in green and blue and the other is in red and pink. It's them!

But back to the plan! Now that Anin is graduating, she triple-checks with her color-coded family that the highly esteemed prince who just happens to be her dad is going to keep his promise of giving her anything she wants.

Because this bad (blue) bitch is getting the custom-made house she promised her girl! Sis secured the bag!

And Pin is proud as hell of her smarty-pants skirt (since the clothing is historical accurate?).

But as proud as she is of her, in the middle of a room filled with pink, blue, and purple (!!!!) flowers, she looks shocked to see her Blue Beauty right in front of her when the episode ends.

Anin is just full of surprises like appearing out of nowhere and coming back queerer than when she left. Good for her!

Bonus: Anin's mom is a Yellow/Orange Oddity, and I think as the girls continue to age, they will inherit more of their moms' colors into their wardrobes because of generational trauma, gender norms, and whatnot until they break against tradition and be gay do crime each other.

But either way, me and my huge emo album collection will be here doing whatever this is all season!

[original-character-championship]

SUMMER JET PROPAGANDA POST

Personality-wise, she's best described as "sassy bitch with a side of mom friend"—she has a loud-and-proud, take-no-bullshit attitude and absolutely zero filter whatsoever, but despite being very rough around the edges charisma-wise, she does usually have people's best interests in mind! If you manage to befriend her, you've got a fiercely loyal ally on your side who'll very much ride or die for you, and maybe even kill for you (...okay, maybe not kill, but 100% bash people's skulls in with her bat and leave them alive to deal with the consequences and hopefully learn their lesson). She's also a jeweler by hobby, and also as I mentioned in her introductory blurb a huge My Chemical Romance fan!!

As for her lore?

Summer was made for a tabletop RPG campaign based around Pokémon Mystery Dungeon, and before the campaign happened, things were Not Good™️ for her. Her dad Canary, the CEO of a mining company in Unova, really wanted her to be his heir and would get very cold & oftentimes downright physically/emotionally abusive whenever she protested, while her mom Snow tried to support her and help her find something she'd prefer doing... to very little avail, as she was a very lost child/teenager at the time.

Eventually, on her 16th birthday, Snow gave her the rose-gold bangle you see on her left arm, which immediately became one of her most prized possessions and is what sparked her to become a jeweler—which only served to piss off Canary even more. It really looked like things were going to end badly for Summer...

...and then one day, when she was freshly 19, after a particularly nasty argument with her father where he threatened to kick her out and take away everything she knew, she retreated to her room to take a nap—and vanished. Completely.

In actuality, that's when the PMD campaign started, as she had been isekai'd into the Pokémon world as a Sewaddle without any memories whatsoever, only that her name was Summer and that she used to be a human. She had that bangle stuck tightly around her neck like a choker and had no fucking idea why it was there for a while; the campaign is still technically in progress, even if it's on hiatus, and I have something planned for that when she evolves into a Swadloon if it ever revives, so I'm still keeping that a secret for now in case one of the other players sees this. (But you can send me (@kung-fu-cutbug) an ask on my blog and I'll spill the details there under a readmore! I might do that anyway.)

Anyways, eventually, after the adventure was over and everyone had gotten their memories back, Summer awoke back in her Opelucid City apartment as a human... sometime in 2022, around 2 and a half years after she had vanished initially (late 2019). Snow and, surprisingly, Canary were elated to see her back, although they were confused as to why she didn't look a day older than before she disappeared—she explained the PMD story and they were confused, but seemed to buy it. At the very least, it got Canary to stop bothering her so much about becoming his corporate heir. And she eventually got to reunite with her friends from the campaign too! She even got to adopt one of them as her younger brother after their reunion—he had woken up in Virbank City further southwest, met a girl named Cherry whom he told about a girl he knew in Opelucid, and tagged along with her while she did the gym challenge until they happened to meet up with Summer. Cherry eventually even started dating her. Lucky bastard.

She also has an Artfight page with a bit more tangential information I couldn't fit in here, so—with all that out of the way, vote for Summer!!

[lsdunesarchive]

L.s. Dunes: Pandemic "Life Preserver" And Rock's Best New Supergroup

How members of My Chem, Circa Survive, Thursday and Coheed channeled existential dread into explosive emo

Words by Mia Hughes Photo by Nicole Mago

December 13, 2022

Circa Survive and Saosin singer Anthony Green may have made his name fronting two of the most important post-hardcore bands of the Aughts, but it wasn't until the 40-year-old musician formed the new supergroup L.S. Dunes with his pals in My Chemical Romance, Coheed and Cambria and Thursday that he created something that would impress his 10-year-old self.

"I spent a lot of time as a kid listening to music and imagining myself in the band," he tells Revolver today. "I can remember being in the backseat of my mom's car and listening to Core by Stone Temple Pilots and fantasizing that I was the drummer or the guitar player. If I went back in time and played my younger self the L.S. Dunes album my heart would have just exploded with joy. My younger self would be so proud of me."

Indeed, the project's debut album, Past Lives, is the sound of five music lifers rediscovering the joy of rocking out at a time when that pursuit had been cruelly halted. Formed remotely in 2020 after the pandemic stamped out everyone's touring plans, vocalist Green is joined by My Chem's Frank Iero (guitar), Coheed's Travis Stever (guitar) and Thursday's Tim Payne and Tucker Rule (bass and drums, respectively). Across the album, they veer from mathy experimentalism and urgent hardcore heaviness to unabashed rock-star riffing. "It reminds me of everything I love about rock & roll," says Green, "from At the Drive-In to PJ Harvey to Nirvana and the Breeders and Queens of the Stone Age."

The band members' paths have intertwined for more than two decades, when they all began to dominate the East Coast post-hardcore scene around the turn of the millennium. They've toured together, shared rehearsal spaces and attended each other's kids' birthday parties. Thanks to all of this shared history, L.S. Dunes felt natural and easy from the outset. "We skipped all of the weirdness behind figuring out how everything's gonna work," Green explains, "and everybody just jumped in headfirst."

"To start a band with people that you wanna hang out with regardless is an awesome thing," adds Iero, calling in from the Oakland stop of MCR's massive reunion tour. "Those types of bands are normally ones that you start when you're young, like in high school, and that's what this felt like." Green sums up the feeling with an apt analogy: "It's like when you go on a first date with somebody, and you just expect it to be like, OK, we'll see how this goes … and then you're like, Holy shit, I'm fucking in love. I'm ready to propose!"

L.S. Dunes was also a much-needed source of support and catharsis for the musicians as they all dealt with the myriad uncertainties of the pandemic. "Circa Survive was due to go on tour in three weeks when the [lockdowns started]," Green says. "I was devastated. I have four children, and I didn't know how I was gonna provide for my family. I tried to keep my cool as much as I could, but I really had a breakdown. I couldn't fathom having any hope."

"There was definitely a sense of depression and desperation," confirms Iero, who had been days away from the My Chem tour kickoff in Australia when everything was canceled. "This project was very much like someone throwing [us] a life preserver — [we] clung to it." With no expectations beyond the vital need to make something, the band were able to indulge in pure creativity and freely channel their turbulent emotions into the music. "It was like hitting rock bottom," explains Iero, "and when you hit the bottom, it opens the door to freedom."

Green recalls the recording of the ripping lead single "Permanent Rebellion" as a key turning point. The singer had initially planned to write a melody for the chorus, but instead he just let loose an intense barrage of screams. It worked perfectly, and the rest of the band was onboard. "Everybody [was] just championing each other's ideas, and that just makes you wanna go even harder," he says of the creation of Past Lives, which was recorded with producer Will Yip (Turnstile, Code Orange).

"I know that I desperately needed a project that was heavier and more aggressive, just because I was feeling all these emotions. It's nice to have a place where I can yell and scream and go wild." Meanwhile, Iero was similarly branching out, incorporating mathy guitar techniques like tapping that he had never used in previous bands. "Something really, really special about this band was that risks we were taking that normally wouldn't end up on a record ended up on this record," he says.

Lyrically, Green explored the panic, mistrust and denial he saw bubbling all across the country as the pandemic became a divisive political issue. "We needed illumination — we needed light being shone on all this fear and hatred around us," he says. Meanwhile, Green describes the record's most personal song, the blistering opener "2022," as "the most fucked-up song I ever wrote." Penned in 2021, it presents Green's grim vision of the future ("If I can't make it 'till 2022/Least we'll see how much I can take") and also refers directly to when he survived an overdose: "I sometimes wish she hadn't found me on the night/I tried to disappear."

"That's a heavy statement, but it's true — and sometimes the truth weighs a ton," says Green. "I feel bad for my family who has to hear that song. Before the song came out, I sat with my kids and I told them, 'Hey, listen, this song is coming out, and I want you to know that you can always talk to me about anything, and that we can get through anything together.' It's really important for me to make sure that they realize that I love them, and that they're worth it."

Now that Green has reached the year he once feared he wouldn't, "2022" has become a triumphant anthem for the singer. "I'm in such a different place than I was when I wrote that song," he reveals. "So to sing it now feels very victorious." L.S. Dunes realized that celebration at this year's Riot Fest. It was their first show — and only the sixth time they had ever played together in-person as a band, including rehearsals.

"I was so nervous beforehand," says Green of the show, the attendance of which rivaled the singer's set with Circa Survive the previous year. "[But] when I got up there, it felt like our hundredth show. It felt like we had been a band for 10 years. When we played 'Permanent Rebellion,' everybody went nuts, and people were screaming along to the chorus. It's more than you can hope for. I feel so lucky."

"It was, hands down, the best first show I've ever played with any band," adds Iero. "It felt magical."

And as far as L.S. Dunes are concerned, this is just the beginning. Now that the world has opened back up, Green, Iero, Stever, Payne and Rule are all busy as ever with their respective projects, but there are no plans to leave L.S. Dunes behind. "We haven't even begun to experience and experiment with what we have," says Green. "Once we get together in a room to actually write songs or to jam — which we've never done as a band — that shit is going to explode."

[becauseanders]

5 (song) and 29 (tattoos) for the oc ask!! Whichever ocs you want to pick or have an answer for (and also Anders, obvi)

Not me looking for song recs or tattoo ideas or anything ;)

thank you, friend!! but also you made a mistake by trying to get me to make a decision because now i'm just going to answer for everyone, lmao

also to explain the counting-of-the-anders thing, anders cousland is the version of anders from my ridiculously long dragon age ii modern au it means tumult, where yes because it is an au everyone is a little oc-ified but because it's a handers fic that makes this au anders the most fleshed out after trista hawke, and i love him so fucking much, so i decided he counts for this game, lol

anyway, after that unnecessary ramble, here go!

5. What is the song you most associate to them? marian hawke: "map change" by every time i die or (even though this is cheap as fuck and more of a handers song to me) "marian" by the sisters of mercy

trista hawke: "temple of love" by the sisters of mercy

autumn amell: "thing with feathers" by every time i die

astrid trevelyan: "anhedonia" by chelsea wolfe and emma ruth rundle

carrie shepard: "the becoming" by nine inch nails

sara ryder: "our lady of sorrows" by my chemical romance

anders cousland: "rock 'n' roll suicide" by david bowie (in fact i literally starting writing that fic 100% just so there could be a universe where a hawke sings this to him)

29. They have a chance to get a tattoo: what would it be? marian hawke: okay first of all because i just did it APPARENTLY IF YOU GOOGLE "DRAGON AGE HAWKE TATTOO" THE FIRST IMAGE ON THE "ALL RESULTS" PAGE IS ME????? anyway, though, it's this red thing on her arm, i just see it as an actual tattoo she has even though we don't know what the fuck it means (also since i mentioned it uhh, i guess here's mine too, direct from the google results!, even though that arm doesn't look like that anymore as it's now a fully filled in half sleeve…although fuck, i barely even look like that anymore and goddamn let's not dwell on that…despite the fact that all my pink had faded out in this picture let the internet remember me this way indeed)

trista hawke: same as my marian, but in her universe i made it so that it's sort of like a hawke family crest she also just so happens to have no idea of the origin for, lol

autumn amell: she would totally get a broken circle sort of symbol, and/or a grey warden symbol, and/or a rose (most likely all of the above if given the opportunity)

astrid trevelyan: she has a tattoo under her left eye that's just little lines and dots, per the tattoo options in the character creation screen, and it's there to draw more attention to the scars she has on that side of her face and head (she also shaves her head on that side) that she acquired while fighting with the mage rebellion, which she's very proud of taking part in (even though she also regularly lies about whether or not she was part of it with the inquisition because she's terrified) (also here she is in a video capture even though you still really can't see the tattoo super well)

carrie shepard: she actually just starts collecting tattoos after the war and jack does them, and most of them are small and hidden and very personal (the coordinates for mindoir and anderson's service number, for example) but she has two fairly large ones, one on the inside of each forearm: an ash tree for ashley, and an outline of the river thames for anderson

sara ryder: she has a really big tattoo that covers pretty much her entire neck and is just pretty linework patterns that almost look like an elaborate large necklace; she got it because she thought it looked nice but also it was right after her mom died and she obviously wasn't getting any support so it was kind of a breakdown tattoo

anders cousland: tbh i'm not sure he would, like…he would probably just rather put the money towards his activism but if for some reason he had to, i'd have to really think about it but i could probably figure out an explanation for the "vengeance" (fuck you bioware) symbol to end up being associated with his justice persona in this universe

🥰

thank you again!

[Wholesome OC Asks]

[aliferous-ly]

I've never really asked for a drabble before... If it's okay with you, could you do 7 "I almost lost you" and 32 "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified" with Logan and Deceit? I just kinda thought that it had the potential to make some angst with a happy ending. Oh and I only found you recently, but I love the writing that I've seen so far. I always love finding amazing writers. (I'm sorry, I'm a total suck up)

im gonna start this with if you’re on mobile, i am So Sorry

i started this and was like “ha im getting a little carried away” and then went “oh no” 

and thank u dear!! that’s v sweet of u awe 

summary: Declan is a loud and proud aromantic. Then he realizes why he feels weird, and off, and awkward around his best friend, Logan, and his world starts to crumble. 

warnings: f word twice, lying, parent being imprisoned, angst, questioning identity, if there’s anything else lmk!!

It starts, Declan thinks, when Logan smiles. 

The situation starts out innocuous -- they’re sitting in Logan’s room, Declan tossing a tennis ball up and catching it unsuccessfully, making a right disaster of Logan’s room with all the objects he keeps knocking to the floor. Logan, naturally, continues doing his homework. 

And they’re just -- talking. 

Declan likes to think his world should shift on a more momentous occasion, maybe with fireworks, fingers brushing against one another dramatically, Jason Mraz playing in the background. 

But it’s the smallest thing. Declan throws the tennis ball up in the middle of his sentence -- “You can’t tell me you hate white pines, they have the softest needles” -- and he misses it on the way down. 

So he takes a tennis ball to the face and sits up, sputtering, rubbing at his nose, arm reaching out to snatch it before it rolls too far. 

Logan chokes out a laugh, eyes squinty and wrinkled at the edges. His laugh fills the room for a few thrilling moments and Declan thinks it’s the most beautiful sound in the world and he can’t stop staring at Logan’s engaging face, in the upturn of his lips and dimples carved in his cheeks. 

He’s radiant. 

Declan’s heart squeezes, lungs filling with something heavier than air, a foreign feeling washing through his veins. Like rose petals or sunlight. Woodsmoke or freshly fallen snow. 

The gears in his chest shift and settle and he feels… right. More right than he’s ever been. 

Which is, of course, why fear swiftly follows this gorgeous wash of emotions, because this is unusual and anything unusual is often bad. 

Declan forces down the incoming wave of anxiety, schooling his expression into one of smooth disdain. 

Just in time, too, because Logan opens his mouth and says, “It was only a matter of time until you paid for your crimes.”

“I’m too pretty to die,” Declan replies, thanking the heavens that while his brain may be steadily turning into mush (have Logan’s eyes always been that striking? Or his shoulders that broad?) his tongue still works. 

“Implying Death themself has a type, intriguing,” Logan says. He flashes a look over his computer, the after effects of joy still written on his features. “Bold of you to declare what Death likes.” 

Declan tries for a smirk but can feel the way his mouth turns to genuine grin, the traitor. “Aw, Logie, are you saying I’m not everyone’s type?” 

“That would be rather ironic, wouldn’t it?” Logan says wryly. He types away at his computer, dutiously finishing an English assignment that Declan is currently ignoring for bigger and better things. “The aromantic everyone pines over.” 

That strikes an odd chord in Declan’s chest, like he’s a half-tone off; not quite wrong, but not quite right, either. His expression must change, because Logan pauses in his typing. He blinks at Declan. “Something wrong?” 

Of course, that’s when Declan’s brain decides that those words are simply too much, too much, his shoulders tightening, back tensing. It’s like his rib cage is squeezing his vital organs, which seems rather counterintuitive. He hates this unknown, this awkward buzz against his skin, the prickling feeling through his bones. 

The resounding crash of everything happening all at once is overwhelming and Declan can’t seem to decide whether to sit as still as humanly possible or bolt. 

Or, of course, do what he does best. 

Lie. 

“I forgot to do something for my mom,” Declan says, barely registering the words before they fall from his lips. He hasn’t lied to Logan in a very, very long time (he knows it’s because they have been best friends for ages, but his mind twists it into something of a foreshadow, even though it’s not, it’s not) and the resurgence of his bad habits leaves a nasty taste in his mouth, but. Desperate times. Desperate measures. 

“Oh,” Logan says, disappointed, and Declan longs to explain -- what? 

He angrily shoves the emotions deep into his chest. If he can’t explain them, he’s not going to give them the right of control over his actions. 

(He ignores the prevalent fact that he has just lied to his best friend in order to escape his presence, but denial, evidently, is not just a river in Egypt). 

“Sorry,” Declan spits out, meaning so much more than it seems. He stands, grabs his backpack, shoving papers and folders into it haphazardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow,” Logan calls out hollowly. Declan takes that as his leave and he slips out Logan’s bedroom door, backpack in tow, keys clicking in his pocket. 

Something deep inside him aches. But he doesn’t know why. 

Frustrated, Declan gets into his car and slams the door shut, fingers white-knuckled against the steering wheel. He takes a breath. He’s fine, he’s fine. He’s probably just sick, or something. 

Or something. 

Not for the first time, Declan longs for a working aux connection. 

Because flicking through radio stations does not help. 

Lewis Capaldi croons Someone you loved on one, Sam Smith singing Dancing with a Stranger. He woefully flips through two channels on commercial break, groaning when the last one has Adele, which, really?

He remembers Virgil’s favorite station, and turns up the volume to forty, My Chemical Romance’s Mama screaming from his speakers. He pulls into his driveway with Hallelujah by Panic! at the Disco blowing his ears out when he remembers that Logan once spent hours rambling about Brenden Urie and a conspiracy about curses and he slams his palms on his steering wheel, furious. 

Can he not escape Logan for a moment? 

As Declan slams the car door shut, throwing his backpack over his shoulders, and freezes at the sight of the stupid Beware, dog sign that Logan had vandelized to read Beware, snake, he realizes that no, he really can’t. Because Logan is his best friend, his favorite person, and his life is irreversibly intertwined with Logan unless he up and leaves with absolutely nothing, starting from scratch. Which would be worse than death. 

He trudges up the stairs like a funeral dirge and when his door shuts with a click he leans against it, steadily sliding down until his knees almost touch his chin. 

“Fuck,” Declan says out loud, unable to keep the emotion termoil inside like it should be. 

His phone buzzes where it fell from his hands, angry against the carpet. Declan sighs. Rubs a hand down his face. And picks up the phone. 

There’s one text from Logan that reads, “are you okay? I’m not irritated but you left rather…” 

Well. The beginning reads as such. Declan assumes there’s more, but he’s unwilling to open it for the time being. 

Then he has three from Virgil, two of which reference an obscure meme video and the third which reads “r u home i wanna play dark souls on ur ps4”. 

And there’s a text from Patton asking if he wants normal chocolate chips or mint ones, and a followup that proclaims “never mind i got both! :3c”. 

He sends a quick “no” back to Virgil and merely opens the texts from Patton, leaving only Logan’s unopened. I’m not irritated but you left rather… suddenly? 

A strange emotion flutters about Declan’s chest and he groans. He doesn’t feel this way about his other friends, not even Virgil, who he’s known for ages and has gone through four too many devastating arguments to not be close with. Nor does he feel like this with Patton, his brother. Those bonds are, he’s certain, platonic--

Declan lurches forwards with a gasp, the realization bowling him over and leaving him breathless. He curls his fingers into the carpet, focusing on the texture instead of the immediate swirl of panic. 

He -- does he have a crush on Logan? Him, Declan, the aromantic king, who once boasted the world could never produce a human Declan could fall in love with?

And it doesn’t track with him falling for Logan either because Declan would have loved him months earlier, suddenly falling in love with someone he’s loved platonically… it just doesn’t make sense. Declan can’t wrap his mind around it. 

Maybe he’s just reading the emotions wrong. How can he -- what can he do that -- which -- 

What would Logan do? 

An experiment, Declan’s mind supplies helpfully, so, well. Declan pressed his back against the wood of his door and thinks. 

Hypothesis: he’s in love with Logan. 

In love? A very rational part of his brain yells. You were talking about a crush before!

So Declan thinks, and revises. Hypothesis: he’s feeling romantic attraction to Logan. 

Then he takes a few minutes trying to remember the following step in the scientific method and ends up looking it up on his phone, and it’s really long so he’s just going to cut some corners. 

Procedure: 

Well, Declan can’t think of any way to do this physically without making an entire fool of himself, so he changes the experiment into a thought experiment. 

Procedure: Consider emotions of other relationships and compare to feelings for Logan. 

Okay. Declan settles. He considers. He tries to imagine holding hands with Virgil and giving him flowers, but he can’t really picture giving Logan flowers either, so if it’s weird for both -- but he wants to hold Logan’s hand, not Virgil’s, and sometimes Patton’s, and Patton is his brother, he knows for sure his emotions are strictly platonic. So if Patton is the control group, the certainty of platonic emotions, Virgil is the one with normal emotions, and Logan has some weird emotions, so if Virgil and Logan’s are merely two different shades of friendship then Declan will know. 

Declan closes his eyes and imagines kissing Logan, because that’s what romantic partners do, right? He imagines stepping closer to him until there’s inches of space between them.. Declan thinks about leaning in, brushing lips before pressing in, heat curling in his chest and oh god, oh god Declan’s face is on fire. 

His eyes shoot open and he can only imagine how panicked he must look right now. He presses his hand against his chest, taking deep breaths. Then, reluctantly, he thinks about kissing Virgil -- nope, nope, eugh he physically shakes his head, gut rolling uncomfortably. 

So that is a big contender for Declan has romantic feelings for Logan. 

He sighs and clunks his head against the door. This sucks. Declan hates feelings. 

The door downstairs sounds, opening and closing, followed by a resounding, “HEY, CICI, LOVE YOU!” 

Dee sighs, a smile flickering across his face. He pushes to his feet and exits his room, wandering downstairs, aloof. 

“Hey Pat,” he says, leaning against a wall. 

“Ci, I’m making lots of cookies!” Patton declares, beaming at him, and Declan’s heart drops. 

His expression must, too, because Patton’s features are suddenly painted in concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“I should be asking you that,” Declan says, and he feels bad, unexpectedly, for not replying to Patton’s text earlier. “Lots of cookies? With mint and chocolate chips? Enough to feed an army?” 

Patton’s arms wilt and Declan reads the tremor in his shoulders, the glisten of his eyes. Patton tries for a smile and misses by a mile. 

Declan crosses to where Patton stands in five steps, wrapping his arms around his smaller brother, pressing his cheek against Patton’s head. “What’s wrong?” 

Patton takes a shuddering breath, returning the hug. “Nothing, really. I’m glad you’re home.” 

“Ah,” Declan says. He tightens his grip on Patton. “Do you want help?” 

“No.” Patton presses his face into Declan’s chest. He’s shaking, ever so slightly. “Can you talk with me at the counter, though?” 

“Of course,” Declan agrees, mentally side-tabling his emotional turmoil. 

“Okay,” Patton says. He’s quiet for a few more moments, then says, “And Steven Universe later?” 

“Anything,” Declan says. He makes a face. The word had slipped out unbidden, but Patton doesn’t tease him for it. 

“Alright.” Patton pulls away, takes a breath. “I’m about to make the best damn cookies the world has ever seen.” 

“Damn straight,” Declan says, grinning. Patton pauses for just one moment more before moving to the kitchen, dropping various ingredients onto the counter and moving smoothly to gather more. 

Declan wonders at his influence on Patton’s vulgar mouth, then shrugs. Patton’s a teenager. He can do what he wants. 

“Weren’t you hanging out with Logan?” Patton asks conversationally. He’s pulling down bowls and sugar, obviously expecting easy small talk. And normally Logan is easy for Declan to talk about. He talks about him all the time.  

So when Declan winces, Patton turns and addresses him with full attention, brows furrowed. “What? What happened?” 

“I…” Declan considers for a moment to just lie about it but dismisses the thought. This is Patton. “I think I have a romantic attraction for him.” 

Saying it out loud only cements the certainty in Declan’s chest. No, he hasn’t quite completed the experiment, but he just… knows. 

The knowledge is both relieves and spikes his anxiety about the whole situation. 

“Oh,” Patton says, eyes wide. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really,” Declan says honestly. 

“Alright,” Patton says. He turns back around and a wave of affection flows through Declan. “How did Roman do on his audition?” 

Declan hums, eternally grateful for Patton’s ability to turn the conversation away. They talk about Roman’s skill as an actor for a few minutes, jumping to Patton’s involvement in VEX robotics (focusing on the robotics instead of the people) and they kill about forty minutes with Patton talking about his baby bot, Pat Jr. 

When the clock strikes seven, Declan throws together two grilled cheese sandwiches and they eat in front of Steven Universe and the gems, Declan stretched out along the couch and Patton creating a throne of blankets for himself. 

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Patton murmurs, eyes never straying from the bursts of pastel on the screen, “but if you do have a romantic attraction to Logan it’s okay. You weren’t wrong in saying you’re aromantic. Because that fits you, you like it. There’s just more strings attached than you originally thought.” 

Declan blinks, the smallest smile growing on his face. “Thanks, Pat.” 

Patton hugs a pillow, eyes bright. “Love you, Ci.” 

Declan pushes his foot against Patton’s blanket pile in response. 

--

“Do you think we have to move?” Patton says, three hours into their movie night. 

Declan breathes, slowly inhaling as if it gives him an excuse to not reply. “I didn’t. I don’t want to. But probably.” 

“That’s why you haven’t told anyone,” Patton says. He shifts, turning to look at Declan. Declan maintains eye contact with the screen, despite having seen this movie countless times. “And why you told me to keep it under wraps.” 

“Yes,” Declan says, because really, he lies to the world, but he doesn’t lie to Patton. 

He tries not to lie to Patton. 

“But something changed yesterday.” Patton’s not asking questions. Somehow, he just knows, despite being left out of the loop. “And you were going to tell Logan today.” 

“Yes,” Declan says. Static thrums through his veins. Aladdin ignores a buzzing genie on screen, swatting him away to benefit his own desires. 

“What happened?” 

“Mom’s not getting out,” Declan says simply, because that’s it, really. Their mother is not getting out of jail. And with no father, their final hope is their uncle, three states over. Their father’s brother. 

Two months away from eighteen, and Declan is forced to concede. 

“When?” Patton asks. He’s trembling, but he’s not crying. Declan knows that will come later. 

“Because of the legal mixups and leaning on Sasha, two weeks, probably,” Declan says. Sasha is, of course, their next door neighbor, the crazy cat lady of the street who “watches” the boys “all the time”. 

“Two weeks,” Patton whispers. There’s a sheen in his eyes. Declan tries not to look but his gaze is like a magnet and Patton stares, stares, stares. “That’s not enough time. That’s not…”

Declan closes his eyes. 

He really thought he would win. 

He thought he could win. 

They only had to last two more months. His deadbeat mom had to last two months and they couldn’t even keep the legal proceedings--

He takes a breath. “Uncle Thomas is nice, at least.” 

“I don’t want uncle Thomas,” Patton snaps. 

“Well we don’t have a choice, Pat,” Declan bites out, stomach rolling at the words, eyes snapping open. 

Patton recoils, hurt flickering behind his eyes, but Declan knows it’s not enough to overpower the fire roaring in Patton’s lungs. “We did, we could have put more savings into mom’s defense, we could have found a place to live before it was our last resort but now we have to tell all our friends that we’re moving hundreds of miles away in two weeks!” 

“Mom doesn’t deserve to get out,” Declan spits. 

“I don’t CARE.” Patton’s fingers are clenched in fists. He stands. “I don’t care if mom deserves it or not. We deserve to stay.” 

“The world doesn’t work like that,” Declan says. 

Patton opens his mouth and snaps it shut, obviously restraining himself. A thousand emotions swim behind his eyes. Declan hates every single moment but he doesn’t say a word. 

He leaves. 

He leaves Declan sitting alone on the couch, watching Patton’s favorite movie. A door slams shut and Declan exhales heavily. They don’t get into fights, it’s just not -- Patton’s normally too upbeat to bother, Patton hates being angry, Declan normally doesn’t -- there’s nothing to get angry about, not in the grand scheme of things. They share easily, they have chaotic conversations, they… 

They’re fighting. 

Declan buries his head in his hands. He was too hopeful, too caught up on the possibility of the future to notice the sinkhole of reality. 

He really thought -- things would work out, Patton has his lucky charm of a personality and Declan works, he works hard, so things should -- Declan’s a senior in high school, halfway through the first semester, he should be worried about grades and school dances and friends and crushes and --

Logan. 

Declan curls, releasing something like a sob or maybe a dry heave. Whether or not he’s in love with Logan (most signs point to yes but there’s no way Declan’s addressing that) he still loves Logan, he loves being with him and talking to him and ordering his ice cream before Logan gets there to see the surprised and fond expression cross his face. 

Two weeks? 

To say goodbye to his best friend? 

Before moving, before picking up his entire life and his family (just -- Patton. Just Patton) and going somewhere Else?

Declan doesn’t feel like an adult. 

He doesn’t want to be an adult, either. 

Even if the world is asking him to be one. 

--

“You’re acting strange,” Logan observes. 

Declan shrugs. “I’m always strange.” He takes advantage of shoving fries in his face to avoid expounding. 

Logan sighs and puts down his burger. “Declan. Something’s going on.” 

Several somethings are going on, actually, but thanks. Declan shrugs again. “Haven’t been getting much sleep.” Which is a true statement. He’s written about ten different ways to tell Logan he’s leaving, nine of which are ripped up in the trash, one of which Declan just burned because he doesn’t want even scraps of that disaster to exist. 

Five days to go and Declan still hasn’t told him. Five days.  They don’t have many classes together, otherwise Logan would have pieced together the weird treatment from the teachers. Declan wonders if just disappearing into the void is an alright way to go, but a little Patton in his head chastises him for even considering it. 

Then again, at this rate…

“Hm,” Logan says. He has a thoughtful look on his face that’s absolutely devastating to Declan’s heart and general health and coherence of thought, let alone considering what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Is there a reason?” 

Declan considers, eyes narrowing as he stares at nothing. “I neglect to answer that question.” 

“So yes,” Logan says. The words fall from his lips with crushing sorrow. He takes a breath. “Why aren’t you telling me?” 

“Telling you what?” Declan says, internally wincing at the hurt flickering through Logan’s eyes.  

“Okay,” Logan says instead. He turns back to his food. 

They eat the rest of the meal in silence. 

-- 

Declan watches absentmindedly as Logan attempts to make a tower out of pens and pencils. With the addition of Roman’s copious amounts of colored pens, the tower is quite impressive. 

Two days. 

(Two Days).

Declan’s all packed. Sorta. Not really. He’s going to skip some classes in the future and pack all at once, throwing everything into the boxes (the empty boxes lining his room), not caring if anything breaks. 

He… 

He hasn’t told Logan yet. 

Or anyone, really, but Logan’s the one that -- the one that matters the most. 

Logan did, however, ask him if he was okay three times before leaving him be, because Logan knows that Declan becomes testy if asked the same question consistently. 

So basically, as far as Declan can figure, Declan’s a tool. Logan is trying, and Declan is giving him jack shit to work with. 

Patton has told all his friends, which means it’s only a matter of time before Logan finds out, right? Patton’s a sophomore, they’re seniors, and the school is large, but it’s also not as big as it seems. 

Roman, sitting next to him, hums under his breath as he types. He’s editing his college essay, which Declan would be doing if he had a college essay to edit and also cared enough. The atmosphere is strikingly calm, which leads to an anxious buzzing under Declan’s skin. 

Tell him. Just tell him. Just open your mouth and tell him. You’re in a library, he can’t get loud and yell. 

Declan wonders if yelling would be better, actually, than wide eyed stares and wounded expressions. 

He’s contemplating the merits of writing a letter (absolutely not, he doesn’t know why he’s even considering it) when he spots Patton out of the corner of his eye. 

Patton in and of himself does not scare Declan. 

The fact that he’s bee-lining for Declan and his friends does make him a bit nervous, though. 

“Cici,” Patton hisses. The cutesy play on Declan’s middle name sounds odd in such a harsh tone of voice. He glances at Logan before staring at Declan. 

Declan’s starkly aware of Roman and Logan’s attention when he says, “yeah?” 

“You told them?” Patton says, and Declan--

Well. 

A combination of fear and fury and regret zip through his veins at warp speed.

But Declan’s well trained in the art of deception. 

He schools his expression into one of cool indifference. “That I’m taking you for ice cream? Nah. I didn’t think they’d care. You wanna go right now?” 

Roman huffs a laugh, turning his attention back to his computer. Logan doesn’t look away, though, hand resting on a bright yellow flair pen. 

Patton’s brow furrows. “I mean the--”

“Man, if you were that impatient you could’ve texted me,” Declan interrupts with a long, drawn-out sigh. He stands, swinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I’ll see you guys later.” 

“Get me some ice cream next time,” Roman says, grinning. His gaze doesn’t leave his screen. “Bye, loser.” 

“Bye,” Logan echoes. 

Something registers in Declan’s brain-dead skull that Logan sounds lifeless because his best friend has been distant (Declan. Declan is Logan’s best friend). 

Declan pauses, sighs. Patton looks outraged and about two seconds from outing Declan. 

“I’m sorry,” Declan says. Logan looks up at him. “It’s not your fault. Just… I’m going through some things. You deserve to know. I shouldn’t shadow you without any info.” 

Patton looks even angrier, if possible, but then Logan’s talking and Patton hates interrupting people. 

“Okay,” Logan says, soft as ever. “I’ll wait for you.” 

And if that doesn’t make Declan feel like the nastiest motherfucker. 

“Let’s go,” Declan says, pulling Patton along before Patton lets loose. 

He opens his mouth, but Declan beats him to it, whispering, “Shh, we’re in a library.” 

“I cannot fucking believe you,” Patton hisses instead. 

“Language.” 

“You haven’t told them?” Patton exclaims. He yanks his wrist from Declan’s grip but continues following him, arms gesturing wildly. “You’re the worst.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Declan mutters. 

“You better get me ice cream now,” Patton says, crossing his arms. “After making me watch that.” 

“That’s fair,” Declan concedes, and then realizes he’s going to have to spent the next thirty minutes listening to Patton chastise him and -- 

Honestly, he deserves it, but he doesn’t want it, but before he can say anything, Patton says, “don’t even think about escaping this.” 

So he’s stuck listening to Patton chastise him for the next thirty minutes until their next class starts. 

But he gets a turtle sundae out of it, so it’s like, at least 20% a win. 

--

“CICI,” Patton screams from the living room. 

Declan shoots to his feet, tripping and slamming his knee into the doorframe, scrambling to reach Patton as swiftly as possible. He appears at the edge of the living room, hand pressed against the wall, chest heaving, eyes blown wide. “What? What is it?” 

He assesses Patton for damage, but Patton’s standing with his phone clutched between his fingers, shaking ever so slightly but appearing physically fine. He’s staring at Declan, lip trembling. 

“Patton?” Declan says. 

Patton opens his mouth, tears dripping down his cheeks. He sniffs, making an angry noise in the back of his throat as he wipes at his face. “I shouldn’t tell you! I should let you suffer because you’re mean.” 

“Patton,” Declan says, approaching his brother like one might a wild animal. 

Patton shakes his head and Declan stops. 

“I’m upset!” Patton says. Then he lets out a laugh, choked. “But I’m so relieved.”

Declan doesn’t say anything. 

Patton sniffles a few more times, then peeks at Declan through his fingers. Declan tries for a smile, sheepish. Patton smiles back, watery and soft. His shoulders shake as he laughs softly, his phone pressed against his cheek. “I was so scared.” 

“Me too,” Declan says. 

“I’m sorry,” Patton says, the anger draining from his face and leaving a wide-eyed pile of nerves. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not mean. You’re just scared.” 

“It’s okay,” Declan says. His arms hand limply by his sides. He wants to do something with them, to cross his arms or put them in his hoodie pockets or something, but he also wants to leave them available for when Patton wants a hug, so he stands awkwardly instead. “I forgive you.” 

“I’ve been calling Uncle Thomas,” Patton says. 

Declan’s heart does something funny in his chest. 

Patton pulls his hands away from his face, rubbing his cheeks clean, staring at his phone for a few moments before his hand drops, dangling at his side. “He’s -- he said he’s coming here. His job can be done online and the stuff he can’t do online he’ll fly back for which won’t be often, he said it’s important to him that we -- have a support system throughout highschool, and he wants us to finish here before doing anything else.” 

The information barely filters through Declan’s mind because when Patton exhales another sob Declan steps forward and envelops him in his arms on instinct. Patton’s legs go weak. Declan sinks to the ground, Patton pressing his face into Declan’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Patton mumbles. “I don’t know why I’m crying. This is good. This is good.” 

“Sometimes emotions have a funny way of showing,” Declan says. He runs his fingers through Patton’s hair, untangling the curls. “You’ve been stressed. It’s okay.” 

“Why aren’t you crying?” Patton says. He taps his palm against Declan’s chest, reminiscent of a smack without any of the power. “It’s not fair.”

Declan laughs, sort of. “I might later. I don’t know. Emotions are weird.” 

“You never told your friends you were moving,” Patton says. “Will they ever find out?” 

“Probably,” Declan says. He squeezes Patton. “I know you told your friends. It’s better your way. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.” 

“Mm.” 

Declan can feel the rise and fall of Patton’s chest. It slows as Patton calms down. “We don’t have to move,” Patton murmurs. 

“We don’t have to move,” Declan agrees, and Patton presses even closer. 

--

Declan doesn’t know how he finds his way to the beach but at one point he’s baking Patton cookies and the next he’s sitting on a slab of concrete overlooking the pitch dark waves. He knows Patton is sleeping, or is at least pretending to sleep. He vaguely remembers writing a note in case Patton looks for him. 

It’s been three days since Patton discovered Uncle Thomas’s moving plans. Discovered? Convinced? Declan isn’t sure. 

And he doesn’t really know how to react. He’s been moving on autopilot, making dinner, doing homework, putting in minimal effort into his friendships so they don’t abandon him on the side of the road -- 

No. Declan shakes his head. Putting minimal effort into his friendships because his friends don’t deserve to be cut off without a word. 

Nothing feels right. 

(Something is off). 

He hears footsteps and before he can whip around, before fear has the chance to truly take over his body, he hears, “this seat taken?” 

“No,” Declan says, and Logan sits next to him on the concrete. They’re quiet for a few moments, watching the reflection of the moon, tasting salt on their tongues. 

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Logan says finally. 

Declan closes his eyes, breathes. His emotions are all tangled up in his chest and he doesn’t want to tap into it for fear that if he lets out a little he’ll let out everything. 

But Logan deserves to know. 

(He deserves someone better.)

“My mom lost,” Declan says, which sounds nicer than it did in his head. “She’s unfit to care for us, anyway, but now she’s officially calling prison her new home.” 

Logan’s quiet. Declan listens to his breathing. He spies Logan’s hand against the concrete and longs to close the distance and entangle their fingers, just for a modicum of physical comfort. The slightest hint of warmth permeates the air around Logan and Declan wants to lean closer, to press their arms together. 

“My Uncle, on my dad’s side, is taking care of us. He… wasn’t originally going to move here, but Patton talked to him and he decided moving here is the best course of action.” Declan shifts. He doesn’t know how to say it. He doesn’t know how to explain. 

Logan stops breathing. 

“I almost lost you,” he says, and it’s barely a whisper. 

Declan glances at him and can barely comprehend the amount of horror shining in Logan’s eyes. Logan’s staring at him, expression open and terrified. “I almost…” He exhales, shaking. Declan watches him so closely he can see the sticking of his chest as he breathes, the tremor of his shoulders. 

Declan’s heart stutters and he wants to tear his gaze away but he owes, he owes Logan this. Even though the only thing he wants to do is run away, to preserve himself. “I -- I never told you,” Declan says, more scared than he has been in a long time. He opens his mouth and stops, shrinking away. He looks over Logan’s shoulder, unable to maintain eye contact. “We were supposed to leave two days ago. I was going to tell you and then…” 

Then I found out that I’m in love with you, and it freaked me out so much I closed myself off. 

Logan’s truly shaking, and Declan doesn’t know what to do. You caused this. This is your fault. 

“Ugh! I’m sorry,” Declan exclaims. He can’t stand this, these tentative moments, fragile as glass. He wants to take a hammer to the whole affair. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not much but I was scared, and it’s not a valid excuse, but I was terrified, Logan, I couldn’t leave you! You mean too much to me!” 

“You mean a lot to me too,” Logan says, but Declan’s on a roll, now, there’s no stopping the hurricane in his heart. 

He moves his gaze to the waves, finding solace and energy in the constancy. “I was going to tell you when we were hanging out a few weeks ago in your room, and then I freaked out because -- and then I left, and haven’t been able to figure out how to word it since, and Patton’s better than I am, he told his friends almost immediately, imagine, having worse emotional competency than a fifteen year old--”

“Roman found out,” Logan says, grinding Declan’s tangent to a halt. “He mentioned something to me but I needed to hear it from you.” 

Declan stares at him. 

“I asked Patton if you were at home,” Logan explains. Declan can barely tell in the shadows, but Logan’s face seems to darken. “When he said no, I knew there was one other place you would go. Probably.” 

Declan worries his lip. He’s that predictable? 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Logan asks, quiet. 

“Because…” Liquid anxiety slogs through his veins. His voice drops, quiet, quieter than the sound of waves. “Because I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.” 

For a second all he can hear is the crash of the sea and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He doesn’t know why the moon isn’t falling from the sky, why the stars haven’t combusted, because his world feels like it’s falling apart at the seams. 

“I discovered that,” Declan continues, the words slipping between his lips before his mind has any say in the matter, “and didn’t know what to do, and then I needed to tell you I was leaving, and I love you, and I couldn’t. Because I’m a coward.” 

Another beat. Declan takes a long breath. “I still love you. And I’m no longer leaving.” 

“I suppose… now would be a bad time to bring up demiromanticism?” Logan tries. 

“It would be a terrible time, but thank you,” Declan says, and he can’t help the small puff of laughter that escapes. 

“I love you too,” Logan says, then, and Declan can’t breathe. 

He turns to Logan without thinking, searching his sapphire blue eyes for deception even though Logan has never, ever lied to him. He can’t hope, he can’t dare to hope, the world would never give him two miracles. “Don’t trick me.” 

“I’m in love with you,” Logan clarifies, nervous. His hands are wringing together and he’s biting his lip. 

Declan reaches out, fingers trembling, to brush against Logan’s cheek. “You…”

“I’ve been in love with you,” Logan says. He’s looking down, away from Declan’s gaze, but he leans into his touch. “For awhile. I never wanted to bring it up because… you were so adamant about being separate from romance…”

“I thought I was,” Declan says honestly. “Which is why this is a real fucking trip, let me tell you.” 

Logan laughs, and some of the tension in the air dissolves. “I can imagine.” 

“God, I love you,” Declan says. He brushes his thumb underneath Logan’s eye. 

“I love you too,” Logan says, eyes wide and sparkling, then he moves forward and cradles Declan’s head in his hands and Declan short circuits because he’s right there he’s RIGHT THERE and he’s touching him he loves him he loves him--

“You’re gorgeous,” Logan says, and Declan just stares at him dumbly because his mouth stops working. His heart is barely going, the only reason he’s not dead is because his body has some sort of instinctive survival instinct, or something. 

Emotion clog his throat and Declan doesn’t know how he’s not sobbing already so he’s unsurprised when the smallest tear slips out of his eye. 

“Oh,” Logan says, wiping the tear away. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s -- it’s not -- it’s not you,” Declan chokes out. “God. This is so embarrassing.” 

“I don’t care,” Logan says. He leans closer, pressing their foreheads together and staring into Declan’s eyes. “It’s okay to cry.” 

Declan smiles thinly, blinking away tears. “I don’t deserve you.” 

Logan stares at him, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You’re so beautiful,” Declan says. His trembling hands hold Logan’s jaw. “And you’re so smart and passionate, and you have the most wicked sense of humor, and you’re my best friend.” 

“No,” Logan shakes his head. “I mean, I am your best friend, but there’s no deserve in a relationship. We’re just people. People make mistakes. I make mistakes. Please don’t sell yourself short.” 

Declan wants to say that only proves how good Logan truly is, but he settles for a simple, “Okay.” 

Logan brushes hair out of Declan’s eyes, then sighs, dropping his head to Declan’s shoulder. Declan’s hands slide down to Logan’s upper back.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Declan says. 

“I’m glad you’re here too,” Logan replies, muffled. He pulls away for a split second, eyes blurry and a crease already showing from his glasses pressing into his skin. “But if you withhold life-altering information like that from me again there will be issues.” 

“I won’t,” Declan says. He swallows. He hates promises. He hates them, because he never feels like he can maintain them. “I’ll… I’ll try my hardest.” 

Logan searches his gaze, nods, and then presses fully into Declan. 

“Woah, okay.” Declan shifts as Logan clings to him like a koala bear. Logan’s basically in his lap and Declan, well. Declan has no complaints. 

“I can do this as much as I want because we’re in love with each other,” Logan mutters, and wow, if that doesn’t send a thousand vibrations across his skin. In love with each other. 

Declan grins. He likes the sound of that. 

“You know,” Logan says conversationally. His fingers trail up to press against Declan’s face, outlining his lips. “I love it when you smile.” 

Declan hums, his smile broadening. Me too, Logan. 

Me too.

[k1nky-fool]

*blinks cutely* uwu I bring a gift love you

Mania Rhizo and Pepper pease for me 👉👈

blue hawaii, mahattan, gin rickey, dirty banana, and for shits and giggles, woo woo

Of course! Love to answer.

𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗶𝗶 〜 does your oc speak any other language(s)? if they didn’t learn to speak the language(s) when they were growing up, when and why did they learn it?

Mania - She is nearly fluent in Spanish because she grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico in a predominantly Hispanic area.

Rhizo - She is half Chirean, and she does speak Chirean just because she grew up with it, and it comes more naturally to her.

Pepper - Definitely not. Sorry, but Pepper is terrified of learning new languages because her worst fear is offending someone when she doesn't mean to. She wants her offense to be on purpose.

𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗵𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗻 〜 what kind of people does your oc hate the most?

Mania - Overconfident pompous assholes… but maybe that's just because it takes one to know one. Mania has a real problem with authority. Anyone that tries to give her an order, she will disobey out of spite.

Rhizo - She's a tattoo artist in the Entresol layer of the undercity. This woman is very deadpan, and she hates just about everyone. If she had to choose one though, it'd be anyone that tries to explain her own goddamn job to her like they own the place.

Pepper - The easy answer is anybody that even looks at her daughter wrong, but the more complicated answer is anyone that demands respect without earning it. Especially if they demand her respect without earning it.

𝗴𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆 〜 what does your oc consider to be their best feature? alternatively, what’s something they’re most self conscious about?

Mania - Best feature: She worked too hard for her mechanical skills to not be proud of them.

Rhizo - Insecurity: She idolized her uncle in many ways for his kindness and understanding, as well as his strength in the face of adversity. Rhizo believes that she'll never live up to his example, and struggles with her own self worth.

Pepper - Best feature: A little more on the vain side, she may admit, but she thinks her accent is just the cutest darned thing. It can either make her sound sweet or confidently intimidating, and she loves how it can mesmerize some folks to the point where they're listening to everything she says without understanding a damn word.

𝗱𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮 〜 post a song or a lyric that fits your oc

Mania - "If I'm crazy, I'm on my own. If I'm waiting, it's on my throne." What's up Danger by Blackaway & Black Caviar.

Rhizo - "Don't you breathe on me; undeserving of your sympathy, 'cause there ain't no way that I'm sorry for what I've done." Sleep by My Chemical Romance.

Pepper - "Desperation will erase the fact I'm keeping all of the answers in my cigarette box. Yeah, the answer's in the second before the other shoe drops, and if you're blind to that, I am fine with that." Tongues and Teeth by The Crane Wives.

𝘄𝗼𝗼 𝘄𝗼𝗼 〜 what’s their relationship like with their parent(s)/guardian(s)?

Mania - Her dad owned the mechanic shop she was employed at, but she can't say much about her mom. Never knew her, and when she was curious in her childhood, her dad just said he didn't know where she was. She never asked again, and it's not like there were any traces of her in their house.

Rhizo - She grew up with her parents until about the age of eight. They died in the bridge invasion, and her uncle looked after her after that. When she imagines her parents though, her uncle is always the first that comes to mind.

Pepper - Parents? Don't know her. Pepper has been on her own for as long as she can remember. Nobody ever really stepped up to take care of her, which is probably why she's so protective and loyal to Sketch. She clung to anyone that would give her attention, and she paid the price for it. She takes that lesson now and lives by it.

[blanckatt-milk]

➷ ϡ ✎ for Videl (I'm curious to know if he sleeps in a coffin xD) ✿➷✄ - for Pandora (murdermewithink) *3* be busy

@murder-me-with-ink ((u so noice!!!!))

Videl 

Send ➷ for a sports headcanon. 

Videl is an active child, he would enjoy himself with any sport he plays but would always find a way to cheat and look like the victim if accused. he always pointing the finger at someone else. many tend to believe Videl and is always walking away with a proud grin on his face. YOU LIL SHIT

Send ϡ for a sleep headcanon 

Videl does in fact sleep in a coffin when bed time does come around and when he wants to take small naps in the afternoon he sleeps upside down from the ceiling, extending his wings to wrap himself around like a blanket. Theodore and Pandora find this adorable yet creepy. EXTRA: his nose slightly twitches when he sleeps and his snores are to die for

Send ✎ for a school headcanon.

the vamp would be a troublemaker and if he had a favorite subject it would be science! he is very skilled in chemicals and gases especially with explosives. you can call him the boy genius! he creates new experiments on his freetime and spreads chaos throughout town .learning more is what he hungers, achieving for the worst to come in toon town.

Pandora   

Send ✿ for a happy memory.

Pan’s happiest memory would have to be when she taught Videl how to use his wings, she would teach him baby steps for him when Videl would just jump off a cliff and flap his wings, giving her heart-attacks every now and then. he is getting a hang of it but itsnt quite ready to go solo. it was that time when they actually bond together

she is a good mom bean

cue the awes

Send ➷ for a sports headcanon.

 if Pandora wasnt around the manor she would spend her time when needed at the Holy Cathedral where there nuns take care of the orphans (this is why Videl hates churches, NUNS) she is very flexible and strong, using her energy and time on the children when it comes to activities

flying with them is banned and she is still pissed about that

Send ✄ for a favourite movie of my muse’s. 

she is a sucker for romance and action movies. any movie that has some badass moves and a pinch of love dust would make her want to squeal and not want to leave the couch. Videl and Pandora would constantly fight over the tv and Theodore would separate the two. 2 LIL SHITS