#thinking about nazi punks and punk and such lately

[env0writes]

Idle Steps 3.19.24 “Wrong Right Turn”

Lace up your boots, boy Crimson and white Wear ‘em to school where you’ll show ‘em who's Right Put up a fight, when the man is little and brown Smile in their face as you force them to frown You’ve got the world, bully, boy, bully boy– you And at the slightest of sleights you will beat them all blue So pull up them boots, laced up tight and up tall! Show the world Rightly, who should beck at your call Take to the streets with your leather, your chains, and your studs Stipe every rules of the Stars with your buds Bigger the crowd grows, camaraderie loose You stand on by as they bring out the noose Small is the feeling inside of your chest Little-boy drummer goes rat-a-tat-tat, trying his best March to their step boy, you’ve laced them up locked No turning back now, the exits are all blocked Don’t say a word, don’t show a sliver of fear Whether you do or you don’t snarl or jeer Whether you lace or unlace those boots The dye won’t wash from your hands, no matter dressed up suits So whilst the world burns around you Riddled with magazine-burst words that slew Look around in the aftermath–at the world you destroy

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist!   Photo by @env0

#writeblrcafe #poeticstories #poetryportal #twc #spilled ink #wutispotlight #writtenconsiderations #thinking about nazi punks and punk and such lately #poetselixir #poetswhisper #env0 writes #idle steps #march #nazi punks fuck off #alt right pipeline #and thinking about like how some boys get disenfranchised and get preyed upon by the right but have no exit available even if they want to #that its a hate cycle that feeds into itself #hate poem #alt right #political poem #twcpoetry #writerscreed #abstractcommunity #savage words #smittenbypoetry #poetscreed

[incorrectbatfam]

I h3ad cannon athat all the batfam members have had/are still in their emo/goth phases.

Example:

Bruce dressed as a bat and punches criminals at night (I also head cannon that he listens to the rolling stones and MCR)

Anyways thoughts?

Also what were the other batfam members emo/goth phases like?

Dick: He was hella neurotic in his late Robin/early Nightwing days. That plus his mullet and guitar tells me he probably tried to live out of a used van he bought for $700 after a fight with Bruce only to come home a week later when someone knocked on his window.

Jason: He's the theater/classic lit goth. When he was younger he would read by the glow of a candelabra even though the lights work perfectly fine. Post-resurrection, he graduates to the biker anarchist who has no problem launching a molotov at a CEO's mansion.

Tim: He's from the 90s. He's sitting in that Y2K grunge-emo-punk gray area where his playlist is a mix of the Clash, Nirvana, and Green Day. He's coloring his hair with Kool-Aid, playing with makeup, ripping his own clothes, and talking about new songs on AOL.

Damian: He's aiming for dark academia, but that's hard to pull off if you know what American schools look like. He annotates the margins of his books with notes he thinks are insightful but are actually just basic observations. Also he listens to Imagine Dragons.

Duke: This kid isn't emo or goth, he is a punk through and through. Sassing the cops? Jumping off a bridge? Leading a ragtag vigilante team? If he wanted to, I bet he can pull off a leather jacket with some homemade spikes while blasting Bad Brains and Death.

Cullen: Canonically, he watches anime and Supernatural, and I've made a lot of Tumblr references with him. He's definitely your quintessential 2010s emo nerd—Black Parade, fandoms, the whole shabang. He also definitely followed Dan and Phil.

Stephanie: She strikes me as the early 2000s pop-punker—think MySpace and Avril Lavigne. She probably had a Not Like Other Girls phase that she quickly grew out of. I can see her cutting posters out of magazines and sneaking her MP3 under an oversized hoodie.

Cassandra: She canonically listens to Killswitch Engage, so I like to imagine what she was like as a baby metalhead. Maybe she thrifted a Pantera shirt and chopped her hair with safety scissors. And at concerts she's absolutely up front when the wall of death happens.

Barbara: I think she dabbled in a little bit of everything without ever outwardly expressing it. Her playlist is all over the board, from softer rock to screamo. She also experimented with makeup a little, like black lipstick, and is more involved in the activism side of things.

Harper: She's definitely industrial punk with a huge emphasis on the DIY aspect of the subculture. She strings soda tabs into chains, turns old screws into boot spikes, and even learned to give herself tattoos. She also absolutely has a drawer full of patch pants.

Carrie: She's a TikTok e-girl, leaning into the pinks and purples along with black and white. She turns fishnet leggings into gloves and has a bunch of animal ear headbands. She also listens to Melanie Martinez and Tame Impala regardless of if they count as alternative.

Kate: Queer people play a huge role in the punk scene and vice versa. I can absolutely see Kate jamming out to an early Pansy Division track or searching places like Bandcamp to support smaller indie artists. Also she has a jacket that says "Nazi punks fuck off."

Alfred: Before punk and its subgenres, Alfred was canonically a delinquent and in that day, delinquency meant gelled-up hair and moving like Elvis. The hair didn't work out for him, but he was able to catch one of the first shows Buddy Holly played in London.

Selina: Alt cultures are based on not having much and working with what you got. Selina would use the five-finger discount at big-box stores and save her money to support small businesses. She also went around listening to free local rock shows on Fridays.

Bruce: He listened to the Rolling Stones before, but his first real intro to the scene was a handmade zine he found on the floor at school. From there, he explored more underground artists and took up journaling as a way to vent his feelings. And then: Batman.

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #cullen row #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #harper row #carrie kelley #kate kane #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #ask #anonymous

[bitterkarella]

Identifying furries by their fursonas

Fox- this is the default fursona for the default furry, namely a twink with a blown out fucked to death asshole

Vixen- Girl fox referred to as a vixen is an egg, girl fox just referred to as a fox is an out trans woman

Kistune - the same as above but weeb flavor

he-wolf - a greasy guy who weighs 12 pounds soaking wet and wears a fedora. republican.

she-wolf - the butchest bull dyke you ever saw

coyote - manic depressive. always on something. the drug connection at any furry party

Cat- always a woman

black cat - could be any gender but always goth

kitten/kitty - a trans sex worker, has an only fans they really want you to know about.

bobcat - older dude. wants people to think he's ex-military

Jaguar - an older black guy. will probably have the word "black" in his fursona's name

lion - just a huge asshole

tiger - another asshole. old. wants you to believe he's ex military or ex-police, probably a member of the dorsai irregulars. major grill dad vibes

jackal - a huge asshole and a slut. white gay racist, probably transphobic

cougar - either a trans woman or a terf. there's no in between

Horse - white woman who identifies as 2 Spirit or a guy who wants to be stomped on

Pony - gay nazi

unicorn - either the absolute gayest dude you can be or a 9 year old girl. sometimes a late in life transition

Tanuki - latino

badger - either a huge lesbian or an old avuncular straight guy. possible sex pest

Raccoon - nature's greatest mistake. too normie to be furry, too furry to be normie. dilf.

bat - either a goth or a real annoying shit (some overlap). invader zim fanboy. doesn't drink alcohol but claims to act crazy on "sugar highs." definitely has dabbled in webcomics

cow - a woman. maternal. mom friend or mommy dom. milf. possibly trans femme

steer - a big strong fat rough trade gay guy

sheep - mom vibes

pretty much any farm animal - mom vibes

domestic pig - wild card. might be a wet and messy fetish thing tho or a trash eating thing. loves to be stinky. loves to talk about being stinky.

wild pig - trans masc

skunk - either a fat beardy guy who has a tumblr blog about animation squash & stretch or a stoner gal. very straight. the straightest. a kinsey 0. has strong feelings about what the fandom used to be like before there were all these kids in it.

rat - is a huge asshole as a front, probably likes talking cigars

lemur - autistic

sloth - 420 blaze it. will never finish any commissions

chakat - an older cishet man who thinks the fandom is too political & refers to "anime" as "japanimation"

sergel - nazi

citra - the biggest dipshit you've ever met

procyon - furry equivalent of the thomas jefferson miku binder pic. you should not be talking to this person, this is a literal child

weasel - a girl with cluster b personality disorders

ferret - a person who has at least one pet ferret, but probably many

mole - this person thinks they're in a beatrix potter story

guinea pig/chinchilla/jerboa/gerbil/any kind of fat rodent you can keep as a pet - the sweetest person you will ever meet

armadillo/pangolin/anteater/aardvark - smug, contrarian. "i just wanna be different"

mouse - vore fetishist, prey. sub.

hyena - vore fetishist, pred. probably trans masc

otter - a dommy twink, possible enby

bear - gay

panda - absolutely a white person pretending to be asian. probably running a gofund me scam with a suspicious story about how they're a professional nintendo gamer who injured their hand or something

bullfrog - a huge fat hairy straight guy

any other frog - inflation or rubber fetishist

axolotl/newt/salamander - genderfluid enby

rabbit - trad wife trans woman

squirrel - autistic and gay

deer - gay

gazelle - zootopia megafan

monkey - punk DIY artist type, definitely loves weed

ape - absolutely baffling. nothing this person does or says makes any sense. you will be left wondering whether you're speaking to a child, a person with severe mental issues, or someone who doesn't have english as a first language

elephant - mom friend

hippo - a fat fetishist or a transformation fetishist

rhino - an older cishet dude who wants to project a curmudgeonly yet approachable aura

kangaroo - definitely not an australian person. extremely focused kinkster, usually feet or inflation. more STDs than should be possible to carry

koala - an asian woman

virginia opossum - anarchist/communist punk trans man who makes zines and/or comics

australian possum - just here to have fun. wants everyone else to be having fun too. wacky funster. (sugar gliders and flying squirrels fall under this category)

any other marsupial - poser

monotremes - extreme poser, don't even bother

doberman- gay dude who tops from the bottom or a cop (there is some overlap)

german shepherd - a nazi or a cop (there is substantial overlap). definitely a furry raider. he will wear his cop uniform to con and after con will post videos pretending that someone was rude to him

afghan - arch femme

basset hound - racist

puppy - sub, probably an egg. extremely draining. cries a lot

all other dogs - just dudes being bros (gender neutral)

dragon - the furries of furries. like to talk about eating "sammiches" and "chocklit." probably an adult baby lifestyler. they will send DMs that just say "hi." they like to RP and when they contact you about a potential commission they are actually just trying to trick you into RP

griffin - the same as above but also a brony

snake - sissy hypno fetishist

turtle - an old man, probably southern. an ironic grandpa.

other scalies - furry in denial. either a child or an old person from CYD. the world's last something awful goons

any fursona with latino vibes - white

any fursona with asian vibes - latino

any fursona with native american vibes - eastern european

avian - girl who's not like other girls. hippie. vegan.

raven/crow - agender voidgoth

chicken - mom vibes

dinosaur - the absolute biggest nerd. probably has an actual degree in paleontology. definitely dresses like miss frizzle.

any invertebrate - not a real furry, their girlfriend just made them get a furaffinity account before they could get ass. either that or they've never even heard of furry, they just came up with the idea of anthropomorphics from first principles. a biology teacher or weirdo (there is some overlap)

amoeba - this is a troll

#furries #fursonas

[cripple-punk-dad]

I hate abled people so fucking much. I barely leave my house just to avoid them anymore. I stopped grocery shopping in person because i keep getting harassed by employees and customers. I hate being constantly touched, i hate people taking pictures of me and my service dog, i hate being questioned constantly. Why cant they leave us alone?

I'm so sorry anon this ask got buried in my inbox but,

I wholeheartedly agree with you. Obviously I'm not talking about the people in my life who are able-bodied that care about me and aren't fucking bizarre about my wheelchair, but I do have so much fucking anxiety about going out in public simply because I'm afraid of someone deciding that I don't get to live my life that day. I've been harassed on public transportation, in grocery stores, in my fucking college classrooms, on campus. Literally anywhere in public I've been in has generated harassment (physical and verbal) against me on the basis of my wheelchair. The filthy looks I've gotten on the bus simply because I exist are fucking ridiculous.

And yet we persist. We still exist despite most able-bodied people being determined to ignore us and make life as inaccessible as possible simply by not thinking about us. That's how insidious ableism is in our society. People don't give enough of a shit to even think about us. And if they do, it's full of pity, or anger. Pity because we must not be able to have a fulfilling life, and anger because we don't contribute anything to society just by existing.

Pretty much everyone in my life has said something along the lines of "before I knew you I never realized how inaccessible everything is". Which fucking pisses me off to no fucking end. Like yeah, no shit. I'm glad that I got to be that eye-opening experience for you but what are you gonna do about it? Nothing? Ok cool. Don't get pissed when I complain about this set of stairs for the 800th time then.

That's why I stopped giving a shit about fashion. People are gonna stare and point at me anyways so I'm gonna wear my battle vest every day with the shittiest most falling apart pair of pants I own because just like everyone else on this goddamn planet I deserve to feel comfortable and happy in my own skin. Fuck anybody who says different.

Anyways, I have been having a lot of feelings lately. Thank you for the ask, anon, your rage is justified and deserves to be heard.

Peace and love on planet punk rock, unless you're a nazi or a cop!

#cripple punk #cpunk #disability #disabled community #social justice #punk culture

[polyamorouspunk]

If you’re like me, you’ve probably heard of “skinheads” being racist. You might have also heard that not ALL of them are racist. So, what’s the deal?

Out of curiosity and not being able to sleep, I did a quick Wikipedia read.

It’s probably not news to you that there are distinct generations of punk. We’re, of course, in our own.

The skinhead movement started in the late 50s. This is where you get your work boots, straight pants, etc. look. Only, they weren’t skinheads just yet. This movement was known as “mods”, “a youth subculture noted for its consumerism and devotion to fashion and music”. The consumerism part doesn’t sound a whole lot like punk today, but the “devotion to fashion and music” sure does.

From there in the late 60s there was a split between “peacock mods”, or those who were more into the latest fashion, according to Wikipedia, and the more traditional working-class image of punks denoted by their shorter hair. It’s not entirely sure if the cutting of hair was more for defiance against “mainstream” hippie culture or for ease’s sake as a working class, but I suspect it’s probably a mix of both and so much more.

From there the skinhead movement became heavily influence by Jamaican culture, which is extremely fascinating! Around this time there was also a break off group in Australia.

In the 70s skinhead culture, which originally was said to be apolitical, started diverging into other groups. However, late 70s is where the punk movement we think about today really kicked off. This is where some skinheads started joining up with far-right groups. It doesn’t really say why, though.

From here we narrow in our focus away from Britain and the United States towards Germany, which has a big cultural impact in the punk scene. In West Germany factions of neo-nazi groups and anti-fascist groups were at arms. In East Germany two factions were also forming: one focused on the aesthetics of punk and one focusing on the ideals of punk. Gone were the days of apolitical skinheads in Germany.

Going back to the UK, in the late 70s and early 80s, however, there WAS a group of apolitical skinheads. These were characterized by the Oi! subgenera of punk.

In other parts of Europe, groups of skinheads seemed to be left-wing and antiracist since it’s original conception in the 60s. There’s also mention of racism from both black and white skinheads against South Asians in the UK.

From this, though, grew fractions that were vocally anti-racist, notably “redskin” and “anarchist” skinheads. The use of the word “redskin” is interesting, looking back from today’s perspective and how the term has been historically used over here in the United States with racism against Native Americans, and the push to remove the word from popular American Culture, like in sports teams.

It was skinheads, actually, who supposedly brought the term “ACAB”, or “All Cops Are Bastards” into popular usage, from a punk song.

And so, I bring us to today: where neo-nazism is still alive and well, and goes hand-in-hand with antiblackness, and so much more. I think these days we use neo-nazism as a broad term for people who are loudly outspoken against more than just violence against Jews, however, it’s important to realize that violence and discrimination against Jews is the biggest and core part of neo-nazism.

We look back at the legacy of a movement we’re trying to uphold today, but a movement at it’s core is just people. People laughing, people drinking, people smoking, people just being people. So… how do we tell what is okay to reblog and what isn’t?

Well, some things are obvious, at least. Does someone have a swastika? If so, is it crossed out, or is it displayed prominently. See the word “nazi”? What’s the context around it?

Somethings are less obvious. Lace code. Patches that reference things from long ago. What bands you’re listening to, what local underground movements you’re supporting. These are less obvious to know the history of, to the average tumblr blogger in 2023.

So what can we do?

Well. We can learn the history for starters. I’m not saying we need to go and learn about every particular subculture and band and movement and code and this and that and-

But you can Wikipedia the history of a movement you’re not really sure about. That’s a start, at least. You can learn some terms, “buzzwords”, if you will. Learn what some symbols you see often mean. Learn what bands the antifacist punks were listening to and what bands the racist punks were listening to. It’s a start.

You can also talk to people who still identify with the skinhead movement here on tumblr or in real life if you can find them. Get their opinions and see what they think. Hear what they’re saying and decide for yourself what you want to support. You should do that for pretty much any movement, not just skinheads.

Today it seems like skinheads have a gay subculture. Was that a part of history that’s been largely ignored or erased? Or is that something that’s come about in more recent years?

The punk movement is a very broad one with lots of overlapping cultures and subcultures and branches off- a great way to see that is simply falling down a rabbit hole of tumblr blogs or Wikipedia articles. It’s easier than ever to see all the parts of something. But that can make it overwhelming. It’s okay to break it down as needed.

Source

[arenpath]

Coolness

Pairing: Marko x reader 

Word count: 1.8K 

Warnings: light angst, a little bit of smut, so minors do not interact, description of bruises.  

A.N: This is the first time I write about this fandom, so comments are welcome, because I do not know what I think about this work. Gif is mine.

Summary: you are a pole dancer and your boyfriend meets you after a practice.

10.00 pm.  

Through the big windows of the studio you could see bright lights of the night boardwalk. It was unbelievable how one place could give so many happy memories and return the motivation to be alive and do what you love, even after you had to give up everything, including your hometown. In the hope of finding freedom or finding someone who will put an end to your suffering, you arrived in Santa Carla, the Murder Capital of the World.  

The most eye-catching thing was definitely the giant Ferris wheel, which was visible from almost anywhere in the city, and which was its calling card, luring tourists, the most careless and naive of whom became a snack for them. You associated the Ferris wheel with both cool hands of you lover, travelling over your knees, thighs and arms and couples in love, who were making out, thinking that no one could see them, which you and he laughed at without malice.  

The windows were slightly opened in order not to let you all faint from the stuffiness and at the same time not to let you catch a cold from the autumn cool air. You could swear that if it weren't for your rapid breathing and the sound of your heart in your ears, you could hear the screams and laughter of children running from attraction to attraction and from time to time loading up on piping-hot hot dogs or cotton candy because how loud it sometimes was.  

Collapsing on the mat next to your pole, you looked at your legs. Bruises, consequences of capillary damage due to too frequent contacts with the pole alternated with hickeys and bites from wild nights. Other dancers never missed the chance to tease you about them and some of them even asked you where you had found your lover boy to find themselves one too. All those comments always caused a smug grin on your face. Marko was definitely the best person you had ever met. Angelic face was combined with wild curls and punk, torn clothes. And loving and caring side was combined with explosive character, love for fights and various means of self-expression. One night two of you could spend drinking alcohol and terrorizing either surf-nazis or the calmest of the whole gang Dwayne and David. And the other night you could just cuddle on your nest until he went to sleep with the boys. On those days when you were particularly persistent, he stayed with you, but still reminding that he was used to sleeping upside down.  

Upside down. Yeah. It was a good word to describe how your life changed after you had met him. You stopped feeling superfluous in this world, instead of feeling lonely and helpless, you began to feel loved. You got a boyfriend who genuinely loved you and three new friends who had become practically brothers. The desire to resume a hobby that had to be erased from life returned. Besides, despite the fact that you got up quite late because of night outings and was engaged in part-time work, it was quite dull during the day without your boys. Therefore, here you were, sitting on the mat exhausted after after practicing a series of movements. Once more you looked at the window and on shaky legs you walked up to it. Despite his rebellious nature, when it came to you, he was always punctual. So you expected to see him waiting for you. But only his motorbike was standing under the studio window. Grunting in confusion where he could had gone, you packed up and went to change clothes.  

After leaving the studio the very last one, you expected to see your lover, but the street met you with silence, only the lone bike was standing near the exit. Without having time to look around, you were grabbed by a strong hand around your waist and something cold was applied to your neck. You gasped.  

-Don’t be scared, baby. It is just your favourite boyfriend and your favourite coke, - he released you from his grasp to give you an opportunity to turn to face him. 

Turning to him, you saw a grinning Marko, who was handing you a can of your favorite soda. You didn’t hide the fact that you do pole dancing also in order to keep yourself in feet, but sometimes, after especially hard classes, you couldn’t help but change a bottle of water for soda. It was a bad habit from your childhood to drink lemonade after a hard work. So, a couple of times you asked Marko to stop at the nearest store to buy some coke.  

-God, Marko, you scared me to death, - you said on the exhale, pressing your hand to your heart, - I thought it was a creep who wanted to steal my money or something worse.  

-Nah, the only thing I need from you is your lips on mine, babe.  

-Gross, stop acting like Paul, - you hugged him, - actually, I missed you. 

Marko giggled and hugged you back, putting one hand on your back and the other on the back of your head. 

-It was just one day and... 

-I know, I know. But I really missed you badly.  

He placed a short kiss on top of your head. You loved how sweet he could be when he was around you.  

-Well, then hop on, - he showed you his soft smile and got on his motorbike. 

You took a step towards Marko when a cold wind blew sharply, ruffling your and his hair. You felt freezing autumn wind had passed through your pant legs over your skin, still burning from friction with the pole. It was an incredible feeling, comparable to the feeling of an ice cream on the tongue in a hot summer and a bottle of cold water after a long run with a dry throat. You moaned. A second later, you were overtaken by the realization that you were still standing in the middle of the street at night, and in front of you was your boyfriend patiently waiting for you. You opened your eyes wide. There was a blush on your cheeks. Eyes quickly ran over Marko's face and body to catch the slightest change in his face and posture to understand his emotion, to understand if he was ashamed of you. You knew that Marko was not the one who could condemn you for something so stupid and insignificant, he was basically a person who was up for anything that isn’t a hunger strike. You just needed to be 100% sure.  

-What?..- you catched his eyes. 

-Oh, nothing really, - he chuckled, - you just stopped for a moment with your eyes closed. I was scared that something had happend during the pole practice and you were hurt, in pain or just in a bad mood. But then that sound. Well, you know, now I’m sure that you really in a good mood.  

He winked and smile. 

-Don’t make fun of me,- you came to him and and leaned on his bike, - my thighs actually hurt, like they are burning. 

-I would never, darling, - he covered your palm with his own. 

-Let’s just meet with the boys, - you tried to sit on the motorbike, when Marko stopped you and got off the bike 

-Wait a little bit, sugar. You said that your thighs are in pain, right? 

-Um, yes. I can’t see where this is going, - he stood before you and you locked your eyes. You pursed your lips and his gaze shifted to them. 

-Cold wind made you moan. And as far as you know I can do the same thing and even better, - he winked at you,- You know vampires, cold as hell.  

He ran his cool hand over your cheek, so that you blissfully closed your eyes, and leaned to your ear to speak: 

-Give me your permission and and you will feel like in heaven and even better, not sure that vampires will ever know what it's like to be in heaven, but still. 

-But we are in the middle of street! What if someone sees us? 

-We can go around the corner, into the darkness, where people won't see us from the windows, plus, I always can smell the approach of a person. 

-And your motorbike? What if someone steals it? 

-Then my condolences to the family, - he smirked and kissed your neck, - so, what is your answer? 

-Yes. 

-Say it louder! 

-I said YE...- you wanted to scream when his lips covered yours. 

-What’s wrong, darling? I thought you didn’t want us to be red handed, - giggling, he took your hand and led you into the darkness. 

-No sooner did you come to your senses than you were pressed against the brick wall in the alley. After pecking you, Marko quickly lowered down. Hands went up to your hips and squeezed them before pulling your wide pants down. 

-Be careful, please. Don't lower them too low, the last pants that aren't in the wash. 

-If that happens, I will make it up for you. Now and later. Pinky promise. Spread your legs a little bit, - you did as he said.  

He passed his hands on your inner thighs and you, as he said, felt like you ascended to heaven, so good his ice-cream-cold hands felt on irritated skin. Light pain and pleasure. So sweet. You grabbed his one hand, bent down and put his fingers into your mouth, sucking it slowly and looking straight into his eyes. but it didn't last long. Marko pulled out his fingers, gently pushed you in the chest, thereby giving a sign that you need to lean against the wall. You obeyed and didn't object. He continued to run his cold big hands on the inside of your thighs. To the arousing mixture of the cold of his hands and your burning legs, your warm saliva was added, which quickly began to play into the hands of Marco and the wind, creating an additional source of cold. To all this was soon added the kisses of his deathly cold lips. It was too much and you moaned loudly. Your boyfriend wanted to feel your arousal with his fingers. But you heard a sound. People. Damn. 

-Fuck, darling, you know, I always can take care of them. Just one word and they are dead and we can continue our little party. 

-No, Marko, - feeling your legs shaking, you bent down to pick up your pants, - You said that if anything, you're ready to make amends later. So, later.  

-But baby, we... 

-No buts, no one prevents us from retiring in the toilet of one of the cafes on the boardwalk. 

-I love this change from a shy rabbit to a cheeky cat, is that how I affect you? 

-Definitely,- you smiled, despite the fact that you felt excitement at the bottom, the smile was warm, as you realized that he was really changing your life for the better.

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #reader #tlb #tlb x reader #david tlb #dwayne the lost boys #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #paul tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys fic

[bfpnola]

hi!!! so recently I’ve gained a big interest in building up my collection of patches to put onto my clothes and stuff in my journey to becoming more queerly punk in my presentation. my biggest goal is to make other more marginalized people in my community feel safe around me. so I’m looking into a lot of patches for BLM, stop asian hate, punch nazis, disability advocacy, etc.

I came across a bunch of patches symbolizing the BPP, and I’d really like to get one, but I do worry that that would be inappropriate in a way as a white person. I am autistic and struggle a lot to understand what is and isn’t appropriate to do/say in attempts at support and allyship, so I figured I’d ask.

my reasoning is that even though I’m not Black, the BPP is my biggest inspiration as a young activist looking to dedicate my life to racial and other forms of Justice. Their work, their platform, their impact, truly transformed my political conscience, but I know that I do not want to make the Black Power movement and the BPP centered around me, but at the same time I want to express how much they mean to me and how much they have influenced my ideas for activism if that makes sense.

it may seem like I am making a big deal over one patch or piece of clothing, this stuff is just so foundational to who I am and what I believe so I tend to be a bit seemingly dramatic about it.

anyways, I’m not here to ask you definitively yes or no if it would be appropriate of me to wear a BPP patch, I don’t want to tokenize your existence or work. But you know so much about the BPP and the history of the Black Power Movement that I really trust anything you have to say on the matter of the line between showing allyship, and centering history that’s not about me, around me. so if you’re up for answering, I’d love your personal perspective on white people using BPP symbolism to show allyship and if there’s any historical examples of why that would be good OR bad.

anyways sorry for the long ask and either way, thank you for everything you do and I hope you have a wonderful day!!

hi lovely! life has been exponentially rough for me lately so in advance, i do not have the emotional capacity to respond to this in the degree in which i'd prefer BUT i feel terrible letting it sit in our inbox forever. here's my most basic perspective for now, in bullet points to help organize my thoughts:

first off, i absolutely adore that you're collecting revolutionary patches! a friend i've made over at Queer Youth Assemble (QYA) has a similar jacket and it's always so colorful, i love it!

thank you for reaching out! i think it shows you have a lot of respect for the Black community and everything that the BPP stood for, which i greatly appreciate.

because i'm aware you hold a deep respect for the BPP, i honestly think it's fine that you have a BPP patch, so long as you understand that history. the BPP were pretty accepting of folks of all races, as shown through their acceptance of non-Black members/partners and serving non-Black communities. a few chapters still exist today around the country (i got to meet a few from the Louisiana chapter, some moved over from California) and they openly teach anyone that's willing to listen! it's just that their focus is on how Black people specifically are affected by systemic oppression and how we can liberate ourselves from such.

[ID: A black and white photo of two children around the age of 9 or so, one white, one Black, eating at the Black Panther Party's free breakfast program. They have white paper plates with crumbs and leftovers on them, cartons of what looks like juice, and plastic utensils. The white child is wearing a Black Panther Party beret with 3 Black Panther Party pins on it as well as a thick coat. The Black child looks down at his plate, his coat zipped up all the way. The caption below the image reads, "Two boys in 1969 at a free breakfast for children program in New York City sponsored by the Black Panther Party. Bev Grant/Getty Images." / End ID]

i think, though, that this is best exemplified through the Rainbow Coalition (now co-opted unfortunately), the alliance Fred Hampton created alongside the Young Patriots Organization and the Young Lords. over time, other radical grassroots orgs began to join like the Brown Berets and the American Indian Movement! the BPP truly respected each of their orgs in their support of their respective communities and it's truly unfortunate that the coalition didn't get to fully take off.

i would refrain from wearing any full regalia though, as this would definitely come off as appropriation. respect and admiration are not the same as a full understanding of the struggle! BPP was about far more than just putting on a specific outfit or throwing up a couple symbols. it was a lifelong commitment, even after you technically left. there was real, heavy trauma associated with one's membership, especially those higher up in leadership. i remember reading elaine brown's autobiography, how she felt herself becoming more violent, having folks beat to a bloody pulp right in front of her eyes. folks frequently had to live in fear that they or their partners would be killed as well. that changes a person, and so do the years spent in jail by so many of the party's members. there was ongoing abuse, misogyny, power struggles and more. it definitely wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.

be aware that my opinion is only my own, so others may not agree!

in summary, go for the patch, just be mindful!

some resources related to what i mentioned:

How three unlikely groups worked together to achieve interracial solidarity (podcast)

This article on Richard Aoki

After the list was finalized, Newton and Seale asked Aoki to join the newly formed Black Panthers. Aoki accepted after Newton explained that being African-American wasn’t a prerequisite to joining the group. He recalled Newton saying:

“The struggle for freedom, justice and equality transcends racial and ethnic barriers. As far as I’m concerned, you black.”

Seize the Time: The Story of The Black Panther Party and Huey P. Newton by Bobby Seale (novel)

A Taste of Power: A Black Woman's Story by Elaine Brown (novel)

Assata: An Autobiography by Assata Shakur (novel)

again, i apologize that i couldn't answer this with the depth i'd like to, but hopefully this helped!

-- reaux (she/they)

#reaux answers #black panther party #black lives matter #bipoc #history #resources

[ghostys-originals]

RKZ Fandom Boundaries/ Consent

Ive seen some creators make these boundary lists as of late and although I’ve accepted that I cannot control what a fandom does, I believe its at least important to vocalize my boundaries so there is no confusion in the future.

This is mainly about Roadkillerz, but can be extended to apply to whatever else I make in the future!

[CW: Brief mentions of nsfw topics, p*dophillia, and other problematic subjects common in fandom, will also briefly mention hate speech]

1. Fan Merch/art/fic/etc

- Although I would prefer if you financially supported me first, I do not mind the creating and selling of fan merch such as art prints, stickers, etc!

- With that said, I will discuss what I am personally comfortable with seeing depicted:

1a. Hate Speech

- I do not encourage the promotion of hate speech such as lgbtq+ phobia, racism, sexism, anti semitism, etc using my work/characters as the face for that. Not only does it directly go against my own values, but for RKZ specifically, goes against the intended themes of the series (nazi “punks” are posers)

- On the topic of politics, I dont mind the promotion of, love speech? I guess? I dont know how the groups affected would feel about fandomifying important issues, but if you want to use RKZ characters for political stances that dont fall under hate speech go for it. Pro-lgbtq fan works for example is fair game.

1b. NSFW

- To be super blunt: I do not mind NSFW content as a concept, majority of my characters are of age (18+) unless stated otherwise.

- I, however, will expect some very basic criteria:

One, I do not feel comfortable with ships between family members, adult/children, etc. I dont want to encourage ship discourse since anything can be considered abusive, but as long as its NEITHER of those two things I do not care.

Two, Please be a responsible ADULT (no minors are permitted to publicly post nsfw content of my work) and keep any nsfw art/fanfiction out of the main tags. I understand minors will still seek out content not meant for them, but there are also people (not just minors either) who want to be able to scroll through a tag without seeing something they dont want to. Sex is about consent, and if your work doesnt include at LEAST a warning of some kind that aint good.

Overall just have some common sense, and if you do see people doing these things please dont debate them- just block and move on. I hate it too but getting into flamewars isnt productive and you’ll just be angry and you’ll never change their minds. Bonus thing: love yourself, care for yourself

Ok I think thats the most i’ll put for that? Now for things unrelated to content

2. Staff interactions

2a. I am alright with having a casual back and forth with fans, however I highly discourage developing parasocial relationships. If you wish to be my friend, you HAVE to treat me like a person. I do not respond well to idol-worship or lovebombing. I’ve had many bad experiences with people being super weird with that. I am not saying this to be rude, but I can and will block you if you make me feel uncomfortable, spam my DMs, or do anything else that I believe oversteps my comfort. I prefer to not befriend fans anyway since that promotes power dynamics, plus the before mentioned idol-worship which just makes me feel inhuman, so do not get your hopes up

EDIT: ALSO THIS SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING, But do not attempt to block evade/cyberstalk either. It WILL not end well for you. (if you want to know what counts as cyberstalking, it should be at the point where you dedicate your life to finding out literally everything about a person- casually checking my socials is fine as long as it doesnt absorb your life)

Cyberstalking and block evading are a clear rejection of established boundaries and if you participate in that, then you are just scum. Theres no woke twist you can put on it to justify it. Its wrong no matter how you feel about somebody.

2b. With that said, please do not harass anybody involved with the production of Roadkillerz/Other works including VAs, friends, friend of friends, etc. Please remember that they are humans too and have the right to privacy and healthy relations like anybody else.

2c. Fetish mining/sharing nsfw content/etc: Even though I said I dont mind NSFW content, I still do not consent to receiving sexual messages from strangers that includes but are not limited to sexting/flirting, sending nsfw art/fics, irl photos in a sexual manner, requesting I draw fetish material like Sam wearing a straight jacket (TRUE STORY, BY THE WAY.), etc.

If i think of anything else I’ll add to this but for now I believe this should be enough.

#important

[mxshpitbaby]

tl;dr about my blog and me!

welcome to my blog:) this is basically my space for everything, so I will repost things I love, and also vent/rant here. kinda unorganized rn, oh well

disclaimer: I have mental health issues (most significantly bpd and anxiety) and I am actively learning how to live and cope with my feelings. One of my ways of coping is writing and blogging, I think finding connection is good for me because in the past I have felt so isolated and thought that no one else knew what I felt, but obviously that isn't true. Healing isn't linear, so that means I will have my bad days and bad feelings, and I'll use this blog to get shit off my chest and feel less alone. However, my account isn't just going to be a hub of negativity and bad feelings, I am also going to post positivity, just my thoughts that come to mind yk, im using this to help express my thoughts/feelings. I'm going to try to organize different posts with hastags, #myblogiventhere will be used for hard feelings, and once i come up with a good enough tag for my other posts I'll edit this and put it in!

get to know me: I consider myself to have the greatest taste in music. I love all metal, especially hardcore, and I have a soft-spot for nu-metal. Of course I love punk and post-punk as well. Fun fact: my license plate was G0THGRL. I love midwest emo and a few emo bands/songs. Local shows and supporting local music is what makes me the happiest in life. I have been learning to play bass and aspire to be in a band eventually

I love all animals, but I'm a crazy cat lady.

gifted kid burnout:) I was mainly gifted in english/reading (fuck math). I used to want to be an author, I won multiple essay contests as a kid. I loved doing speech and debate (& was amazing at it too) basically college drop out too, i had a full scholarship to community college but life fucked that up for me in the middle of my 1st semester.

I have extremely strong leftist, ancom, political beliefs. I used to get into so many arguments and debates for fun that now I'm burnt out of politics and stay more quiet. late stage capitalism is suffocating me.

Random list of (some) of my favorite things: concerts, nature, w33d, halloween, autumn, literature, love, learning, philosophy, poetry, my childhood build-a-bears, sad acoustic songs, baggy, comfy band tees, bass guitar, joey jordison, skateboarding, littlest pet shop, superbad, half-baked, rob zombie's movies, teotfw, photography, art (all mediums, sculpture is my personal favorite!), youtube

Random of list of things I despise (there's too many to list all, i am a hater): having celiac disease, royal blue (such an ugly color), out-of-touch rich people, nazis, ignorance, my anxiety, capitalism, tik tok and what it has done to society (i hate it so much, no account for me), doctors and medical related things, declawing cats, c0ps (1312)

#pinned post #pinned info

[casualwriters]

Eddie s/o being apart of the lost boys and falling for him

A/n- Saw another amazing Author do a cross over with lost boys and stranger things so wanted to do this <3

The first thing after snatching the fucking Diploma from his principal and flipping all the jackasses of teachers off he got the hell out of Hawkins, he drove off away from Indiana and the assholes who were there. He drove for a couple of days stopping at random motels, causing some amusing trouble for the gust and the boss, then he got back on the road heading to nowhere in particular but again he needed to stack up on food and get some gas he drove into a town called Santa Carla he didn't even notice that it been a couple of weeks on the road and he ended up in this town.

Eddie went straight to the boardwalk after he went to check out the record shop witch he met a strange man who owned the place when he was sitting down there playing his guitar that he brought on the road. It surprised him when he saw you walking around the boardwalk at Ten O'clock at night you were blended in with the crowd of punks or rebel teenagers walking or stealing things there were no more family's out this late.

Starting off the conversation with music made him think you were magnificent. Eddie was nervous when you sat on the boardwalk next to him you guys both started talking about Hellfire club when you saw his shirt, He told you it was a dungeon dragons club, he had before he graduated from his old school in Indiana which was a far way from. You both clicked about dungeons and Dragons even if you were over 100 years old you kept up with the time and he didn't need to know that, "what your name?" You asked him he stop playing his guitar for a second turning his attention to you "Eddie what your name princess?" He asked making you look away blush formed your cheeks "Y/n."

You Said goodbye to Eddie has he made you a blushing mess now you had to go back to the boys like this. You grabbed up a surf nazi before you left for the night picking out the skin when you saw some of the boys lounging around the cave making you see David, Paul, and Marko awake. You were like a little sister to them, also one of the youngest, because some of these boys had decades on you. Preparing to be teased you grabbed a random drink taking a sip hearing David tease you about what you were doing there at nighg

"Oh shove off David" you glared playfully at him heading to fall asleep.

A week has passed Eddie was still in Santa Carla he was camping out in his van but that didn't bother him he was just glad he got to see you. "Princess I am not sure about this." He said holding your hand as he was stumbling on the roller skates you guys were wearing. "Oh come on just follow me!" You said holding his hand. That night was hilarious because every time he fell and dragged you with him but you and Eddie hung out for a week or two, he didn't understand why you only came to see him overnight but he didn't pressure you in the sling, test.

When you were ready to tell him that you were extremely nervous, So you let let it fly out that you were undead.

There was silence for a good five minlutes then he broke into a smile telling you why he left Hawkins in the first place it surprised you but you guys both started laughing after that.

When Eddie heard you that you lived with a group of other vampires, he was shocked making you scared but he told you he wanted to meet them.

You told David that you met a guy and he knew that all of us were vampires, he seemed guarded which you figured would happen he didn't taunt Eddie like he did Micheal, because he didn't feel like it was necessary

Eddie was close or holding your hand while he was in the cave, or on one of the beds he stayed close to you which the boys didn't mind, his head would be on your shoulder or playing with your fingers so he wouldn't feel out of place.

Eddie stayed around for a couple of months he clicked with the boys easily but it was the two youngest all three of them were trouble. makers together, but you did enjoy when it all unfolded, or when Paul and Eddie try to prank Marko once and backfired on the two of them.

Paul and Eddie blasted Metal music or rock music through their stereo

Eddie clicked with all the boys in their original way and the group enjoyed Eddie's presents when Eddie had to get back on the road you gave him an old ring of a Coffin and he was glad he has it so he would never forget Santa Carla or the club of misfits.

#the lost boys 1986 #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys

[wepaaaa-ponx]

HAHAHAHAHA

i’m so exhausted from being irritated all day. bc of stuff with my friend who’s been stay with me & bc of some stupid punk shit.

my friend had text me this morning & it just kinda irked me all day. i come home to find her stuff all over the place bc (i already know) she was running around before work bc she’s always late for everything.

as far as the punk shit, i got more info about this dude/one of his bands that someone had warned me about. basically this band from milwaukee has been harassing this black trans person bc one of their members (a white dude) assaulted them. shit got me so heated bc someone else had messaged my bands ig trying to give us a heads up about the situation. i had sent a screenshot to my bandmates & one of them said something along the line of

“i hate when people send stuff like that with no proof” or some shit like that. so i took the  initiative to talk to the person on the side and they gave me more info and the person who had been harmed ig. i should’ve made a bigger deal about it but i kept it in my back pocket.

so yeah, today i got more info about the situation and i’m just so fucking mad bc my ex bandmates DICKRIDE those milwaukee cats so hard. my ex bandmates always wanna talk about “oh that’s my homie” “yeah we’re cool” but when it comes to shit like this they’re just like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ……mf just say you like to party with them foos. but nooooo mfs SO GODDAMN THIRSTY for them stupid ass punk points. nobody’s fucking well-being matters to them unless you got punk points too. fucking trash bro.

& it always makes me think of my bandmate that i started the band with. mf beat up some band called tarantula cos they thought it was all fun n games, putting swastikas on their album art. apparently so many people shamed my bandmate for doing that and i fucking hate that. i hate it bc it seems like now my ex bandmate is terrified of any kind of confrontation so they rather just not say anything than continue to be that person who will fuck you up for being a wannabe nazi/abuser.

i wish that was the person who was in my band. not the scared ass, people pleasing version of them.

#p//

[the-fruit-tea-devil]

Someone tried to cancel me on me on Tumblr 

When I found out about it, I was extremely upset. Like I was about to deleted Tumblr and shit. I was already going through shit but that elevated it from 5 to 10. I was so upset my head hurt and I wanted to throw up. I stayed up late and my uncle told me to go to bed but I didn’t cuz I was too upset and involved in this shit. When my dad called me and told me he wanted me to come back to America, I was so fucking upset at losing this opportunity to stay in Taiwan and be independent. I was so involved in every single thing someone has to say about me. It made me feel so anxious and ashamed that something like that would break me and fuck me up. I even contemplated on wanting to die. They wanted to cancel me from my “safe space” the place I go to escape politics, which is what my other blog @nonpoliticalchinamatsu (aka Taiwanmatsu) is for.

You can just search the name of it I don’t have screenshots because I don’t want to even think about it or remember it.

But yeah, they tried to cancel me because I stole some posts from people that blocked me (and sadly I really liked their content a lot) and because of my political opinions.

Now they probably won’t see this at alll because they have me blocked but anyways, I am genuinely sorry that I rewrote your posts and I already deleted that

(Particularly one from a specific Osomatsu-San blogger who’s username begins with a V; let’s call them V)

And another user told me not to steal V’s posts and they thought I was blocked because I did but it was because of my opinions. And then this person blocked me.

I am genuinely sorry about copying the posts. (I was a minor back then) but I’m not sorry for my opinions because I never said anything that any normal human being would deem bigoted. (Then again, bold of me to assume youre a normal human being with a brain) I bet you can’t name anything I did that was actually bigoted.

I told them via alt account that I’m sorry that I stole V’s post and if there is anything I can do (on my main account) but then they just told me to stop having my opinions and refused to reach out and reason and explain to me for some stupid reason. This person’s name is chorotchi, some punk ass bitch who thought blocking me and talking shit behind my back was a better option that’s going into my DMs and asking me to delete the posts (which again, I already deleted) like a mature adult. But what do you expect? Typical cancel culture loving, petty, braindead Tumblrinas. If you’re gonna be a bitch, then I’ll be a bitch back.

They act as if thinking xenogenders are a joke is the same thing as waving a Nazi flag screaming “kill the tr*nnies!” 

No I’m not a transphobe. I support trans rights and I think gender dysphoria is real and valid and if they wanna transition to their desires gender, I’m not gonna shit on them and tell a trans woman “yOU’rE sTiLL a hE”. I’m not ashamed of my opinions. 

But I’m sorry your brain isn’t big enough to grasp the concept of different perspectives or politics. I’m sorry your IQ is so so low.

Oh and this 👇

This is not bigotry. These are normal beliefs.

Can you tell me what’s wrong with these beliefs? No you can’t. And “you’re a poopy face bigot” or anything along that line isn’t a valid answer, babe 💅 If you think that’s “bigoted” you need to see a doctor because your brain clearly isn’t working. I refuse to apologize for these beliefs. I refuse to apologize for having common sense  I never attacked anyone, I never harassed anyone, I never posted BLmatsu (shipping the Osomatsu san brothers with each other) 

These same people would still call me problematic for saying Karamatsu isn’t secretly a xe/xem big booty trans man, no? And if you wanna headcanon Karamatsu as a xe/xem big booty trans man, go the fuck ahead. Hell I don’t even care if you redraw the Osomatsu San characters as black even though they are clearly headcanoned to be Japanese. 

It’s your own little universe, you can do what you want. These are fictional characters. You can make them gay or whatever if you want, I’m not gonna rain on your parade, this is fandom stuff. We can have fun. 

I would never ever bring any of my politics in this because I’m not an insufferable cunt. (Well, at least not as insufferable as the ones that do.) THAT IS WHY I HAVE TWO SEPARATE BLOGS!

 KEEP 👏FANDOM 👏 OUT 👏 OF POLITICS! (Not counting LGBT but just fucking politics and purposeful divisiveness) 

These bloodthirsty culture vultures need to stop. It’s not about justice. Y’all are basically those group of mean girls saying “you can’t sit with us”!

Edit: I might delete this account soon and I wanna save some stuff from my other blog but I have like over 100 posts so imma have to figure that out :/

#fandom discourse #cancel culture #witch-hunt #Keep your worthless politics away from fandom

[clementinecompendium]

Late Night Thoughts 06.22.23

I feel like I will get rotten tomatoes thrown at me for saying this, but music is not a panacea. It's incredibly powerful but it's not omnipotent. It's not a magic cure for anything and everything. And what you won't do is convince me that a "symphony for world peace" has more merit and weight than a summer hit that has millions of people joyfully dancing or singing along. Now, commercialism is certainly a factor I would consider in judging artistic value, but that is partially why I say music is impotent in some ways — the entertainment industry has grown so large and our options are so vast and constantly new that it's nearly impossible to have a song with the universal impact of, say, "Blowin' in the Wind" or even "Imagine."

I get it — it's a beautiful sentiment. The "universal language," "saying what words cannot." (*Musicology note, the "universal language" really only works if you focus exclusively on Western music theory. Sorry, I loved the Bernstein/Chomsky crossover as much as anyone but it completely omits non-Western music theory. Still, worth checking out just to tickle your brain.)

Here's the thing: the quality in music that we see as "surpassing boundaries" is precisely what makes it unqualified to solve Real World Problems: Music, ultimately, is an art, not a science. (But math! you cry. Ah, my friend, we both know there's more to it than that.) — That's not to say you can't be very literal. You can, of course, write a protest song. You can write an angry punk song. You can write a drunk country song. But as artists surely we must all eventually be drawn to the metaphoric, the figurative, the dramatic, the evocative, the only-alluded-to...

This pointless ramble is leading to the following: I do not want to change the world with the music I make. I want to make music. And I want to change the world. I want to create art and beauty and understanding and connection and fuck it yes escapism, too. I also want to punch Nazis and eat the rich. I don't want to write songs (not exclusively, anyway) about the problems in society — I want to write songs about the things people feel like love and heartbreak and pride and loneliness.

You see, I mentioned escapism above, and that's the thing. I don't think it's fair that we ask music to fix everything. I don't think it's fair that the robots are creating art while humans work for less than living wage. We need music — poetry — drama — all of the arts — to save us from saving the world. Here's my dream: My music won't change the world. But maybe it can burrow down into someone's soul and they can change the world.

#music #musicology #music business #songwriter #songwriting #late night thoughts #blog #clementine compendium

[safety-pin-punk]

FYI: the author of that ""they deserve to die" is something you should never hear a leftist say. if you do, run" post is a Zionist. I guess that mindset doesn't apply to brown people, huh?

But also, you should consider that this is an extremely shallow view of leftism and violence as a tactic. What, you're a "punk" and you think any punk space got safe without a few nazis getting their teeth kicked in? They didn't. Sorry.

I hope you develop a punk mindset that's a little less about shitty bands and an aesthetic and a little more about having firmer political opinions and not agreeing with Zionists.

Your concern in the first paragraph was addressed in a previous post I’ll link to here.

Going off of that, I’m not sure what on my blog, besides the controversy surrounding this specific post (which again has already been addressed), would ever make you think that I would exclude anyone from the statement of ‘we shouldn't say anyone deserves to die’??? I simply. Do not think humans should be killing other humans. At all. Anywhere. On either side of any war. Like. One human should not be granted the power to decide the lifespan of another in my opinion

On that note, being anti-war is actually both a very punk stance AND a left-wing movement. Though I agree, it is a shallow view of leftism. Because leftism is SO much more than a single movement (like the civil rights movement, the feminist movement, the LGBTQ+ movement, the environmentalism movement, anarchy, socialism, the labor movement, and GOD the list goes on). But also. It *does* include being anti-war and anti-'they deserve to die'.

As far as Punk being anti-war and taking non-violent approaches to the larger socio-political changes in the world, I'd recommend looking into Peace Punk. It was very popular in the 70's and early 80's with bands like Subhumans, Zounds, and The Mob. Here's a great beginner article on it!

As to your point about nazis. I promise you I'm not oblivious to the history behind the phrase 'Nazi Punks Fuck Off'. I also would have hoped that someone would be able to see nuance in a statement that say 'lets not say everyone deserves death' and not read it as 'we should let nazis do what they want'. Because that would be stupid. And if you've interacted with my blog for any real length of time, then you would know that I ALWAYS support punching nazis. But evidently that must have slipped your brain.

Now as far as this part of your ask: "I hope you develop a punk mindset that's a little less about shitty bands and an aesthetic and a little more about having firmer political opinions"

First of all buddy, I think I've already demonstrated that my political opinions are pretty firmly set (and that someone hoping on anon isn't going to change them). Personally, I don't feel the need to scream about my political stances every second of the day to make myself feel validated and like a good person. Because I have a life outside of the internet. But you do you I guess. I would however say that its kinda a dick move to just assume that others aren't well educated or have developed opinions when you've evidently only looked at a single post on my blog without actually looking at my blog. Otherwise you would have seen the EXTENSIVE amount of research and punk culture that I've written about or collected either on my own or in collaboration with others.

Really its either that you just didn't look, or because you didn't immediately agree with me, that you decided that my political views had a very shaky foundation. In which case, please do grow the fuck up and learn how to deal with people that have differing opinions than you without being a bitch and ranting about it on anon thanks.

Also. I like my 'shitty bands'. Get over it (Also like. Punk is inherently connected to music and shitty bands? Do you not know that? Do you understand where punk even comes from? I'm all for not needing to listen to punk music to be a punk as long as you align with other facets of the counter culture, but being told NOT to focus on music that is politically charged and full of punk values and history. Well that's a new one lol)

And lastly. Dude if you don't like me, you don't have to be here? You can leave? No one is forcing you to read anything on my blog??? Bye???

#mail tag #yeaaahhhhhhhh if your a dick to me I'll be one right back

[aurodontdoit]

Some Sabo Headcanons: WARNING: SOME OF THESE ARE SPIIIIICY!!! MDNI!

Closet romantic. Reads Koalas romance novels from time to time.

Doesn't really believe in marriage. Due to his noble origins, his viewpoint on marriage was taught about sustaining wealth rather than love.

He strikes me as a guy who would want to grow old with someone, maybe have a family if the Revolutionary Army is successful.

If

As a partner, he's a massive man child, but has his shameless moments too.

What can I say? He's honest and feral.

For example:

"Wow those pants/skirt make your ass look nice. Making me wanna grab you by your hips and run my hands-"

"Sabo!! Don't say such things so unabashedly!"

"Geez I'm sorry!"

Will no hesitate to tell you he loves you and how sexy he thinks you look.

EVERYONE AT THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY BASE HAS HEARD ABOUT YOU OVER ONE MILLION TIMES!

"Its like this one time where y/n and I went on this mission, and we blablabla!"

"Oh for fucks sake! Sabo! Shut up!"

Don't ever interrupt his stories about you or his brothers. He will NOT take that well, unless you are Dragon, Koala, or Hack.

Dates are secret and often times in the confinement of his room. You two eat food, cuddle up, and kiss each other.

He gets heated so fast. Pun intended.

He will light your fire! In more ways than one.

Something tells me he's got multiple kinks.

I'm sure the RA encourages liberation of any and all kinds. *wink wonk*

Light BDSM, Lacey lingerie, cosplay, role play, might be a scailey. May have a dragonsona. I feel like in modern AUs he has a casual dragonsona.

Sex with him is feverish, and tender with a dash of anxious. He wants you. He craves you. He can't stand the thought of being starved of your touch, kiss, delicious moans, and lustrous eyes as he brings you to your high while making sweet love to you.

Wants you to look in his eyes while he makes love to you.

Slow and sensual at first. Then he picks things up as he grows needy for you and your tight walls.

Prefers half clothed on him, and fully bare naked sex for you.

Hes super insecure about his scars.

If he shows you his scars and you kiss them all, he will cry. He will love you all over again. NO LIES.

Let's talk about his wardrobe!

His sense of style is Victorian inspired (Artful Dodger) in canon, but I feel like he'd be all for leather jackets, combat boots, and white tank tops that hug his delicious muscles... oh and when he's running hot and sweating, and you can see the faintest trace of his muscles through the thin fabric.. oof.

Here's why:

Doc Martens. Doc Martens. Doc Martens. This man probably owns a pair or two.

Professionally, he wears sweater vests, and dresses nicely while working for Dragon.

Dresses like the guy you want meeting your family.

Of course that could be a disaster too.

Hes either super nervous, or too feral.

"Nice to meet you Mr. L/n, your daughter/son calls me daddy too."

With the cheekiest of grins.

Polite, caring, teasing, goofy, loving, talkative, passionate, empathetic, independent, funny, intelligent, creative, kind, honest, wild. This is Sabo.

Modern Sabo goes to riots and will punch a nazi or crooked cop.

Listens to punk rock, and classical.

Has diverse tastes in music.

If you're his s/o, prepare to be picked up late at night for a midnight run to the nearest 24/7 food joint for some grub, stargazing, and late night smoking and chatting. (He smokes weed. If you don't like this, that's okay.)

He will not hesitate to kiss you on these dates, and if you're alone, get a little friskier with you. He never wants you to forget how much he loves and values you.

All in all, he's a very loving and adorable dork of a partner.

#autumnrosesimps #autumnrosewrites #sabo one piece #aurosimps #sabo the revolutionary #revolutionary sabo #sabo x y/n #sabo x reader #sabo x you

[luminnara]

Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | Lost Boys x OC  CH 1

Summary: Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who's never stuck in one place for very long...until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she's there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk's nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie

Also posted on AO3

My requests are open!

Chapter one | Chapter two

Warnings: Blood, gore, smut, all that good stuff

Vera had been to a lot of cities, some of them twice, some of them three times, some even more, but none of them were quite as unique as Santa Carla. The boardwalk was crawling with lost souls, kids with nowhere else to go, and she was one of them; no family to call her own, no real friends, barely any possessions…Vera was a wanderer, a lone soul, a lost girl. She drifted from town to town, hanging around for a day or two if nothing interesting happened before moving on...and honestly, nothing very interesting ever happened. 

Sometimes she took the bus, if she had the money from odd jobs or pick pocketing her meals, but for the most part, she was left to her own devices. She traveled on foot when she had to, avoiding major highways unless she was feeling up to a fight. During the day, she took refuge under bridges if she was broke, or motel rooms if she had a little cash. If she felt particularly frisky, sometimes she even managed to seduce locals into helping out, but for the most part, she only had herself as company, traveling by night for no reason other than an insatiable wanderlust and nobody else to spend her time with.

Nothing had ever held her in one place. She had started traveling a long time ago, when she realized she had no reason to stay in her hometown. Plus...people started to grow a little bit suspicious when they noticed too many bodies cropping up. The world was changing, and for someone like her, it was best to stay on the move.

After that, it became a habit, and she got used to wandering and never having a place to call home. Did it ever bother her? Sometimes, when she was resting, it did. She could stop and look at the stars, with some kind of foreign aching in her chest, but it was rare that she thought about it. It had started up years ago, and she had forced herself to get used to it. She had never found any cure, and while she lingered around the east coast, it had finally dulled to a strange, quiet pain. A constant throb in her chest, next to her heart, some kind of strange tightness that she was happy to forget whenever she could. It was becoming more frequent, though, as she neared California, and she chalked it up to the fact that she had been alone and hungry for far too long.

She would have to do something about that soon. She hated feeling hungry.

Vera hopped off the bus when it stopped in Santa Carla, a coastal town that boasted a crowded boardwalk and just the kind of nightlife she needed. From the road, she could see the bright lights of a Ferris wheel and even a roller coaster, and she couldn’t help but smile. She had always liked fairs and carnivals. They were fun and exciting, and good places to pickpocket. Plus, the chaos made it easier for her to go unnoticed.

At the bus stop, she was greeted with boards and telephone poles covered in missing persons ads, and it was an oddly comforting sight. She would fit right in.

“Murder capital of the world, huh?” she said to herself, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She had seen the graffiti on the back of a big WELCOME TO SANTA CARLA sign on the way in, and the flyers only added to the town’s reputation.

Yeah, this place was worth checking out.

The pier was bright, neon signs and carnival rides lighting up the night. Kids and adults alike were enjoying their summer, stuffing themselves with treats or screaming their way around the roller coaster. It all looked fun, she had to admit, and maybe once she had a chance to grab some cash she could hang around and enjoy herself. She could use a break from running constantly, and she was finding that the boardwalk was already making her happy. 

As she walked through the crowds, Vera spotted every kind of person, from middle aged parents toting along a family of four to dirty vagrant children to punks to a couple of weird kids lurking around the comic book store. There were pizza places, cotton candy carts, all sorts of dine in restaurants and bars...Santa Carla seemed like it had everything, but mostly, it was a good place for someone like her to spend some time. 

She sat herself down on a railing, trying to ignore the hunger pains she was feeling as she people watched. Beyond the homeless kids and the weirdos, the boardwalk was full of partygoers, and it looked like summer vacation was in full swing. There were a million smells in the air—cigarettes, weed, funnel cakes—but none of them really caught her attention. She let out a sigh, leaning her chin on her hand. She hated being indecisive about dinner. 

“Ugh, Surf Nazis,” a woman whispered to her friend as they ran by. 

“Gross,” the other wrinkled her nose.

Vera looked past them to the men that were shouting about their asses as they left and she snorted. 

“What’s wrong, girls?” One of them yelled. 

“Come back, we’ll show you a good time!” Another cackled, tossing an empty beer can over his shoulder. 

Vera rolled her eyes. Disgusting, pathetic creatures, all standing around a trash can as they smoked. They smelled awful, she realized with a wrinkle of her nose, and it wasn’t just from their smoke. They were nasty, leering at girls and laughing loudly with each other when the women they were bothering scampered away. 

Well, they weren’t her first choice, but at least she had found a meal.

She hopped off the fence and sauntered in their direction for a moment before turning, giving them just enough time to notice her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them perk up, and before long, all four of them were following her through the crowd, shouting profanities as she made her way down to the pier. 

“Hey baby, where you goin’?” one yelled, jogging to keep up with her pace. 

Vera looked over her shoulder. “Down under the boardwalk...unless you’re chicken.”

She heard a chorus of hoots and whistles and grinned to herself. Men were so easy. 

“I call first dibs!”

“I wanna piece of that ass!” Another yelled.

They always did. Vera was a short girl, only around five feet tall, and stocky. She carried her weight in her legs, giving her thick thighs and a round butt that could never quite stay covered by the denim shorts she loved to wear so much. 

Boys liked the way she looked. They liked how she seemed so easy to grab, so soft, so touchable. As the Surf Nazis followed her down the rickety stairs to a secluded spot under the boardwalk, their hands were already moving, unbuttoning pants and reaching for Vera as if they were entitled to her. She smiled sweetly as she backed into the shadows, cooing for them to follow, grinning sickly when they obeyed. They always did, like lambs to the slaughter, never clever enough to recognize her predatory gaze and dangerous movements until it was too late. 

Sometimes, if they were lucky, they could catch a glimpse of her bra or panties before it was over, but tonight, Vera had little patience for the dirty fingers that tried to pull her shirt off and her shorts down. Their faces leered down at her, even in the darkness, grunting as they palmed themselves through their pants.

She gave them a second to enjoy it before her lips twisted into a sick grin and she reached for them, nails like claws and teeth like fangs. The air was suddenly filled with the sound of their screams, but the waves crashing against the sand drowned the grisly noises out. As she tore into them, she laughed, loving the way they were so terrified now that they had completely lost any sense of power over her.

 Boys always liked the way she looked, until she was covered in their friends’ blood.

-o-

David was having a boring night. 

His boys were under control for the time being, lounging on their bikes next to him. Paul and Marko were laughing loudly, occasionally punching each other just for the hell of it, and Laddie was reading a comic as he clung to Dwayne. Star had decided to stay home for the night, and nobody was complaining about that; at the thought of her, David growled to himself, grimacing at the reminder of the troublesome bitch. Max had wanted a daughter and a good mother for Laddie, and what had they ended up with? A mopey, whiny little cunt who refused to kill and feed like everyone else.

Feed...damn, he could go for a snack. He could practically taste blood in the air as he thought about grabbing a bite, fangs threatening to lengthen. He hadn’t even thought he was that hungry, but now that he was thinking about it, it was bugging him, and when David got the urge to feed, there were very few things that could stop him. The hunger would sometimes gnaw at him the way it did a newborn, and even Max was occasionally put off by it. It was something he expected from a younger vampire, like Marko, maybe, but David? His appetite could be insatiable, truly monstrous in a way that most others’ weren’t. 

The boys picked up on his hunger and he heard a few growls of agreement before he nodded for Dwayne to take Laddie back to the cave. The kid was never allowed to go with them when they hunted, and Dwayne was capable enough to grab something for himself if he didn’t catch up with them. Ever since Laddie had gotten his pesky little hands on their bloody wine bottle, they had been stuck with him, and if Dwayne hadn’t turned out to be so good with the kid, David would’ve been irritated beyond belief. 

It all worked out, though, and Laddie fit in well with the rest of the group. David just had to keep reminding himself to be patient. 

“Anybody catch your eye?” Paul asked as his brother took off down the beach with their youngest member.

“Absolutely fucking no one.” David sneered.

The tall blonde straightened up to sniff the air. “Get a whiff of that, though…”

David paused, mimicking Paul. He was right. There was a metallic scent on the breeze, the sweet smell of fresh blood. It made him thirsty, and as he led Paul and Marko down the boardwalk, it only grew stronger.

“Shit,” Marko mumbled as they started down the stairs to the beach. Once they had broken free of the crowd, the scent had hit them like a train, and even David was having trouble controlling himself.

“Careful,” he warned, voice coming out with a ragged, heavy breath. 

Murders happened in Santa Carla all the time, and not only because of the Lost Boys. It was a rough place, full of drugs and vagrants, and the violence only helped them blend in. Someone had probably gotten themselves in trouble under the boardwalk, and at this point David was just hoping that the killer was still around to sate his hunger. They never fed from corpses, so stumbling across them never yielded any good results unless they were in the mood to rip them apart for shits and giggles.

David was not in the mood.

He led Paul and Marko off the stairs and through the sand, hurrying now as the blood filled his senses. It was so fresh, and there was so much of it...this wasn’t normal, even for the murder capital of the world. What kind of sadistic human would cut someone up enough to spill so much blood? What the fuck was going on under his boardwalk? Sure, it was something he would do, but other than his boys, who could possibly be that brutal?

It was in the shadows of the pier that he finally got the answers to all of his questions. 

Just like the blood had, her scent hit him like a freight train. He could tell Paul and Marko were just as confused by the way they stopped and hissed, fangs already out as they looked down at the bodies littering the sand. It was a gorey scene, throats and stomachs ripped open, Surf Nazis gutted with their pants down. 

And in the middle of it all, she had the audacity to glance up at David, and then completely disregard him as she turned back to her final victim. She wasn’t worried in the slightest about the three males, and that pissed David off a little. When he would have snarled a warning at her insolence, he found himself distracted instead, head tilted and lips parted as he drank in her scent and checked her out.

She was wearing shorts that barely covered her bloody legs, ratty combat boots on her feet and an equally ratty denim vest over a ripped up black shirt. Her ebony hair was cut into some sort of shaggy mullet,  falling around her shoulders. It was long and wavy and glossy, but tousled and messy, no doubt thanks to feeding. 

He could only stare in shock at the black-haired girl that was feasting on a Surf Nazi. He couldn’t decide if he was angry at someone else hunting on his turf or happy to find a real female vampire, one that wasn’t stupid and whiny like Star, but the one thing he knew for sure as he took a step towards her was that he was just the tiniest bit turned on.

Paul and Marko could both smell the tiniest hint of their leader’s arousal, and it excited them. They weren’t used to supernatural girls, and the thought of getting a turn with her was enough to make the air heavy with the scent of lust as they followed David. 

Paul let out a low whistle behind him. “Shit, first time I wouldn’t mind bein’ a Surfer. I’d take a little of that sugar right now, know what I’m sayin?”

The vampiress lifted her head from her victim and smiled, drunk on blood and high off the hunt. “I don’t usually share meals, but I’ll give you the rest of this one if it gives me a free pass back outta here.”

Paul tensed to take her up on the offer, but David stopped him. “Free pass?”

The girl sat back from the still-whimpering Surf Nazi, blood running down her chin. “Figure you wouldn’t want me in your territory. Sorry. Didn’t realize anybody else was here, else I’d have been moving on already.”

David smirked. “No need, sweetheart.”

She furrowed her brow. 

“It’s feeding time, boys. Grab a snack.” David grinned, allowing Paul and Marko to surge forward and rip into the Surf Nazi. He watched with a twinge of annoyance as Paul turned from his meal and pressed his bloody lips to the girl’s, but that annoyance turned into surprise when she kissed back, albeit lazily. 

She smiled as her lips moved against his, a hand moving to tangle in his wild hair. Fire tore through Paul and he growled, pushing her down until her back hit the sand and her chest touched his as her breaths turned into frenzied pants. 

Hands ran down her sides, hard nails digging into her skin as Paul nipped at her lower lip. With a whine, she arched up against him, tugging at his hair until he snarled.

“Paul,” David growled a warning. 

Paul sat back up with an irritated grumble, licking his lips before plunging his fangs into the Surf Nazi and leaving Vera alone.

David had to admit, he had never met a female vampire that wasn’t stuck in limbo like Star. They seemed rare, or at least they were around California, but Max had always told him that girls of their kind were a special breed. He was already feeling a tug toward her, some kind of something pulling at his chest whenever she moved, and before he knew what he was doing, he was crouching down to suck up the last few drops of blood while his boys turned their attention to the killer.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” Marko asked, playing with a strand of her hair. 

“Vera,” she answered with the sweetest voice either of them had ever heard, practically a purr. 

Paul sighed, leaning in again. He was head over heels already. “What brings you here to our little corner of the world, Miss Vera?”

She blinked, and they were fucking mesmerized by those lashes and those hazel eyes. “Just passing through, boys. Don’t wanna step on any toes.”

Paul groaned. He wanted her to stay. She smelled amazing, and when she had returned the kiss he hadn’t even realized he was giving her, he felt jolts of electricity shoot through every part of his body. 

He wanted more.

“Damn, babe, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he said, holding her face so that he could lick blood off her chin.

“No fair,” Marko nudged his brother. “I want a taste…”

David looked up from the drained corpse, listening as his boys slurred with love drunk voices. Max had warned him about females, about those with foreign sires. They could trap you in a web of lust, keep you dumb and happy there for as long as they wanted, rob you blind and kill your entire family...but somehow, he got the feeling that Vera wasn’t even trying to fuck with them. There was no misty, foggy sensation that would signify magic, no eye contact, no focus. As he rose to his feet, he realized he was walking towards her of his own accord, the only spell being that strange, unspoken one that kept pulling him to her.

He had an inkling of what it could be, but he didn’t dare get his hopes up.

“Got a place to stay, darling?” He asked as he shoved his boys out of the way and knelt before Vera. 

She leaned toward him, a sweet smile on those bloody lips that told him she was confident enough in her ability to handle them all. She was calm, completely in control of herself, even when faced with three healthy male vampires. Her eyes were half-lidded, long lashes fluttering whenever she blinked. 

When her tongue slipped out to lick blood off her lips, David’s eyes widened at the sight of something he had never seen before. It was split in two, each side moving of its own accord easily. Paul let out an eager noise, Marko shoving him with his shoulder to try to get a better look. Vera just laughed at their fascination, pulling her tongue back into her mouth and smiling. 

David could feel her breath on his cheek as she took in his scent and he couldn’t help the shiver that went up his spine. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her better than Paul had, to fuck her and hear his name on her lips. He wanted to show her how strong he was, to impress her, to prove himself for some reason. He would kill a hundred surfers if he had to, if it would grant him her favor. He would sit out in the sun and burn himself if it meant he could be hers. 

He had never felt this way about anyone, and it was pissing him off.

Vera laughed to herself. She could smell his desire, and she knew that it was because of her. Just like those Surf Nazis, these vampires wanted her, but at least she liked this little pack. What’s more, that aching in her chest had stopped when they showed up, and she had a feeling she knew why. 

It was a little bit terrifying, though, and she wasn’t about to stop and think about it. 

“What are you suggesting?” She asked, brushing her fingers along his cheek, a smear of blood following. 

“Stay with us,” he breathed, blue eyes locked with hers. 

“Darling, I don’t even know your name,” she quipped, never shifting her gaze. 

“David,” he said with a slight growl as he felt himself getting lost in her eyes. 

“David,” she repeated, voice soft and breathy. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, nose twitching as he smelled the fresh blood in her wrist. It was sweet, sweeter than any blood he had ever encountered before, and all he wanted to do was sink his fangs into her flesh and get a taste.

Vera heard a sigh and finally took her eyes off David. The other two were watching, just off to the side, staring hungrily at their leader and the new girl. 

“And what about you two?” She asked, hand sliding down to the side of David’s neck to keep him in check. She was confident enough in herself to handle him, but at the same time, he put her on edge. There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him yet.

That was the thing about female vampires, though; they had the uncanny ability to always put on a facade, and Vera was no exception. David made her nervous—they all did, honestly—but she wasn’t about to let them know that. 

“Paul,” the tall blonde said quickly, rushing forward as if he would die without her touch. He pressed his nose against her throat, breathing her scent as if he was starving. 

“Marko,” the smaller one followed, desperately reaching out to touch her hair. 

“Paul,” she purred, earning a growl. “...Marko…”

Another growl. 

They acted like they needed her, all three of them, but they were behaving themselves. She had no doubt that if she gave them the go ahead, she would be naked within seconds, but for the moment, they were listening to her. She had never experienced something like this before; usually, other vampires ignored her, or threatened her until she left their territory. These boys seemed to adore her, and she had to admit, she liked it. 

“Paul, Marko,” David said roughly. “Clean up so we can go home.”

With a groan, the younger two did as they were told, dragging Surf Nazi corpses into the ocean before wiping their hands and faces clean. 

“You’re their leader,” Vera said, more as an observation than anything else. “Are you their sire?”

David smirked as he helped her to her feet. “Depends on how you look at it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one way to look at that, David.”

He melted when she said his name, leaning in to catch another whiff of her scent. It was sweet, like honey, sticky and sick, and all he wanted was to drown in it. “What have you done to me, Vera?”

She smiled and took his hand, raising it to lick blood off of his fingers. “Nothing on purpose, I promise.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t mind,” Paul suddenly grabbed her from behind, arms snaking around her waist as he buried his nose in her black hair, inhaling deeply and letting out a happy sigh. The feeling of her there in his arms, pressed up against him, was enough to make his fangs slide out again, and he couldn’t help but swipe his tongue up the side of her neck.

David snarled, snapping only inches from his brother’s face. “Behave.”

“You say as if you are,” Vera snorted, giving David a gentle push and easing her way out of Paul’s grip. “But you boys are all very sweet. I don’t mind the attention.”

“Oh, you have our attention, sweets,” Paul whistled as she turned and bent over to wash her face and hands at the water’s edge, giving them all a good view of her ass. A low rumble rose in David’s throat as he appreciated the sight, and Marko echoed it. 

“So greedy,” Vera mocked as she straightened up again. “Are you this nice to every bloodsucker that hangs out on your boardwalk, or is it just me?”

“Just you, that’s for sure,” Marko said, almost cackling.

“The others aren’t so delicious,” Paul cooed with that signature laugh. 

“Oh, aren’t you a charmer?” Vera said, walking back to them. Now that her arms and legs were clean of blood, they could see that she was covered in tattoos, and David wondered if she had them as a human before she was turned, or if she had found some way to make the ink stay in her regenerative skin.

Paul gave her a cocky grin and David rolled his eyes. His brother was such a flirtatious bastard. He was a lady killer, literally, even more than David was, but Vera didn’t seem to mind his advances. She seemed comfortable with Paul, taking it all in stride.

It made David just the tiniest bit jealous. 

“Come with us.” He said it more as an order than an offer, extending his hand out to her. 

“Unless you got somewhere better to go,” Marko joked. 

“And there ain’t nowhere better,” Paul snickered.

“There aren’t too many places to hide from the sun on a boardwalk,” Vera snorted. She was finally coming down from her high, the thrill of the hunt fading again and giving way to her less monstrous personality. “I was going to have to find a good spot anyways…”

Now that she wasn’t operating solely on instinct, she could take a moment and think about her situation. Three male vampires, none of whom had tried to kill her for stealing prey in their territory, seemed to be absolutely obsessed with everything about her and wanted her to go home with them. One had even kissed her and she had kissed him back, because it had felt so right. She allowed them to touch her, to taste her skin, to share her meal. They were stronger than her, and they outnumbered her, but she still felt like she was...in charge? 

David, the definite leader of the little pack, was looking at her hopefully. His face was stony, but she could see excitement in his blue eyes, and when she smiled, there was a spark of something in those irises. 

“Just don’t kill me in my sleep,” Vera joked as David took her hand and began leading her back up to the boardwalk. 

“No promises,” Marko leered as they followed.

“You look good enough to eat, babe,” Paul growled playfully, lunging forward to cop a feel of her ass. 

Vera only laughed, but David snarled dangerously at his brother, moving his arm to Vera’s shoulders and pulling her against his side. 

“Relax, you big angry beast,” Vera said with a grin, raising her hand to his chin and giving a teasing scratch. 

David huffed and Marko hooted with laughter. “Damn, she’s way more fun than you, David!”

“I dig this chick,” Paul snickered.

“You better share her,” Marko whined.

David smirked as they climbed the stairs back up to the boardwalk. Could he manage that? He only ever shared things with his brothers, but even then, he was terrible at it. Vera had some kind of magnetic pull on him, yeah, and his mouth watered at the thought of keeping her around, but Marko and Paul were both obviously into her...and she was into them. 

She was into all of them.

He needed to talk to Max. He honestly hated having to ask his sire for help or advice, and he avoided it whenever he could. Max had never been very nurturing, despite wanting everyone to act like a big family. It worked out for the boys, sure, but Max was…not a great father. A patriarch, yes, always seated at the head of the metaphorical table, but he was cruel and cold towards David, and he had been from the very start. He thought they all needed a stern hand to keep them in check, and David didn’t like that. 

Still, Max let them run free, and he knew more than David did about their own kind. He was helpful, sometimes, in his own way, and his son was going to have to defer to him. He had questions about Vera, about the pull he felt toward her, and Max was the only one with the answers.

As they returned to the boardwalk and joined the crowd of humans, Vera was pleased to see that the sea of people parted for the boys. They stepped aside, glancing with mixtures of emotions at the little pack. Girls looked dreamy, parents grabbed their children, Surf Nazis raised their lips in sneers. Was it because of their reputation, or did the humans somehow know that they should be afraid of the predators that stalked Santa Carla? She hoped it was both. She hoped that these boys were wild and rowdy enough to rule this boardwalk, and she hoped that they liked her enough to keep her around. 

She glanced up at the sky, a few stars twinkling despite the light pollution from the city. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t itching to hop on a bus or hitch hike to the next town. For once in her life, Something was occupying her mind, and the wanderlust was giving way to another, completely foreign feeling. The ache in her chest was gone, but it was replaced by a strange, burning, almost longing that she had never felt before. It was almost similar to the emotions she experienced during bloodlust, but she was in control of herself. Her fangs weren’t poking through, her eyes weren’t shining...she was happy and her hunger was sated, so where was this coming from? 

She was still avoiding the one train of thought that would bring her to the right conclusion. It was just too much to consider, especially with everything happening so quickly all of the sudden. 

They came to a halt when they reached their bikes, Dwayne already back from dropping Laddie off. From the looks of it, he had grabbed a bite on the way, jeans stained with fresh blood that the humans would just assume was from a fight. 

Vera stopped. There was another male here? She was finding it hard to believe that she had stumbled across a pack of four males without any females, but she couldn’t smell much in the way of estrogen on them. It was just odd; vampires didn’t usually live in bachelor groups like these, but she supposed it wasn’t entirely unheard of. It was just strange that they hadn’t found any girls they wanted to keep around for all eternity.

Most people got lonely eventually. Maybe these four were all actually lovers...but she hadn’t seen any marks that would mean they were claimed, and she hadn’t smelled or sensed anything that would lead her to believe that they were serious.

Odd.

The one leaning against the bike was tall, long dark hair falling around his shoulders and a curious, but serious, expression on his handsome face. She felt frozen under his gaze, uncharacteristically nervous, like a deer in the headlights. It was like he could see right through her, and she didn’t know if she liked that or not.

“Dwayne, this is Vera,” David said as he tugged her along. She found a way to make her legs work again and followed, letting a smile curl its way onto her lips when Dwayne bowed his head to her. 

“And she’s tough,” Marko said, bouncing over to his bike. 

“And she’s gorgeous,” Paul took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss as he passed her.

“I can see that,” Dwayne said, his voice deep and smooth, a seductive smile on his lips. 

David narrowed his eyes, but tried to hide the movement with a smirk. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going to visit Max.”

“Oh, I’ll keep both eyes on her,” Paul winked as he beckoned for her to sit behind him on his motorcycle. 

David rolled his eyes, desperately trying to not make a scene. “Control yourself. I’ll be back.” 

He pressed a kiss to Vera’s head, inhaling deeply before leaving her side and stalking off down the boardwalk. He could already feel his sire tugging questioningly at his consciousness, curious as to why David was so eager to speak to him. His son had always been good at blocking him out, keeping his mind locked down unless he needed something or there was trouble that called for Max’s attention. The others were more open, but Max didn’t have as strong a link with them, and while David was supposed to be his prodigal son, he was so...secretive. Private. Closed off. For him to be willingly heading to the VideoMax store for anything other than annoying him or hitting on Maria out of boredom, something very important had to be going on, and Max was beyond itching to know what it could be. 

“Who’s Max?” Vera asked, joining Paul to perch on the back of his bike. 

“David’s sire,” Marko answered. 

“A grouchy old bloodsucker,” Paul grinned. 

“He runs the video store. He hates it when we crash.” Marko laughed. 

“But...that cashier is pretty cute,” Paul said, thinking of Maria. “I’d love for a bite of—”

He was cut off by the breath leaving his body when Vera wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. 

Marko hooted with laughter at his brother’s reaction and Dwayne let out a chuckle. Paul was absolutely speechless, and Vera wasn’t even making skin on skin contact with him. 

Until she felt him tense, smirked against his back, and slid her hands under his mesh shirt. 

If Paul could blush, he would have. He would have been a shade past tomato red. The feeling of her fingers running over his abs was all he could focus on for a moment, and all he wanted was to kiss her again, feel her again, maybe get a little tongue action...

“You’re supposed to behave yourself, Paul,” Marko taunted as he caught a whiff of the lust in the air and felt his brother’s excited thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul snarled. “I don’t need this shit from you.”

“I’m just repeating what David said,” Marko said defensively. “You’re the one who can’t keep it in his pants.”

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect little angel?” Paul shot back. “I’m the one with a goddess on his bike, might I remind you.”

Marko scoffed, lip raised in a nasty little snarl. “Not for long, Paul!”

Vera smiled as they bickered. Paul’s arousal hung in the air, but she didn’t mind; in fact, she liked it, and she hugged her arms around him tighter as he squabbled with Marko. She was eager to get back to wherever it was that they called home, and she was eager to sleep surrounded by them and feel truly safe for once. She was used to being alone, and she wasn’t scared of it, but she was always on edge, always ready to run or fight. It made her a light sleeper, and the concept of not having to worry was more tantalizing than any of these boys were on their own. 

#goddamn shit sucking vampires #the lost boys #lost boys x reader #lost boys x oc #david lost boys #dwayne lost boys #paul lost boys #marko lost boys