#tlb 1987

[callisoapy]

for everyone wanting context abt the “get the hell away from me you big scary man”, here ya go (creds to _.stay_gold._ on tiktok, as this cameo belongs to them!!!)

[callisoapy]

brian saying “get the hell away from me you big scary man!!” is my new vocal stim thank youuuuu

[your-compadre-infinity]

Tell me whatever want I'll listen!

CW: child abused (implied), homophobia

I have this very sad backstory for Michael

Michael’s gay. He’s been aware of this since he started high school. He hasn’t told anyone, not even his mother. He also didn’t feel particularly safe in Phoenix, because his father was also around, and uh. Yeah we know about Mr Emerson.

Michael would’ve stayed in the closet forever, except he worked at this fast food restaurant part there. And he found out that one of his classmates had the same shift as him. Some guy named Charlie. They worked together, and later on, Michael got feelings for him and Charlie reciprocated. So they started dating in secret outside of school and work.

Michael thought everything was going to be fine, he thought he and Charlie could’ve been happy together. Except, as it turns out, Charlie was actually a bitch and he outed Michael to the entire school, just for fun.

News travelled fast. Michael became everyone’s target for bullying and harassment at school. Michael’s only reprieve was Lucy and Sam were out of town that week because Sam wanted to go to a comic convention a few states away.

His dad, however, was home; and it didn’t take long for him to hear about the news. I won’t go into too much detail, but Michael thought he almost died that night.

After that, Michael didn’t pursue anyone anymore. He started by closing himself off, started isolating himself from school, work, and even his family.

Lucy divorced her husband about a year later and Michael moved away from Phoenix and his father, away from the humiliation and fear. But still, he couldn’t find the courage to be himself, even in Santa Carla.

Sad boy Michael 😔

[theprosemuse]

Hi! I love your writing style and im also a big fan of the lost boys! Could you do another gn reader x david fic (with a lil poly in there because who am I kiddin', its all or nothing with them) with some angst and hurt comfort. It can be whatever flavor of angst you want

𝒻ℯℯ𝓁 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾 𝒻ℯℯ𝓁, 𝒽𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝒾 𝒽𝓊𝓇𝓉

a/n: i recognize that posting so close together is slightly psychpathic. i do not care :-D

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: the anniversary of a loved one's death sends you spiraling and one of your partners is there to catch you and to wipe your tears away.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: poly!lost boys x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1.9k

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: death of a family member, visceral grieving, brief mention of mc death (doesn't happen), swearing, slight relationship conflict, so much grieving angst (that's the whole thing)

"I see a line of cars and they're all painted bla-ack."

Mick Jagger's voice echoed into the main cavern from a distant somewhere in the cave, near the roost where you'd been all night.

Paul pushed himself up from his seat on the couch, jumping up to pace the edge of the fountain. "Okay, listen, I like the Stones as much as the next guy, but not the same song forty fuckin' times."

"Forty-seven." Marko chimed in.

David didn't bother to look up from his book, the command clear even in his dry tone. "Leave them be."

"It's been three hours." Paul dragged his hands down his face. "Can't you just ask 'em to put on somethin' else?"

David snorted, kicking his legs over the arm of his well-loved wheelchair. "Yeah, sure. Then, I'll braid their hair, and we'll gab 'bout Morrissey."

He only smirked when Paul scoffed with indignation.

"You got a problem?" David fiddled with the strap on his glove. "You can deal with it."

"Today's hard for them." Dwayne called over his shoulder, smoking a fresh joint by the cave's entrance. "Cut 'em some slack."

"I've been cuttin' them slack. Now, my ears are about to bleed." Paul turned toward the direction of the blaring music. "How is it possible for me to hate this song?"

"Go tell 'em to cut it out." Marko shrugged from his spot on the floor, surrounded by a mess of buttons, patches, and chains. "It's our angel face. I'm sure they'll be nice about it. Understandin'."

His lies were punctuated by a shit-eating grin that had David letting out a bark of laughter, but Paul seemed to ignore the obvious lying, anyhow.

"Y'know what? It's me. They love me." Paul nodded to himself, walking deeper into the cavern towards the roost.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Marko looked at his other two partners. "What's the over-under on him getting his ass handed to him?"

Dwayne called back, "They're not an animal."

"A minute and a half." David answered with no hesitation.

"I give him one," Marko snickered.

Paul returned two minutes after he'd left, stepping slowly back into the cavern with a look of surprised defeat.

Marko chuckled as the familiar sitar notes signaled a new playthrough of your song. "Didn't do well, I take it?"

"They threw a hairbrush." Paul's hand rose to pointed to his unharmed orbital bone. "At my face."

David just snorted, "Don't say I didn't warn you. And, you" he glanced at Marko, "owe me."

Dwayne stood, stubbing out the barely cindering roach of his joint. "I'll go talk to 'em."

Paul raised two fingers for a half-hearted salute, "Godspeed, brave soldier."

"Don't be nervous." Marko called at Dwayne's retreating back. "They can smell fear."

They ought to have given him more credit. He lasted four minutes.

David could only sigh. It seemed as though Paul's problem would have to be his problem. ___

Your spot in the roost was, first of all, barely a roost.

One of the few things that remained of your humanity, your fear of falling, hadn't been kicked quite yet. So, when you realized that you couldn't bring yourself to sleep with the boys, you improvised.

A curtain rod, stuck between the rock and rubble, was just high enough for you to hang comfortably. It was the shortest fall to the floor, at least. And, that was where David found you, upended and eyes half-lidded with your stereo right next to your ear.

You mumbled. "Please, don't talk."

His voice reverberated in your mind, eyes unblinking as they stared into yours. That's fine. I won't talk.

"Not what I meant," you grumbled, eyes peeling open as you got down from the roost to sit on the ground.

He stared at you, and you stared back. The silence filled the gap about as well as a chasm.

"I didn't mean to be mean to Paul and Dwayne," you said, looking down at your hands as you picked at your fingernails. Sitting under his gaze made you feel like you were in the principal's office. "Paul just wouldn't stop talking, and Dwayne tried to turn off the radio."

Radio's annoying, David conceded. But, I'm not here to scold you.

"Why don't you just go, then?" You furrowed your brows, shrinking into yourself.

He moved close and sat down next to you, shoulder barely touching yours as he rested his elbows on his knees. You shouldn't be alone, as much as you want to be, he answered.

You glanced upward, seeing his eyes still locked on your face. "I didn't say I wanted to talk either."

Didn't come for that, either.

"What do you want then, David?" You asked, exasperation masking the emotions under the surface. The ones behind the floodgate. "Because I'd rather you just leave me alone, if you're gonna be this way."

Let me in. It wasn't a command, even if it was phrased like one. That was easy to sense. It was an offer as much as it was a request. You don't have to hide from me.

Something bobbed at the back of your throat. "You don't want to see."

There's nothing in there that would frighten me. Nothing that would make me angry at you.

You watched as his face, sharp and unmoving, softened. "Nothing you don't already know, either," you answered back softly. "Are you sure?"

Always.

Before his mind closed in around yours, you were already moving toward him, shifting over to curl up in his lap.

His arm wound around your shoulder and the other cupped your face as your cheek rested against his chest.

Cold, pale, clammy skin. A counting of ribs. The flatline screaming in your ear. "Please, I can't see…" Your brother's hand clasping yours and slowly loosening. Screaming as your heart rips in two.

He retreated and you were sobbing before your mind was your own again.

"He-" You were interrupted by the sob that tore through you. "I still hear him, in my dreams. I-If I had gotten there sooner. If I had known-"

"Shh." He abandoned his hold on your thoughts, steeled against his own emotions while he helped you with yours. "He didn't want you to know. There was nothing you could've done."

You trembled, threading your fingers into his coat. "How can you know that? You can't."

To that, he was silent.

"A-and I get to go on living forever. That's really the worst part of it all." Your free hand worked fruitlessly to wipe the tears from your eyes. "I can't even die. I'll never see him again if I don't-"

"Stop," he interrupted, his grip on you tightening. "Don't say that. Don't think it."

You did as he asked, quiet as you shook against him. "I'm sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry." He sighed, resting his chin atop your head as his eyes fluttered shut. "You don't have to apologize, angel. It's just… that's not something I enjoy thinking about."

Your stomach churned at the idea. An eternity with your loves abruptly ended. The thought was more horrifying than sad.

"I… You know I love you." Mumbling it was easier than saying the obvious truth with your whole chest. "And the others."

"I do."

"I just miss him so much."

"I know, angel." His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping a stray tear away. He might've already known the answer, but he decided to ask anyway. "What was he like?"

"He was funny. He played the guitar really well. I didn't really see him for his last two years, but his boyfriend told me that he volunteered at the Y after he moved to New York. He was… the best." You replied without hesitation. "You would've liked him." A thought crossed your mind that made a laugh spill out. "He'd have hated you."

David scoffed, the sound more amused than anything else, "Is that so?"

"He didn't like people being overbearing," you clarified. "Or the idea of me doing, uh, anything. Anyone." You added the last bit under your breath.

David hummed appreciatively, nodding in agreement with the sentiment. "He'd be glad to know you loved him so much."

"I did."

A beat passed and you wound your arms around his neck, pulling him in close. You breathed in his scent, smoke and leather and sea salt. It made your body relax.

"Thank you for asking about him." You murmured against his throat, pressing a kiss under his ear. A sense of satisfaction bloomed in your chest when he shivered at your touch.

"You don't have to thank me." He answered, fingers grazing the nape of your neck. "What you should do…" You pulled back and looked at him, waiting. "… is apologize to Paul."

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, averting your eyes as you reached across to turn your radio off.

"Then tell me exactly what it looked like when you nailed him in the face."

The loud laugh bubbled out of you, unrestrained, due to the sheer surprise at David making a joke. Hell must've been in the middle of freezing over.

"I'm serious. I'm jealous I didn't do it myself."

"I heard that!"

___

You did end up apologizing to Paul at the end of the night. Thoroughly. Many times. (He kept asking you to kiss his eye better, what else were you supposed to do?)

At David's suggestion, you dug out the photo album you'd had saved before you and your brother ran away from your old life.

After the required burning of your parents' photos, which was quite the delight, you flipped through the pages and showed them everything, surrounded by them as you sat on the floor.

"Aw, such a charmer." Marko pointed at a photo of you as a toddler, stood next to your brother who was wearing his brand-new kindergarten backpack. "A dollface since the very beginning."

"I have yogurt on my face." You scoffed, taking the picture out of the album's sleeve.

"Still charming."

"Damn, you were a looker." Paul leaned over you from his spot on the couch and plucked a photo of teenaged you from the album. Your quick shout of protest had him adding, "Still are!"

As you flipped the pages, you came across a photo from your brother's high school graduation. You'd thrown your arms around him from the picture, actions speaking more for your emotions than your expression, which was as neutral as his.

Time had stolen the smile from him, but his face was still round with childhood. You were lucky enough that your lovers had brought your smile back to you.

Your fingernail traced the line of his shoulder. "I wish he could be here."

"He is here." Dwayne spoke, his hand winding over your shoulder to rest atop your heart. "He'll always be there."

The sudden wash of feeling that came over you had you wanting to run from the tidal wave, and you felt your heartbeat quicken in the moment as the instinct made you lurch forward.

This time, though, you let yourself feel. There wasn't a safer place to feel earth-shattering grief than with your partners. Your devoted, frustrating, wonderful partners.

Sunrise came hours later, but not before you were gathered up by your boys and showered with more affection than you could take in at once. Your broken heart felt full, pieces picked up and stitched back together by their love.

a/n: (tldr- i hope you enjoyed, don't expect daily posts, please keep sending requests and commenting your thoughts!)

so, did i have a slight freakout when i got my first request? ...nooo, of course not, what? i totally didn't screech into my empty apartment... for about ten seconds. eh, i digress. i do hope you enjoyed and my writing lived up to your request. writing is what helps me process the difficult emotions that i'm feeling personally, and with the anniversary of my grandmother's death coming up, this was very cathartic. so, thank you for the request!

it's semi-crazy of me to respond to a request in less than 24 hours, but hey i'm crazy. i also had a little drabble of this already kinda written, so thankfully it didn't take super long! (seriously, i wouldn't expect daily posts, but i might just post the next request i got tomorrow because i've kinda been working on them both all day 😬 )

as i've said, requests are open, so please keep sending them!

thanks to @saradika-graphics for the divider!

[hyp0criticaltypwriter87]

I told you you'd get Vampire!Chrysta at the end of the movie, and I have served her to you all. 🙏 don't EVER let me draw like this EVER again btw

[close ups under the cut🦇]

[topherbudlight]

David is the type of guy to say "back in my day..!" And it'll be about something that was just last week or even just five minutes prior.

[shakespearenatural]

Sometimes a family is an ex-hippie, a queer comic book nerd, an undead teenager with ptsd, his undead goth girlfriend and two guys who think they're marines

[poubelle-d-elle]

Please indulge me another doodle of Morgan and Paul. She interacts with the others just as much, but Paul is just so fun to draw. Plus, he’s tall, Morgan is short. That is her perch so she can keep an eye on shit.