A blog dedicated to various fandoms, oc works, and other creative endeavors.
Asks are open, but please mind that I have the right to not reply or delete asks if they make me uncomfortable, or if the blog is a bot. I also reserve the right to block for the same reasons. Thank you!
Relevant links:
The Lost Boys general tag
The Lost Boys YCCM tag
The Lost Boys ao3 drabbles
Stranger Things general tag
Bluesky account is thinkblotted.bsky.social
Pillowfort account is pillowfort.social/thinkblotted, here
Would love an introduction to the Anthrovore Support Network. My curiosity is piqued.
Thanks 😊
This one got away from me a bit lol! I hope you enjoy!
- Excerpt from the Arizona Tribune, July 3rd, 1951 -
...And just like that, the Supernatural could be anyone. Your friends, your neighbors, the people in your local schools and grocery stores and sports teams. They are among us, and have been since the dawn of human kind. What the Government and the people of the United States and all other countries in the world do next will define us into the future, whatever it may be.
-
The Paranatural Ward of St. Joseph’s General is alarmingly quiet. Aside from the regular sounds of a hospital, beeps and rustling and the occasional cough from the others in the waiting room, the silence is heavy and eerie. The lights are low and flicker occasionally, an irregular rhythm that puts Michael’s painfully sharp senses on edge. He’s been here for what feels like hours, but it might be only a handful of minutes. It’s hard to gauge time here, The whole ward is below ground, far away from the sun, which is now apparently deadly to him. His fangs prick at his lips, new and heavy in his mouth. He wishes they’d let him call his mom. Not that he’d know what to say. It’s been an awful night.
“Emerson?”
Michael’s head snaps up, and his gaze settles on the nurse who’s called his name. He’s young, younger than expected, with sandy blond hair styled in a spiky, but soft looking swoop. He has a few days of scruff on his face, and deep bags under his eyes. Altogether a normal nurse.
Except for the blood red stripe on his grey-teal scrubs.
This guy’s an anthrovore.
Michael stands up, hands balled into fists in the pockets of his coat. The Anthrovore smiles.
“Follow me please.”
Michael does, and the nurse leads him down the hallway into the ward proper. Every few feet, there’s a door with a large glass panel set into the side. Inside, there’s beds, tables. They look a little like a cross between normal hospital rooms and a college dorm. The signs set into the wall every few meters declare this the ‘Intake’ wing, and point the directions to ‘Lycanthropy’, ‘Toxicology’ and ‘Long Term’ among others, different departments that the Para Care Unit specializes in.
The nurse arrives at an open door, and motions inside.
“Have a seat, I just need to grab some forms.”
Michael doesn’t want to have a seat. He wants to run screaming from the building. But the nurse is watching him with wary, tired eyes and he feels his skin prickle with the awareness that if he runs, he’ll be caught.
He steps into the room.
It’s a small space, a bed with a side table and a small cabinet, probably for medical supplies. Michael... isn’t sure where to sit. The bed, maybe, because he’s a patient, but the thought of that makes him nervous. He doesn’t want to be in a position which leaves him exposed. But the chairs, that doesn’t seem right either. He’s not here for a checkup. He’s here because-
Because-
The nurse comes back, a sheaf of documents attached to a well worn clipboard and a pen in his left hand.
“Here.” He gestures to the table, and Michael sits, now the decision’s been made for him. The nurse sits across the table, setting down his board. His badge catches Michael’s attention.
It’s a neat, well maintained card, carefully laminated. The photo looks identical, either new, or a sign that the nurse is one of the immortal types of Paras. A vampire, then, confirmed by the red drop symbol next to his name. David Williams - RD. He takes a minute to collect himself, then fixes his eyes on Michael.
“Right, Okay. Michael Emerson, eighteen years old, yeah? Let’s get this over with, then we can get you a bed and you can sleep before the sun comes up.”
Michael swallows nervously.
“O-okay.”
David smiles reassuringly.
“You’re okay, Michael. We’re here to help. I just need to ask a couple of questions. Can I do that?”
Michael nods, and David smiles again, reassuring.
"Okay, first up, How long since contact with the sire?"
"Uh."
David raises an eyebrow at him, though its not unkind.
"Just approximately, if you can't remember."
"Maybe a day ago?" Michael manages. It’s a blur, honestly. David scribbles something down on one of his forms.
"Mm. And you've fed?"
Michael shudders, images flashing in his mind. The girl he'd attacked, the way her blood had splashed hot and bright across his tongue. Her friends had screamed, but he hadn’t heard it until after the fact.
He remembers the paramedics though, They'd taken her away at the scene. Right before they restrained him.
"Did she die?" Michael asks before he can stop himself.
David sighs, bringing his free hand up to rub at his face.
"You wouldn't be here if she hadn't."
Michael hunches in his seat, his head spinning. What had he done?
What the fuck had he done.
"I know," David says gently. "We have a counselor coming in at midnight, I can tell them you'd like to chat, if you want?"
A counselor. For comforting him when he'd been the one to kill someone. Michael just shakes his head, unsure of what he'd say to anyone. If he's capable of that right now.
"Okay," David continues, his voice impossibly calm and even. "So, right off, I am informing you that legally, you are safe from prosecution for the first."
"What?"
"Your first kill. You have amnesty for it. It's been law since about 2000."
"But- But I killed someone!"
"Yes. And you won't be punished."
Michael makes a strangled noise, head in his hands.
"I need you to answer a few more questions Michael. Can you do that?"
Michael shakes his head. He hears David shift, reaching over the table. A cold hand gently squeezes his shoulder.
"It's going to be alright."
"How can you say that?" Michael mumbles. Any other time, he'd be horrified by his tone, talking to someone who's just trying to help, in an environment where people aren't at their best anyway, but it just. Seems so jarring. How can anything be alright now?
The nurse gives him a small smile, a tilt of his head. "I'm still here, and the last time I saw the sun was one hundred and seven years ago."
"..Oh."
That's. A long time.
"Just a couple more questions, okay? I promise."
Michael swallows. "Okay."
He’s alone, terrified, a newly made monster. But maybe, maybe there’s something for him at the end of this. If the vampire across from him survived.
it’s not weird to find fanfiction from 2021, or 2017, or 2014 that you’ve never read and actually taking your time to read it.
it’s not weird to love it and comment and leave kudos because the author will probably still see it someday and it will make them happy.
it’s not weird to like said author’s work so much that you want to go look for other fics from them.
it’s not weird to go through the authors profile and look for other fics from the ships you like (or maybe some that you’ll give a chance because you liked the author) and maybe bookmark them for later.
it’s not weird to read these other fics and like them too and comment on them because you actually like them and you want to let the author know.
it’s not weird to read fanfiction from 5, or 8, or 10 years ago and actually enjoy and engage with it because it’s perfectly normal to relate to something that’s less than a decade old!
let’s stop treating fanfiction like they’re instagram posts that stop being interesting in 24 hours! fanfiction is NOT social media, fanfiction is art!!! and art doesn’t get old in one day, one year, or even a decade!
read fanfiction! write fanfiction! comment on fanfiction! let’s not let fanculture die people!!!!!
"But it's not FOR them!!!" The biggest military power in the world belongs to a christofascist nation overseen by a felon found guilty of 34 federal crimes and has greenlit a gestapo with more direct funding than the entire military of Canada for the purpose of ethnic cleansing. Let Hetero Jessica throw some biodegradable glitter at a municipal parade
I don't remember, does David have any scenes where he's actually wearing this costume without the white tank top like this, or did they just whore him out for fun when it was photoshoot time?
First request lmao
It's....wanna say late 20s? just before the depression really hit, and they're snitching fruit from some farmer's small backyard orchard
Trying not to wake the farm hounds, or be seen by the people in the house
But the peaches smell too good to pass up
Thank you! love you babe -3-
Thanks love! Here we go.
Summer, 1924 - somewhere in Georgia.
The night is sticky with summer heat and humidity. It lays heavy on the back of Dwayne's neck, his hair clinging to his skin and the damp collar of his shirt. He's crouched in low bushes, the scent of dust and green plants heavy in every unneeded breath he takes. This is stupid. He knows it is, but there's an unspoken anticipation in his limbs. David is crouched next to him, his pale hair a beacon in the moonlight. It makes him easy to spot. Risky, given their current objective.
"Ready?" Dwayne asks. This close, it would probably be smarter to communicate with their bond instead of out loud, but he's nervous. Still new to this. David is a forgiving teacher though.
"Should be," comes the thought, soft as featherdown over Dwayne's senses. "Stay low, I'll watch our back."
Dwayne nods, creeping past the bushes and into the grove of neatly partitioned trees. The air turns sweet in his lungs, and he pauses.
"Something up?" David comes up behind him, hand hovering just above his shoulder. Dwayne's gaze tilts up. Above them, deep, purple-red fruit sways gently, like a collection of miniature hearts. Each one gives off a plume of rich, sweet scent. Bright, tantalizing. Dwayne looks back at David.
"Peaches."
David follows his example and looks up. A smile plays at his lips.
"Later. When we're done."
-
Three humans lay dead on the ground, farmhands who they'd baited outside with their typical hunting tricks. The stolen blood sits warm and heavy in Dwayne's stomach. David leans on him, wiping gore from his face.
"I think one of them was drunk," he slurs. His pupils are blown wide when he looks at Dwayne. "Care for a chaser?"
Dwayne laughs, feeling more than a little loopy himself. He gently pushes David off of him and lifts off the ground, floating into the canopy of the orchard above them. Up here, the sweet scent is nearly overpowering. He pulls on one of the peaches, a big, heavy thing, it's fuzz slightly damp from rain or dew. He swipes his thumb over its surface, once, twice, again. Below him, David whistles.
"You get lost up there?"
Dwayne snorts. "Just picking the best one."
"Well get down here so I can try it!" There's a laugh in David's voice, and oh, yes, he's definitely drunk. It must have been the skinny farmhand with the limp, Dwayne hadn't had any of him.
He drops down in front of David, presenting his prize. David appraises the fruit for a second, before taking it in both his hands and biting into it. Juice immediately drips onto Dwayne's palm, sticky and fragrant. David practically moans as he pulls away.
"Christ, that's so good. I haven't had something sweet in ages."
Dwayne snorts, bringing the peach to his own mouth and biting into it opposite of where David had. Sweetness explodes over his tongue, bright and sharp and rich, made better by the fresh blood that still lingers in his teeth. David might be drunk, but his reaction is warranted. It is good.
They gorge themself on fruit almost as much as they had on blood, laughing and shushing each other. It wouldn't do to get caught as thieves, when they'd just covered up the killing. Dwayne lays in the grass, full to bursting and starting to doze off. They need to get inside, but they have time. The sun won't be up for hours.
David collapses down next to him, a long, green leaf caught in his hair. Dwayne leans over to pluck it out, and David catches his hand.
"Hey," he breathes.
"Hey," Dwayne replies. Something warm is unspooling in his chest. He's not sure which one of them closes the gap, brings their lips together. But the brush of their lips is sweet, soft and gentle, even as they stick together.
Send me an ask and I'll write a Lost Boys drabble! But, there's a twist to this! If you want something specific, I have some AUs for you to pick through. Before getting into this fandom, @thinkblotted and I were kind of known for coming up with a ton of complex, well developed alternate universes. You can probably tell that this is alive and well in YCCM, as the fic has an immense amount of world building and development. Recently though, we've had a lot of smaller au ideas crop up. So, for my own amusement, and if y'all wanna see some alt takes on the boys, these are the options:
🦇 - YCCM verse, the setting of Take my Burdens and Journal Footnotes. Movie lore compliant.
🎙️- Band au, modern no-vampires au. David and the boys are an actual band with vampire themed lore. Michael becomes one of their tech guys by accident.
🌕 - Bride for Beasts, a fantasy au where the boys are monsters, but not vampires. Beauty and the Beast energy from this one. Largely undeveloped because of how old it is, I'm open to suggestions on the lore for this one.
👁️ - Hounds of Tindalos, a horror themed au. David is a Lovecraftian monster and the boys are his attendants/servants. Inspired by the musical.
🌊 - Siren's song, a Merperson au! Pretty standard, it's the movie premise but they're sirens instead of vampires. Features a mute!David and fun mer lore.
🏥 - Anthrovore Support Network. This one's weird. It's the same world building as YCCM, but vampires and other supernatural creatures were discovered en masse in the 1950s, leading to the development of social support and medical care for "anthrovores", paranaturals that eat people. Michael is a newly turned vampire who's admitted to a support clinic in order to be assessed and receive care. Features David as a ward nurse, who takes Michael under his wing. This one's super self indulgent, I don't actually expect y'all to request this.
-
So, there we go! Of course, feel free to request outside of these. Last thing, a couple rules:
Please specify if you want musical lore or movie lore if you're not requesting an au.
I do not write Self insert or y/n. Nor will I write for OCS if they're not mine. I don't know your guys!
Most other ships are fair game, however I will not write (consensual) Max/David or Michael/Sam.
I will not write explicit smut. I'm more than happy to write flirting, innuendo and fade-to-black, but dicks are firmly staying in pants.
Please be respectful, I am a human and have a job and life outside of fandom, so it may take time for your request to be filled.
That's it! No pressure to request, obviously, but I look forward to seeing what comes through 😊
Minor pet peeve: Y'all really gotta start looking up when things are invented. I am SO happy about all the new fics in The Lost Boys fandom. Great writing, great characterization. Big fan. But oof. Guys.
There was no "putting someone on speaker". It was a landline, you either held the receiver up between the two of you, or someone picked up another receiver in the house.
Waterproof eyeliner? That was invented in 2006. 30 years after The Lost Boys.
It really only drives me wild because I was born prior to The Lost Boys coming out and I have very vivid memories of the early 90s and what life was like pre-internet and pre-cellphone.
The slang is also positively hilarious. "Cringe"??? No, that's a strictly 2020s word. People were "uncool", "weird", or the f-slur.
Fun 80s words that I distinctly remember actively being used by my older cousins: rad, gnarly, bogus, clutch, ditz, warped, to veg out, scarf down. There's a bunch out there. They just sound boring to 2026 ears because they've been around so long. They were new once.
Seriously, it's not a big deal. I just find it so funny reading 1987 vampires saying "Ugh, don't be cringe." Or someone just "looking something up". No babes, that involved a library, card catalogs, the dewey decimal system, and microfiche or microfilm. And a phone number? That was the yellow pages or the white pages. Boy was it not a good time if that book wasn't tied down to the payphone or if the pages you needed were ripped out. Best to have those numbers memorized.
Cannot begin to tell you the amount of time research over even small things has taken up in writing a fic, just to make it feel set in the world at the time. ESPECIALLY THE FASHIONS AND AVAILABLE TECHNOLOGY.
If you're writing about queer identities for a fic involving the Boys, or any fic set in the 80s (yes, looking at you, Stranger Things fans, I know we're a big crossover) then you NEED to do some research into the queer community of the 70s, 80s, and 90s. It was NOT like it is today, not even close. Labels were different, flagging/markers were different. The movie was not being made for or played for a modern audience - it was made for a straight, summer horror flic audience of the mid to late 80s. The Boys are villains for a reason.
Anyway. Yeah. And research can be very fun! Go learn about the beginnings of the internet and stuff like 'phone phreaking' - it's really cool!!!
Silly meta on live triangles and threesomes in The Lost Boys Movie and Musical. Self indulgent opinions, beware!
It's so interesting how in the original film my absolute NOTP is Star/David. Their relationship also struck me as bitter siblings/complex platonic/active rivals regarding Michael. I adore the pull this creates for poor Michael in the movie, as the love triangle is challenging for different reasons (vampirism, same sex attraction, etc) and how David and Star quietly manipulate Michael for their own ends.
In contrast to the musical version, where I actively really enjoy the relationship between Michael, Star and David as a group of potential lovers who have strong, diverse investments in each other. David as Michael's corrupter/lover/father/brother, and his obsession is so abiding and strong that he wants to be *everything* to all his clan, all the time, Star included. And the history with Star - it's bitter. Still, it's wounded and loving, and she has emotionally abandoned him in trying to swing back to some kind of conscience/self-actualisation. But she still cares, and that visibly kills her.
Michael is a godsend to David. Not only is he beautiful and needy, but Star finds him beautiful too, so he can have his cake and eat it and get two new recruits who can bring their own mutual passion to enrich his own existence. It's perfect.
But of course, it isn't. David preaches freedom, kinship, and everything else, but he seems to treat people like dolls in his own tragic, horrid therapy plan. He understands a certain amount of their pain, but with the arrogance that only he can fix it. It makes one wonder if there have been other Michaels' and other Stars. If he has had a higher failure rate than a success rate. If Michael and Star had foiled him enough, whether he would threaten to destroy them ultimately (as he does before his death scene) or just abandon them as he fears he was abandoned, once upon a time.
But even in death, his human need trumps through immortal hunger. Reaches for his two loves - and finds them together, wounded but happy, and without him.
Anywayyy - back to the movie.
David fights Michael right to the bone. It is his desire to still convert Michael - even with the deaths of the other members of his clan - that cements his obsession with Michael as remarkable. It is his hesitation that provides Michael with the opportunity to shuck him onto two plot-convenient antlers, and that's that.
And in his death scene, we see his vulnerability, finally. What he was before his unnatural death. A young man, pure to the corruptions the world could provoke, much like...well, Michael.
And Michael watches. And he's not pleased. He's just killed someone - a monster in his own right - but he has killed him with his own hands, fulfilling that prediction. You're a killer, Michael. And he is. And he has to live with that writhing, pleading, smoking body that dies back to a human face with no creature beneath it anymore.
I always loved the scene with Star after. She's shocked by the sight, but she cradles Michael, who is traumatised and still transformed, and she has no fear whatsoever. Her own awful time has given her the strength to sustain Michael in that moment.
Michael's 1000-yard stare at the end of the film - when Star pushes him aside to cuddle Laddie, now free and human once more - implies that whatever has gone on, mutual attractions or no, it's going to haunt him until the day he finally dies his own natural death.
And although the comic is questionable, we have this scene -
This perfectly encapsulates, in my opinion, the complexities of the love triangle. Star and David both manipulated Michael for their own ends - immortal brotherhood, love, escape, brady bunch blood suckers, freedom. But David's final wish for Michael before his demise backs it up - what is it about Michael that rises above his own relationship with his boys? And his comment here - he's bitter toward Star for stealing Michael. For Michael choosing Star over his inferred self-professed devotion.
And ironically, in the comic, Star is going to leave Michael. She's dying of cystic fibrosis - a death sentence in the 80s without insurance. She says herself she has ten years tops. And so, in the end, in the comic universe, David is right. Star will leave him eventually, like how Michael left David, and Michael will now be left by both of them - David by moral choice, and Star by inevitable death, a death that could have been prevented if she had chosen to become a full vampire.
And so Michael is left without both of them, and David finally has his revenge.
He's doing it now, next to David as he watches. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. David wants to reach out, to lay his palm against his newly still heart and just. Feel him. As if he hasn't felt all Michael has to offer. As if there's anything left for the two of them to keep from each other.
He shifts closer, winding his fingers into the bedsheets. He could watch Michael forever, he thinks. He's thought that since they first met, since he saw him trailing behind Star like a lost puppy begging for a collar. A sharp want, an ache that hadn't left in all their months together.
Michael stirs, eyes cracking open.
"hey," he says, rolling on his side so they face each other.
He brushed his fingers over the back of David's hand, and their bond flickers with mirrored affection. Michael smiles, recognizing the feeling David's just shared with him. Sending a little pulse of his own in return.
"I was dreaming about you." He says softly. David bites back his laugh.
"aren't you tired of seeing me in your sleep?"
Michael closes the distance between them, bringing their lips together in a gentle kiss. His gift unspools all his thoughts into David's mind, a gentle tidal wave of affection, love, relief. He pulls away before it becomes too much.
what if max was going to turn pete into a vampire to be his replacement son and the lost boys killed him so that he wouldnt be trapped with max like they were
