#tlb michael

[its-always-sunny-in-city17]

good morning

[williamprattz]

FTLOH 2023 | David & Micheal’s relationship

[imagintheworldaway]

Paul: Pros and cons of dating me.

Paul: Pros. You'll be the cute one.

Paul: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

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Y/N: I can’t believe we have to be stuck in this room together!

Paul, swallowing the key: Truly unfortunate.

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Y/N: Paul, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right?

Paul, naked in Y/N's bed: No, I absolutely do not.

Y/N, already taking off their clothes: Fuck... Me neither.

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Paul: I like your new pants!

Y/N: Thanks, they were 50% off!

Paul: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. *winks*

Y/N: The store can’t just give away clothes for free.

Paul: Thats’s… not what I meant.

Y/N: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Paul.

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Y/N: You look good in that hoodie.

Paul: You know where else I'd look good?

Y/N, zero hesitation: My bed.

Paul, at the same time: By your side- wait, what?

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Y/N: What are you in the mood for?

Paul: World domination.

Y/N: That's a bit ambitious.

Paul: You are my world.

Y/N: Aww...

Paul:

Y/N:

Paul:

Y/N: OH.

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Y/N: I feel like doing something stupid.

Paul: I’m stupid, do me.

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Paul, on the phone: So no head?

Paul: *Throws phone and breaks skateboard*

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Paul: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...

Y/N: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?

Paul: Holy moly-

[silvermaplealder]

they're literally on a date

[acutemushroom]

Micheal : I'm not calling you a good boy, David you just killed someone

David : 😢

[thelostboysthings]

More behind the scenes 🦇

[darlingnikkisixx]

Wallpaper Number 3 🤎

So Far This One Is My Favorite 😍

If You Guys Like These, I'll Make More 👻🩶

[ohhimjustagirl]

fellas is it gay to drink your homie's blood from an ornate bottle in his regally furnished cave while his punk and most undressed crew watch and he stares into your eyes and you stare into his eyes and you engage in a battle of wills that wages inside of both of your bodies. lmk.

[gothamslostboy]

TLB Favorite Board Games

David

RISK

He likes the strategy that’s involved

It boosts his ego whenever he wins

Like…. A lot

But he doesn’t want anyone to give him the win

If David finds out he won just bc everyone else was bored?

Welcome to HissyfitVille; population: David

He gets turned on whenever he feels like he’s in control of a situation, and this is no exception

Game nights normally end in sex if he does well

His favorite people to play against are Dwayne and Star, bc they’re the only two patient enough to see the game through AND play well

Michael tries, for David’s sake, but the poor dude has issues with tunnel vision that normally cost him

Paul and Marko start off interested, but are always the first two out

Paul gets bored and diverts his attention to bugging Marko

Marko quits so he can start getting back at Paul

David keeps a vintage version of the game on display in his nest from the first decade it was released

Dwayne

Clue

Loves himself a mystery

Everyone else switches which color they are everytime they play

But Dwayne can and WILL bite a chunk out of you if you try to steal professor plum

Nobody knows why he’s so obsessed with it

He doesn’t either but thinks it’s funny to pretend he has some deep dark secret connected to it

ONLY will play with the og map

Marko tried to get him to play the board walk side and was met with silence

Marko

Trivial Pursuit

But only plays it the proper way 50% of the time

The other half of the time he plays it is the Smosh version

Where they don’t actually answer the question, you just try to make the other person laugh

He made a custom version of the game when Michael turned so he could learn about them and vice versa

He does really well on the science questions

But for some reason he can’t seem to remember any famous ppls names outside of bands

Paul

Kerplunk

He likes that it’s so simple

He can just get stoned out of his mind and focus on kicking everyone else’s ass

If it wasn’t such a straight forward game everyone would accuse him of cheating because he has literally lost 3 rounds ever

He ignored David for 3 days after he raged and smashed it while playing

He was fine after David stole him another one and some weed

He also loved the sounds of the ball falling

———-

A/N: I’ve been gone for a while but here’s a fun little headcanon thing I thought about while shopping at Spirit Halloween today

[80smaniac]

Background I created! Let me know if you wanna see more!

(This has been my phone background for a year and a half....😳🤭 My lock screen is a gif of David on the carousel too. I think I need help.)

[consuming-karma]

THE LOST BOYS TWITTER LINKS.

buwan’s notes: I’ve lowkey been wanting to do this, I wasn’t sure if I should though because I didn’t know how to go about my gender-neutral or masc-readers, so I’m trying this out! might also make an audio post if this goes well <3

fair warning that masc-readers won’t have a ton of links since I don’t want to overdo or cross any boundaries.

content warnings: Twitter links, NSFW, choking, cursing, dirty talk, basically the whole NSFW package. (more intense links will be in red).

[seperate tlb x reader (includes Michael and Star).]

DAVID!

a good spanking leads to a behaved pet.

you don’t stop until he says so.

ass up, all for him.

david made it his mission to train your holes to take him whenever.

masc-readers:

he promises no mercy for you, he knows you can take it anyway.

DWAYNE!

a little meal before Dwayne needs to turn in for the morning.

dwayne can’t help it when he sees you performing your pretty housewife duties.

Dwayne lost his ropes, so he improvised.

masc-readers:

intimacy is a given for hopeless romantics like Dwayne.

PAUL!

paul says there’s nothing wrong with a little body worship.

what can paul say? he loves your breasts.

when Paul says he can fuck anywhere, he means anywhere.

masc-readers:

sorry, paul made a mess :(

MARKO!

marko loves seeing you bounce on his lap.

marko believes that eye contact is always essential.

that’s what you’re there for, his own personal cum dump.

masc-readers:

Marko’s an artist, he loves to paint.

why not use you as his own personal fleshlight?

MICHAEL!

spooning is michael’s favourite activity!

he thinks you look so pretty sucking his cock, he really does!

he’s so embarrassed to cum on your tits..but..you look so pretty all covered with him.

masc-readers:

guys night!

nothing wrong with a little laugh in the bedroom.

STAR!

star loves sitting in your lap.

ride her face, won’t you?

her favourite past time is when you’d fuck her dumb on your strap.

masc-readers:

uh oh, you found her toys :(

she feels so loved from the way you savour her.

[crowdsink]

michael emerson's whole Thing is being hot and stupid and i really like that in a man. i don't respect it, but i like it

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

𝕷𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕳𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕯𝖔𝖓𝖊? 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝑼

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝑬𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒂'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉... 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. 𝑷𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒂 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅, 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒔...

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑬𝑺!! 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒑𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒐𝒖𝒕!

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: [𝑵𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒕! 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓!]

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒆, 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒌, 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒇𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒕, 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒚 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔.

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒐

“Forgive me.”

He uttered the word with each weak breath that left his lips and into the chill air of the night. He whispered it with every foot forward into the large hole he dug, whenever his grandfathers rusted shovel gathered the moist dirt and damp grass which would be swiftly casted over his shoulder following the rest of the gathering earth.

“Forgive me.”

His sweaty hands gripped firmly onto the wood handle of the shovel, his hold so tight his knuckles grew white as the moon staring that stared down on him, judging him for his actions, weeping stars as if to ask what he has done, what has he done to do this, to violate such a peaceful ground, to step foot into this yard and prey on the vulnerable, who spent their lives fighting, only now to rest?

“Forgive me.”

Michael repeated, his body cold, and yet perspiration seeped from his skin, running down his sharp jaw as he relentlessly worked at digging up the freshly buried grave before him, his arms sore and aching, but he refused to stop, for he knew it was the least he could handle as a punishment for his actions. The end of the shovel halted,  the sound of wood splintering at its jagged edge making his rapid movements stop, pulling it away to see the engraved edges of a coffin creeping through the dirt, the beautifully hand-crafted work now ruined by the edge of his shovel.

He fell to his knees, trembling, splintered hands clawing and digging at the thin layer of soil hiding the elegant casket holding it’s treasure inside. His hands matched his heart and soul, dirty. Filthy. Ridden in waste and muck. Digging into the creases and crevices of his purity like the soil that stains his fingertips and buries beneath his fingernails. His hands wiped away the mud from the engraved cross, stray gems planted into it, the moon striking it at a point they seemed to glow. It felt almost like it was stinging his eyes.

He quickly got to his feet again, looking around him to find a crowbar he had brought alongside his equipment. Grasping it with slippery hands as firm as he could, he readied to stab it into the golden hinges and lock keeping him from getting what he needed inside.

“Forgive me.”

He closed his eyes as he carried his strength into the swing of plunging the crowbar into the side of the casket, the sound of wood cracking and hinges weakening, trying desperately to keep it shut, crying out for him to stop. Michael was a very strong boy, and yet even now he found his strength failing to help him carry out his deeds. He gave a grunt as he ripped it out of it’s first location, carefully gliding its curved edge lover, aiming at another lock, and taking one final, and hopeful swing.

On nights like these, he would’ve requested his younger brother to follow and aid him, like the many other nights of carrying out their monthly duty. But tonight was different, just like the many nights he had told his brother that when he asked to help him. It was different. It was dangerous. They were dangerous.

They were growing restless. Impatient. Impatient for what? Michael did not know. He merely knew that the risks of taking his brother with him anymore was something he couldn’t bear to imagine. So, much like his heart and soul, he was alone tonight.

He pushed and pulled with his might, teeth gritted hard enough his jaw grew tense and formed and ached. The casket broke open, revealing the inside. He’d never grow use to the sickening feeling that pooled in his guts, seeing the peaceful, resting face of a human being, now fallen into eternal slumber.

Her name was Patience Willows. A poor, young creature, who had fallen into illness she fought so hard against, but ultimately failed. She was a sweet girl, with a loving family and good friends, and betrothed to a man who was just as hopeless for her as she was for him. Her fair skin, and pale hair stood out under the moon, her black gowns she was buried in contrasted to how lively she seemed to be, the bouquet of orchids and roses, wilting away in her clasped hands, tangled in the beads of rosaries and the small cross hanging from the end nestled atop her stomach.

Michael’s hands came up to her face. Cold to the touch. Like ice on his flesh her face unmoving like stone, as if sculptors carved her body, and she was merely made of the finest marble. But she was a girl. A human, and innocent young woman, taken too soon. Even graceful in death as she was living.

And he had to take that away from her. He had to take it away from her family.

“Sweet Patience. Sweet, sister Patience.” He spoke as if he’d expect a reply, as if her big dark eyes would open again to the sound of his voice. “Forgive me for what I must now do with your mortal body…” Michael’s voice was barely above a whisper, his trembling hands left her face, one moved beneath her back, and the other the back of her legs, ripping her body away from its casket and into the night air where he stood tall, holding her like a sleeping maiden. Her head fell back, her arm falling from its gently clasped pose, and limped at her side. Her gowns and hair blew in the chill breeze, the sight was almost haunting.

Michael’s heart ached, he could feel it pound in his chest and wished for him to end this. But he couldn’t. There was no other way. He was beginning to grow desperate, finding every fresh body he possibly could, anything that seemed tempting or tantalizing enough to catch their eye and keep their attention long enough before they grew restless again. But he was beginning to grasp the straws the longer time began to go on. This was his last hope to keep his family and the town of Santa Carla safe.

He trudged through the forests of his family grounds, the settled grass and astray rotting logs pushed away from the path he had spend years creating took him deeper and deeper into the woods. The creeping vines and branches tugging and pried at his holy robes, like teasing fingers and wandering hands, the leaves and grass brushing around him sounding like hisses and whispers. The deep thickets pulled and tore at the gentle fabric of Patience gown, her beautiful resting garments now ruined and made imperfect. It only made Michael’s heart hurt further with sympathy.

The longer he walked, the more the space began to clear, the moon now crept through casting shadows across the trees, and the grass began to shorten. Thorned vines caught on his boots, always overgrowing the path he had created. No matter how many times he’d pull them out, it seemed they merely grew back every night.

Roses sprouted around them light weeds, deep blood reds, and the purest white buds all around, replacing the bushes and trees once hiding him from the moon and the stars shameful stare. The thorned vines and roses wrapped around everything like snakes, choking away like and growing over the ancient stone and ruins Michael was walking to. The closer he got, the more dreadful he felt. It was like the place carried the same evil of the ones who resided in it- yet it could have been the most holiest grounds decades ago, and now it was left to time and darkness to swallow it whole.

The ruins of this Chapel were very large, even if it hadn’t seemed that way from the outside or whatever angle you might have stumbled across it with fate in mind. So much so it was almost like once you walked in, you could never find you way out. Michael was walking toward the back of it, the caved in roofs and broken foundation greeting him routinely night after night. His chest heaved with exhaustion, his arms were throbbing, his legs were burning, the body in his arms felt too heavy to keep going, but he continued. The only thing keeping him going was the thought of his family, waiting for him at home. His mother sleeping soundly by now, and his Grandfather, if not doing the same, was awake busying himself with the strange taxidermy residing in their home and even the Church they ran. And Sam, his dearest brother Sam, he only hoped he wasn’t awake, waiting for him, worried about him. He hoped his brother was sleeping well, not wasting good hours on a brother who had trapped him in such a life he was to live now.

“Lord Jesus,” Michael’s voice trembled, taking each step up the ruined, cracked stares, the moon’s hateful light shining down atop the alter like a spotlight, reveled in display. “Son of God… Have mercy on me, a sinner.” He walked with slow, cautious steps, his footwork calculated, like a waltz, his boots echoing through the rubble stone.

“Wash me from my guilt with Your precious blood and cleanse me of my wrongdoings…” Patience heavy body left his arms, setting her atop the alter, his dirtied hands touching her fair face one final time, the cold feeling of her skin one he had felt many times before, and would forever feel as long as he breathed. “Create in me, a clean heart… Oh God,” He stepped away from her, backing away from the alter and down it’s steps, all the way till he couldn’t see her body put out on display under the moonlight, and even then, he couldn’t handle it, his eyes closing and turning his head away from a sight even imagining made him sick. “Forgive me from all my sins and take not Your Holy Spirit from me by Your mercies…”

The air grew cold, and he could feel the wind on the back of his neck. Wind blowing through the cracks of foundation sounded like whispers, he could hear voices in the trees, and laughs ring out in the halls. Shadows dance on the walls, tempting for him to open his eyes, but they remained shut, not daring to open and witness a sight that would claw through his eyes and carve it’s name on his mind to never forget.

“Forgive… And renew a right spirit within me. Amen.”

And just like that, it went silent. Too silent. The wind halted, and the forest and life within paused. The whispers ceased and it felt as if even Michael’s heart came to a stop for just a moment. His eyes fluttered open, slowly turning his head back up to the steps, only taking a few more just to peek up at the alter.

Patience’s body was gone.

Michael let out a breath he forgot he was even holding, a hand coming up to his head, wiping away the thick layer of sweat forming a residue on his forehead, his fingers tangling in his dark curls. His stomach turned, making him swallow thickly and audibly, shallow breathes leaving past his parted lips. It was done. It was over for those few, spare days. Those few spare, haunting days.

And then he heard it. Quiet at first, so much so he could have merely considered it his mind playing a trick on him and went his way, but Michael knew better. And it grew louder. It was laughter.

Not joyous, not happy or a warm laugh, it was cruel. It was mocking, taunting, and it slowly began to grow louder, and voices joined it, resonating along the walls and ringing through the ruins of the Chapel. Cackles and barking laughter that made Michael’s blood run cold as the sound fed through his ears and froze him from the inside. His hand left his side, reflexively coming to the cross that hung around his neck, nestled against his chest right where his heart was. He clutched the powerful silver in his hand, his fingers running slow circles into the vibrant colored stones embedded into it’s surface as if silently praying, but a prayer wasn’t on Michael’s mind the the moment.

The laughter ensued, louder and louder as though circling him, in the sky, beneath the cobblestone floors, behind him right in his ear or standing before him, yet there was no one to be seen- but he knew very well he wasn’t alone. Not here. And as if his thought were read, the laughter quickly began to silence, very, very slowly. Going silent for only a split second with a few chaste whispers exchanged, and the world slowly began to grow alive yet again in the dead of night.

Michael’s hand stayed firmly grasping his crucifix, feeling his fast heartbeat against his fingers as he took only a few more steps up the stares toward the alter, when he saw a body. The very same body that was lying there just minutes before. He just felt his fear rise the longer he stared at Patience body back on the surface where she was once an offering, now turned away.

Her dress ripped up, legs and arms full of cuts and claw marks. Her blouse was ripped open and her peeled away flesh on display. Her ribs cracked open, like it was a cage, revealing her now hollowed chest where a heart would be, now gone from her bosom with only the bloody remnants of her lungs as the crimson liquid wept from her body and down the pure white marble and stone of the alter, staining the steps, and the petals of roses and orchids stuck to her skin where blood had crept into every curve and crevice along her baren flesh creeped out.

A beautiful woman, a sweet creature, who’s looks reflected the beauty and pureness of her soul… Now mangled and violated in a gruesome slaughter, just for Michael’s eyes to see. He all but stumbled toward her, falling to his knees as he threw his arms over her body, his mind riddled with confusion and utter distraught, blue eyes wandering her face and finding himself unable to understand. Why?

The laughter quickly came back, but it wasn’t all around him now. Instead, it echoed from the seemingly large opening into the ground behind the alter, a cave. Going deep, deep, and down, down into darkness, you couldn’t even see your footing as you would descend into its cavern. The laughter, the voices called out to him, calling his name, and mocking him with snickers and cackles.

“I don’t understand…” He spoke genuinely, eyes dancing between Patience and the cavern below. “I don’t understand.” He asked once more, his voice raising. “What do you want from me?” His guilt, his fear, his confusion all of it was fogging his mind, making him frustrated. It made him angry. It made him enraged.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” He shouted, finding himself unable to handle any more of this cruel madness he was going out through, his voice ringing through the Chapel, echoing back to him and the fluttering sound of bats and disturbed birds followed. The laughter died down as well, but it wasn’t to put his mind at peace. It was to leave him yet again, another night with no answers to his plea.

“I’ve done everything you wanted… I’ve committed atrocities for you. I’ve hurt people, I’ve betrayed my family, my covenants… What more could you want of me?” He cried out, awaiting an answer. And with little hope left, it died out following the silence. He looked to his hands in defeat, now riddled in dirt and innocent blood. “What have I done..”

Silence. Only the quiet comforted him, succumbing him to accepting that he would spend the next month restless, with no answers, with more people getting hurt, with more families coming to his church pleading for prayers and blessings of safety from the beasts of Santa Carla. More missing posters around any wall surface in the town, more questions from his mother. He could barely handle it anymore. How, he was willing to do anything to get this madness to stop.

His heart felt heavy, and as body numb as he got to his feet, wiping the dirt and blood off his Holy robes as best he could, looking toward the disgusting sight of the body splayed out atop the alter, just like the many other past offerings these last few weeks. And like the many weeks before,

He began his walk back home. Dawn approaching, the sun creeping over the view of the boardwalk far, far into the distance...

[starlahuskyz]

Selfie for Boys Night

[silvermaplealder]

I don't think David knows how to chill. This was supposed to be an NSFW piece and then I toned it down a little. But I still have the sketch for the NSFW one so maybe that one will see the light of day

[acutemushroom]

There is something that bugs me out about Laddie in Lost Boys. That is, why and how is he still an half-vampire ? And why is he even part of the group to begin with ?

Now, I didn't really looked at his description on the milk pint, so I'm not sure of his age. But he's probably around 8 or so, kidnapped a year max before the movie's events.

And, judging by how it went for Micheal (and probably Star), it doesn't take long before they're incited to have their first kill.

So why is little Laddie boy here still a half-vampire? It's not like the guys were waiting for him to grow up (he no longer would) or cared to not traumatize him. Nor would he realistically be able to fight them off or flee when they decide it's time. He's just a little kid ! He's barely able to lift and carry the boom box, and that's with half vampire strength. And they're fully-fledged vampires who were changed in their late teens early 20s. If they decided he feasts upon human blood, he has no choice but to do so.

So, to me, he shouldn't still be an half-vampire by now, even if Star tried (and she probably did) to delay it.

Which brings me to another question? How is he part of the group to begin with ?

Like I said earlier, all the members are in their late teens early 20s. Same for Star and Micheal. So, it seems weird to me that a young kid would be part of the lost boys.

Did David just woke up one night and was like "hey, what if we had a mascot?"? Did Laddie somehow introduced himself into the lair during the day or while they where out in town, managed to find Max's blood and just gulped it down for funsies? A bit more plausible, but did Max just wanted an actual child in the "family"?

I know there is a narrative reason for Laddie to be so young. It's not only to hammer down the cruel nature of the lost boys, but also to put more pressure on Micheal; to highen the stakes.

After all, because he is young, Star is protective of him, which made her incite Micheal to bring him to the car before her. Putting more time pressure on him and letting Sam and his friend time to kill Marko. It's also a way to highlight even more the murders and kidnapping in town.

It makes sense from a narrative perspective. But not in a in-world perspective. At least, not to me.

Though maybe I'm wrong too. Maybe it's explained somewhere in the movie and I didn't notice. Maybe there's a novel in which it is explained (please tell me there's a novel, I want more of the universe).