#author: stu

[destielomegaversebigbang]

Take Two

Author: Stu

Artist: LadyRandomBox

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Both single dads, Dean and Cas meet after they’re called to the principal’s office because their teenage daughters were in a fight. Then they run into each other again. Willing to try with Cas, Dean agrees to a date, a family date.

After a few eventful dates, Cas offers to help Dean through his next heat.

Is it too much too fast? Is it smart to get serious when their kids could get hurt, again?

Warnings/Tags:Family fluff, Teenage angst and stereotypes, Mentions of loneliness, Minor queer slurs, Heat sex (oral, anal, knotting, oral knotting) later rimming, Body issues and gender dysphoria from them, Mentions of pregnancy and empathetic lactation, Found family, Past grief and abandonment, Minor nod to John Winchester’s A+ parenting, Deceased Kelly Cline, Shitty mom Lydia, Dean and Cas are both Vers, Minor smoking and vaping

Link to Fic

Link to Art

[slasher-fxcker]

Slashers seeing their future S/O for the first time

Part 1

Including: Billy Loomis, Bo Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Lester Sinclair, Stu Macher & Vincent Sinclair.

Warnings: Mentions of death, slashers being slashers. This page is 18+ Minors do not interact.

A/N: Okay this is my first post on here so any and all feedback is welcome! Also, there will be a part two, I will be including all the slashers I write for I just got a bit carried away and I thought it was a bit long for one part lol. Second part will include Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire and Jesse Cromeans.

Billy Loomis:

· This was meant to be an easy kill for Billy. Some geek that showed up at a party he shouldn’t have been at, Billy had been watching him for most of the night when he saw his target getting ready to leave. He started heading to the closet he hid his Ghostface costume in when someone crashed into him spilling their drink all down the front of his shirt.

· Billy was in two minds about whether he should give them a piece of his mind or ignore their apologies and sneak away anyway. But as he looked up whatever reply he had planned got caught in his throat. When he looked into your pleading eyes he could immediately tell how bad you felt. He didn’t realise he was staring until he noticed you were waiting for a response.

· He regains his composure and brushed off your apologies, telling you not to worry about it. You seemed relieved and he couldn’t help but smirk at how you looked around the room frantically. “Lost something?” he finally asks you, “Am I that obvious?” you laugh before holding your hand out, “I’m Y/N, Randy’s cousin.” Billy seemed to stare at your hand for a second before taking it in his and introducing himself. Maybe just this once he’d let the target go and find something worth enjoying.

Bo Sinclair:

· Getting out of the beat-up truck Bo winced as he felt the pain in his arm of the wound that hadn’t fully healed just yet. Lightly holding the spot and remembering how one of the victims had cut him good with that knife. He sighed and shrugged the thought off before walking towards the dimly lit bar. Sitting down on one of the stools and ordering a beer.

· He soon becomes aware of a man groaning angrily at one of the nearby pool tables, “There aint no way you're winning again without cheatin’” he hears the man grumble. Bo’s fairly accustomed to the usual pool bets but what does surprise him is the feminine laugh he hears in response, he turns around to see you bent over the table lining up your next shot. He feels his throat dry up at the sight of the position you’re in and the teasing smirk that’s on your face.

· “Don’t be a sore loser Jimmy,” you laugh before sinking yet another ball into its socket. Bo can barely take his eyes off you as he leans back taking another sip of his beer. You and the man seem to go back and forth in arguing about the game, and he feels like he could watch you all night. The game is coming to an end with you clearly winning, before he even thinks about it Bo has downed the rest of his beer and is walking towards you. As you’re lining up your final shot Bo slams down a couple of bills on the side of the pool table, you look up at him and he flashed his signature grin at you, “I’ve got winner,” he says as he looks you up and down. You sink your last ball before turning back to him, “You’ve got it handsome,” she smirks. Oh, you were trouble, and Bo couldn’t wait to see how this night turned out.

Jason Voorhees:

· It had been a quiet week for Jason, no campers, no teens, nothing. He had been out collecting wood for the fire when he found a small stone, he liked collecting bits and pieces from around the woods. Small knickknacks to decorate the shabby cabin he called home. The stone had five points and could be seen as almost the shape of a star, what Jason didn’t realise was he had spent far too long invested in the stone to notice someone walking on the trail nearby. The snapping of some sticks broke him out of his thoughts as he saw a figure nearby.

· Jason quickly shoved the stone in his pocket before walking silently to a spot where he could watch the trail without being spotted. He watched you from afar for a while, seeing you look around you as you made your way down the path. The way you watched the nature around you with a small smile on your face made Jason feel a warmth inside him. He followed you all the way to the camp grounds. You seem surprised to find the open space on your trip. You sat down on one of the stone seats before unpacking some lunch for yourself.

· It wasn’t long before you had gotten up and were walking around the small opening. It was then that Jason heard you speak for the first time which caused him to tense in fear. “Hey there little guy.” That was it, you must’ve seen him. He froze as you stepped towards his hiding spot only to stop a few feet in front of where he stood, where he thought he was hidden by the shrubs. But you weren’t looking at him to his relief, he saw the small squirrel perched on a branch that seemed to have your attention. He felt himself relax as he noticed this before trying to silently move further to the other side of the clearing.

· To his surprise the squirrel hadn’t run away, he must’ve smelt the food in your hand as he stood hesitantly sniffing the air. “You hungry?” you asked him rhetorically before holding out a small piece of crust for the squirrel and placing it on the branch near him. Jason watched and couldn’t help but melt at your kindness, he heard the familiar voice in his head but this time the voice was calm, telling him you needed protection, you needed him. But how was he supposed to approach you. A few minutes passed and you turned back to your seat, walking over you noticed something had now been placed where you once sat. You picked up the small stone, noticing it was shaped like a star. You looked around for someone before looking back at the stone, a small smile on your face. It warmed Jason’s heart as he prepared himself to find you more gifts.

Lester Sinclair:

· Lester found himself almost zoning out as he drove down the all too familiar road, the predictability of the same turns and sights that he saw every day seeming to get on his nerves today. Until he noticed a car on the side of the road, he hated his part in this, he tried to just shut himself off from it and think of whoever the poor bastard was that wandered their way as just a stranger, a nobody with no identity. It helped that they were usually rude to him, at least that way he felt less remorse for them. He couldn’t see the person that was hidden under the hood, probably uselessly trying to figure out what was wrong with their car.

· “Looks like you could use a hand.” He didn’t expect the slight squeal from whoever was behind the hood before you walked out, “oh gosh you gave me a fright,” you giggled. Lester was trying to pick his jaw up off the floor and string a sentence together, you definitely weren’t the first young lady to come through these parts but he sure thought you were the prettiest. “Uh, sorry ma’am.” He gulped before wracking his brain for words, “I saw you stuck here and thought you could use a hand.” You sighed before closing the hood, “Unless you happen to have a fanbelt on you, I don’t think so,” He felt the slight dread creep up as he remembered the scenario, he hesitated before spilling his usual script about taking you to see Bo. Of course, you agreed, having no other option and climbing into his truck.

· Not long into the drive you spoke, “I’m Y/N by the way,” he nodded before realising you were waiting for a response, “Oh, I’m Lester,” he responded. “Lester,” you repeated with a smile, he couldn’t help the feeling in his stomach when you repeated his name. “Well thank you very much Lester, I definitely owe you one for driving me all this way.” The more you spoke the worse he was starting to feel, you seemed kind, you were nice to him which was a welcome change, you laughed along with him instead of at him, you didn’t deserve the fate that you were walking into. As you neared Ambrose he realised he couldn’t let you die, he didn’t know how yet but he would do everything he could to keep Bo from hurting you. He knew life was going to be anything but predictable with you around

Stu Macher:

· Stu groans when the bell rings, his least favourite subject and it was the first lesson of the day. “You coming Stu?” He looks at Randy as he seems to think it over, “Nah, we’ve got Evans, I don’t need another detention from that douche.” Randy just rolls his eyes as Stu starts walking in the opposite direction, he hears Randy grumble some smart-ass comment to himself as he walks away.

· Stu was about to turn towards the entrance when he heard you curse to yourself, he glanced at you before turning the corner. “Woah,” he stopped in his tracks before backing up back into the hallway and looking you over again. You must be new, he definitely would’ve remembered you if he had seen you before. You're too engrossed in the paper in your hands to notice someone coming up to you and leaning against the lockers. He puts on his cheesiest grin before getting your attention “Hey there,” you almost jump out of your skin as you drop your books.

· “Oh man I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Stu apologises as he crouches down and begins to pick up your things, you join him in picking up your books, “No don’t be, I should’ve been paying more attention,” you give him a soft smile before standing back up as he passes you some of your belongings, “You must be new, haven’t seen you around here,” you just nod before continuing, “actually, i’m having some trouble finding my class,” he looks over the schedule you had been engrossed in. “Oh that’s actually where I’m headed, I can take you if you’d like,” he couldn’t help but smile at the way you beamed up at him as you agreed.

· The walk was filled with Stu making you laugh, as you neared the class he seemed to slow down and began talking to you again. “You know, I’d be happy to show you to your other classes if you need help finding them after this?” you agreed and he walked into the class with you. A big smile on his face even after being reprimanded by your teacher. “I thought you weren’t coming,” Randy whispers to him, “Yeah something changed my mind,” he replied, not taking his eyes off you. Maybe this class was worth showing up to.

Vincent Sinclair:

· Vincent had been in the museum, positioning his newest artwork. He stared at it with a slight tilt of his head, questioning every stroke, every pose and every colour. He couldn’t help it, he knew he was good at what he did but insecurity still nagged at every decision he made. He was in his own world when the creak of the front door broke him out of his stupor. Bo had told him a small group of victims would be heading down to the museum while he worked on ‘finding’ a fan belt for them. Vincent was quick to move to his usual hiding spots to watch them.

· Vincent hated how loud this group was, joking and making fun of his art. “You have to be pretty sick to make any of this.” One of the guys spoke up, Vincent immediately started thinking of how he would hurt this man. It wasn’t until a softer voice spoke up that he noticed the girl trailing at the back of the group, “Come on guys, don’t be so rude. Someone must have put a lot of effort into these.” It was then that Vincent could finally make out your form, you seemed quiet even when speaking up for him, defending his work. Vincent wished he could get a better look at you. The man scoffed, “Okay art freak.” Vincent saw the way you practically flinched at the insult before turning away from the group to go and look at some other pieces.

· Vincent felt angry, the man would definitely suffer. He made his way closer to where you were, staying hidden as he watched you from afar. He could tell the insult had hurt you and this only made him angrier. You seemed to pause as you squinted closer to the art work on the wall, brushing some dust off the framing. “Vincent,” you read the signature to yourself with a small smile on your face, Vincent stilled when he heard you. He wasn’t sure what it was but something about hearing you say his name struck a chord in him. He was more than intrigued by you, he felt drawn to you in a way he had never felt before. He wasn’t sure what this meant but whatever it was he knew Bo wouldn’t like it.

[reallybadblackoutpoems]

traits and stories of the welsh peasantry (1849) - anne beale

"all hallows' een"

[stumacherwazzaaap]

Me and billy are now NOTHING. HE MEANS NOTHING TO ME. FUCK ALL OF YOU

[lilchan076]

What if police saw on wattpad and Tumblr, the stories of people living with serial killers...

[midnightdemonhunter]

Read @whats-those's Scream timeloop fic recently and had a wonderful time! Very good character voices, and some entertaining alternate deaths! Definitely check it out if you like Scream, Stu and a no good very bad day for him! (x4)

[blackwolfstabs]

Parker's Secret Santa Gifts🎄for @alphawolfstabs

YOUR HEART OR MINE

One knew what he wanted but didn’t know how to persuade. The other knew how he wanted to take it but was holding back.

fandom: Scream pairing: Billy Loomis × Stu Macher characters: Billy Loomis & Stu Macher a/n: i've never written about stuilly before so i have no idea how accurate this may or may not be. i'm so sorry for all the billy and stu writers that gag at this haha. anyways, enjoy :)

While it had only been a little over an hour since Billy had been submerged into his homework, it had felt like hours for Stu. He had gone through as many activities as he could to keep him entertained, while the other was still reading, writing, or doing whatever it was he was doing for class. He liked having him over, but he didn’t like spending it without talking or engaging in anything together, at all. There was no telling when he would be summoned home by a phone call.

On the other hand, Billy didn’t mind not actually doing anything together. They didn’t have to talk or even acknowledge each other. Just being in the same room was enough for him, even though staring at the same formatted words and questions over and over again made his head pound.

“Billyyy…” 

Stu’s voice interrupted his concentration, but he didn’t look up. “What?”

“I’m bored. Are you almost done?” he asked, tossing up a tennis ball as he slouched his computer chair.

“You said it’d be fine if I worked on homework here,” came the flat reply.

His friend sighed a somewhat dramatic sigh and stopped throwing the ball up in the air. “Yeah, but do you think you could, like, take a break or something?”

He put his pencil down and glanced over his shoulder. “I guess.” There was a look in the blue eyes that stared back at him that said he wasn’t just looking for something to do. He knew what he wanted, he just needed acceptance. “What do you want to do?”

Macher’s signature grin grew on his face, however he still tried to play it cool as he got up to make his way towards the bed. “Well, I dunno—”

“Yeah, you do,” the other immediately cut him off with a light scoff, turning back to his homework.

“Just… chill out, maybe?” He jumped onto the mattress and crawled over to the head of it. He craned his neck a little to see over Billy’s shoulder. “If you can put your fuckin’ homework down, you teacher’s pet,” he teased.

“Hey.” Billy turned his head enough to look at him. “At least I actually do my homework. How many classes are you failing again?”

Stu took no offense, just continued to tease him, “You only do yours because your mommy tells you to.”

This time, he set his homework on the bedside table and turned to grab a pillow, which he smacked him with.

“Oww!” the older teen cried in mock pain, the impact knocking him off balance.

“Serves you right.”

Macher scoffed—in his now-lying position—and reached behind him. “Oh, yeah?” He pulled out another pillow and returned the slap. “Take that!” He hit the other’s upper back, which had him earning a sarcastic smirk.

“Was that supposed to hurt me?” Loomis turned around to face him, still holding his weapon as he crept onto the bed fully.

The way his voice sounded—steady and cool—sent a shiver down Stu’s spine, those dark eyes only influencing that flustered feeling that had been taunting him for months now. “No-ho,” he laughed as he shook his head, when Billy stalked closer to him. “This is!”

The flash of color that came towards the younger teen didn’t reach him like it was intended to, for he caught it with his free hand. Ocean eyes lit up before him, and he knew the exact words running through his head.

“Aw, I fucked up!” 

Billy grinned a wolfish grin, “Yeah, you did.” He ripped the pillow out of Stu’s grip, then pelted him with both cushions at once. “Now, what are you gonna do?!”

Macher shouted in a playful way as he turned his back and put his arms over his head for protection. “That’s cheating!” 

But the attacker didn’t care and pounced on his prey by straddling him with his knees. It was somewhat awkward, but he wasn’t thinking about that at the time. “How’s it cheating? You made a stupid move, you’re the one who got yourself into this,” he taunted, continuing to hit him.

“Billyyy!”

“Fight me! Fight me, like a man!”

By now, they just looked like two rambunctious puppies barking back and forth for the upper hand. As Stu continued to take the bombardment, he could hear Billy start to laugh, and it made his face burn. Billy didn’t laugh much, not in the playful, genuine way like this was. It was a little higher than the laughs he gave when making a snide comment or being sarcastic. It was a young-at-heart kind of expression, and that sent the underdog blushing immediately. He broke his makeshift cover to grab both of Billy’s wrists and hold them in a firm grip. 

This caught him off-guard, which allowed the older teen to make his next move. Being taller, he was able to twist beneath his friend’s straddling knees and push himself into a semi-slouch, using the support of the headboard. He brought his knees up, which pushed Billy forward to have his knees corralling his hips and his backside supported by Stu’s thighs. 

Suddenly, the lighthearted moment the other was immersed in vanished for one of surprise as he dropped the pillows. The words that he always managed to spit out around his friend were lost for mere silence as he could only blink into the bright eyes gazing at him.

This just made Stu smirk. He knew he had just taken control without giving any combative retaliation. He also knew his face was bright red with the amount of heat that surged through him at being that close to Billy, let alone having him basically locked onto his lap. “Now, what are you gonna do?” he used his own words against him.

Loomis swallowed, his heart racing while he instinctively tried to twist his wrists a little bit. He glanced away shyly, “U-um…” He was drawing a major blank, emphasis on major.

However, while it was awkward for one, it was endearing for the other. Macher released his wrists to then wrap his arms around his waist, holding him in place. 

The tension between them had grown heavy in a matter of seconds, somewhere between hope and despair. It was uncertainty. One knew what he wanted but didn’t know how to persuade. The other knew how he wanted to take it but was holding back.

They were best friends, nothing more… right?

Billy braced himself to avoid falling onto Stu’s chest, one hand against the headboard and the other pressed against his shoulder. He couldn’t seem to glance up, not to meet those wild eyes that hid nothing, even though they were begging for his dark ones to comply. It was too risky. That’s the way he was. Once he started something, he wasn’t able to stop. A forged relationship was no different, especially with the amount of emotions involved. God, that was rough. “W-we can’t…” was all he managed to get out, his voice suddenly quiet and almost fearful of ears lurking beyond Stu’s bedroom walls, even though they were the only ones in the house.

“Says who?” came the retaliating challenge. It wasn’t strong or defensive. In fact, it was the softest Stu Macher had ever sounded in their time of knowing each other. And that was because he had finally found himself in this moment—the moment he’d been waiting for. He was fun-loving and dimwitted, but he knew how to make or break a chance. Billy was someone that he had never known before. He was like a stray dog that owned the streets, an artist before he made any art, a wild horse without any cowboy to tame him. He was reckless and rugged. He showed up, when it was least expected, and he was promised to give anyone around him plenty of trouble. That kind of person was nothing but the perfect match for Stu.

He wanted to be more than friends.

Billy tensed as he felt the older teen’s arms stretch farther around his waist, nearing the hem of his shirt. His voice steadied a little more, “My parents will kill me.”

The right half of Stu’s mouth turned up, dipping his head a little to catch his friend’s gaze. And with a gentle touch of his hand, he lifted his chin to do so. “Your parents don’t have to know,” he practically whispered.

The younger was locked in. He couldn’t look away or try to get out of the arms holding him still. His heart was beating so hard, he swore that it could be heard between the two of them. He wasn’t necessarily an anxious person, yet the feeling was strong in his stomach as his breathing began to deepen and trembled slightly. Being a teenage boy, he was often put under oath that he wasn’t scared of anything—that no matter what, he could take what he was given. How else were you supposed to survive? But this was the first time in years he could say that he felt fear. He could see Stu’s eyes jumping from his own to his lips, which made him tempted to pull away. He just wasn’t sure, so all he could think to say, if he even was thinking, was, “What?” 

Because why was he looking so calm, yet excited? So hesitant, but sure? So careless, yet longing?

And for a response, Stu kissed him. He didn’t ask before he did it, but he didn’t seem to mind, actually leaning into it. One of Stu’s hands retreated from his lower back to hold the side of his face as he tilted his head to secure his lips. 

He earned a soft moan from doing so.

A sensation of peace combed itself down Billy’s spine, easing the swirling anxiety that made him twisted in the spotlight of a decision. Now, the deed was done, only needing half of a two-person commitment to take one step closer. Surprisingly, Stu’s lips were soft as they manipulated his. Being nervous already, he knew his kiss wouldn’t come off very challenging, yet he didn’t expect that from a dare-devil, like his friend. 

Macher rotated his thumb in smooth, gentle circles along the younger’s cheek bone, casually slipping his hand beneath his shirt to run his fingers up his side. He felt him shift closer, which delighted him, and he edged his knees up higher to hold that close space. 

Loomis didn’t even realize his hand had drifted away from pressing against the older teen’s shoulder, until his fingers threaded through his hair, slightly tilting his head back. The support from Stu’s thighs had pushed him far enough to leave his knees straddling his sides, which left him taking somewhat of a dominant lead as he had to dip his head to keep the kiss strong. 

This gave Macher a sense of bravery as he stretched his arm further around his waist to have his fingertips find the frontal surface of his torso. He purred as they paused for a quick breath, then went back to it. The other foreign hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair was looped around his neck, giving him open access to move his own as he pleased. And he did as he traced his fingertips over the contoured definition of the smaller male’s abs. They weren’t heavily defined, but they were impressive.

Billy shuddered at this, but it only made him come off stronger, gripping Stu’s hair while his other hand pressured his nape. The other’s digits trailed up his ribs then found the midline of his abdomen, where he carefully retreated downward. They dipped into his navel a little when they reached it, which made an involuntary growl rumble in Loomis’s throat, and he drug the hand on Stu’s neck down his back, feeling the owner moan into his mouth.

If things started to escalate, there would be more than uncompleted homework to pay for. They had known each other for a long time now, almost swearing to know each other better than themselves. They could be called a lot of things, but tonight they were a pair of desperados. Something about this night was making them cross the line. 

They were playing with fire. Love wasn’t too far behind. It was just a matter of time…

Billy felt Stu’s hand ease down his jawline and cup the flank of his neck. He pulled back a little to catch the older’s bottom lip between his teeth and tug on it. His partener smirked and jerked a little to get free.

“You’re not feeling that nervous about this anymore, are you?” he was teased.

“Shut up,” he replied and pulled him into another kiss. And it was gladly accepted.

It was just a matter of time, for sure. There was no doubt about it.

Playing with fire was something dangerous but tempting. Especially for two frisky teens, like Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.

They were good at it. They played with fire, but they didn’t get burned.

They learned how to embrace the flames.

merry christmas billy!! i've really enjoyed being your friend, and i hope we stay friends for a while. you made me feel like it was okay to be myself on social media, and i'm very thankful for the kindness and support you've given to me. hope this isn't weird, but i love you dude 🩶 team loomis!! 🎄✨🐺

- parker (BWS)

[jonmcbrine-author]

Villains Unveiled - a nonfiction history of fiction series on Kindle Vella

https://jonmcbrine.live/2saxyfxt

[gothamslostboy]

I forgot I had Wattpad and just found it in my app library

I found a Billy x Male OC x Stu fic from 2022 I wrote and I both hate it and kinda love it

[whats-those]

So I didn’t think anyone was actually reading my posts about WABLWYWYD!, let alone anyone actually invested in the fic, but it has come to my attention that I was wrong! So here’s an update for the few who care:

First off, I am going to try my best to keep writing the fic. Due to a very nice comment from a dedicated reader, it has come to my attention that people actually care about seeing it continue. This is kind of a lot of pressure, but hopefully said pressure can translate into motivation.

Just to temper your expectations right out of the gate, there is no guarantee that I’ll finish it. As I said in the comment to that dedicated reader: The way the cycle of my hyperfixations work is brutal. As soon as I get a new one it completely overrides the old one, which has happened to me a couple times since I stopped updating WABLWYWYD!. I still love Scream and Stuilly, but I have something else that’s consuming all my thoughts these days, and of course my brain spawned a multi-chapter fic for that (though that one has even less certainty of being finished because I don’t have a plan for it). So, all this to say, once my hyperfixation for a certain piece of media goes away, it’s hard to be motivated to create content. But I AM going to try! I’m gonna rewatch Scream and try and reignite the obsession at least enough to work on the fic.

Lastly, something that doesn’t really affect the readers but something I’m writing here as a reminder to myself, I set my sights way too high for this fic. I am going to be scaling down my plans to alleviate some of the monotonous logic puzzle-ness of it all, so I can hopefully just stick to writing the fun parts (murder and gay pining).

Thanks so much for sticking around all those who are waiting for an update. I’m going to try for you!

Love ya

[slasher-fxcker]

Requests!

Wanting to request a story, headcannon or drabble? See my request information below!

Who I write for?

Jason Voorhees

Brahms Heelshire

Bo Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Billy Loomis

Billy Lenz

Michael Myers

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Thomas Hewitt

Stu Macher

(I may write for others, if you have a specific request feel free to reach out!) Please note that while our favourite beefy slashers are my main focus, I am open to doing most creepy/halloween-esque characters from a variety of fandoms.

(Can request as many characters as you like, if you don't request specific characters i'll usually do them all if it fits the request)

What I will write?

NSFW

SFW

Headcanons 

Oneshots / shorts

What I will not write?

Incest

Paedophilia

Rape (I will write dub-con)

[strangespinapple]

Hey guys! I currently have another fic in the works 😏 as well as a masterlist on the way, BUT I just opened up a suggestion box for my blog!! 🥳🎉

Please fill it out I would love to see which ideas you guys come up with. No idea is too much or too little, ALL IS WELCOMED 🤗.

(Also please lmk if it doesn’t work so I can fix it. Thank y’all 🥰.)

[konstantya]

Omg, this book reads like My Immortal, if My Immortal had been based off Philip Marlowe instead of HP.

[imagine-mokey]

A cute story of the pre Epstein Beatles. Paul is stranded at Astrid Kirchherr and Stuart Sutcliffe apartment, while John spends the night with a Bridget Bardot look alike.

Astrid pulls out her Tarot deck, and does a reading for Paul!

[dogmatik]

under a readmore bc its long and pretty boring, just a unfinished day in the life type thing with billy and stu. cannot for the Life of me find the fic that inspired stus weird dead-shit photography, but ill keep looking and link it when i do.

There’s a polaroid of a squirrel on Stus messy desk. The thing looks pretty much the same as it would any other time, except its laying on the asphalt with all its little legs spread wide. There's a smear of red next to its nose, but other than that, it looks like the little creature could hop up a tree any second. Billy picks up the picture, finding another underneath. Same squirrel, different angle, same sleeping-with-its-eyes-open look. Billy remembers when he first saw Stu’s weird photography. They’d been around 12, Stu’s parents got him a polaroid for his birthday, and he took pictures of everything. There were some of his family, friends at school, trees at the park, but there were some others too. Stu had this dumb Transformers binder full of images. There were a lot stuffed in the back pocket, and Billy has never been very concerned with the privacy of others.

Stu had come back to his room with some goldfish to find Billy in the middle of his bedroom floor, surrounded by square pictures of dead raccoons and dried up little birds. “You’re such a freak.” Billy had said, eyes trained on an especially unfortunate cat.

“Wanna do Leprechaun 2?” Billy hears Stu ask behind him, the sound of VHS boxes being shuffled. “We’ve watched that like 4 times this week.” “Still got it for a couple days.” more shuffling, Billy sets down the photograph of the squirrel and plops into the chair at Stus desk, watching the other boy rearrange his collection of tapes. “Is that Brainscan?” Stu pauses, tracks Billy's eyes. He holds up the tape. “Yeah, you wanna watch it?” “I thought that was a rental too.” “Nah, bought it. Randy came over to watch it like, fifteen times. Kid loves this movie!” Billy rolls his eyes. “He would.” Stu sets it firmly in the “No” pile, and keeps shuffling. “April Fool's?” Billy thinks for a second. “Sure, I’ll go make popcorn.” Stu starts switching tapes. “Coulda done that while I looked!” Billy doesn't acknowledge him, just heads down the stairs to Stu’s kitchen. The house is quiet, empty but for the two boys. Stu’s parents are always on some trip, or business thing, or generally anywhere but home. Stu doesn't complain much, being so used to it. Billy appreciates it, always good to have a place without somebody's parents around that isn't the mall or school. Stu’s pantry is always full, popcorn and soda and junk, what you’d expect leaving a 17 year old alone with two weeks of grocery money. Billy snags some jiffy pop, sets the stove on and wanders the kitchen. He’s been coming to the Macher’s since grade school, knows where they keep the big popcorn bowls and butter.

He knows where the knives are too, and not for the first time this week, hell not for the first time tonight he wonders what Stu’s face would look like if he came upstairs with a knife instead of snacks. He’d think he was joking, probably. Make some dumb joke about teenagers being left alone making bad choices. He wonders how fast Stu would catch on, how long it’d take for that ever-present grin to slip. Would he fight him? He’d probably try to take the knife, and he just might be able to. He hasn't wrestled Stu in years now, but he's always been bigger. Clumsy maybe, but that wingspan might just be enough to compensate. He thinks that makes it better, more exciting if there's a fight. He’s never drawn blood from a person before, even in scraps with the neighbors’ kids over who’s turn it was to do whatever they spent their afternoons doing. Or jokes about his mom he took too seriously. He’s pretty sure Stu would put up a good fight, the thought makes his pulse quick. Billy realizes he's spent too much time fantasizing about blades and chokeholds when he smells something burning. He whips around to find the popcorn billowing dark smoke, goes to grab the handle just as the fire alarm starts its shril ring. Over it he can hear “Billy?” from up stairs, followed by lots of thumping. The handle sends a white hot pain through his palm, and he has just enough time to throw it into the sink. “What the hell man!” Stu sounds angry, but mostly just looks surprised. “Get the fucking alarm will you?” Billy snaps, and even after Stu clambers onto a chair and turns the damn thing off, Billy can still hear it in his skull. He’s turned on the tap, the fire sputtering and hissing under the spray. “Why'd you burn the popcorn?” “Like I did it on purpose?” Billy leans against the counter, looks at his palm. There’s a streak of white across it, the skin turned bright pink at the edges. “You okay?” Stu asks, softer than Billy thinks he’s ever heard him. Sorta like when he’s talking in the library, but calmer. Stu’s never been able to sit still, never been able to keep quiet. Billy remembers being annoyed by it, but mostly jealous. Jealous because even when he did laugh too loud in the library, or thump into some fragile shelf, people mostly just laughed. They gave him an endeared head shake and sent him off to expend his energy elsewhere. Billy never got to let go like that, always one too many grimaces or scoffs away from being sent to detention or his fucking room.

Billy looks up, watches as Stu’s bright blue eyes shift from his face to his palm. “We should get some ice for that.” Stu pulls open the freezer, pushing aside french fries and nuggets to get to the ice packs at the bottom. “It’s fine, doesn't even hurt.” Billy says, but takes the ice pack once it's wrapped in a dish towel. “Seriously man, what gives. You been like, super spacey.” There’s a popcorn kernel on the floor, half popped, blending into the light tiles. He’s pretty sure he can smell singed skin, but maybe that's just him being morbid again. Billy’s pulled roughly from his thoughts by Stu snapping in his face “Earth to Bill!” He says, and Billy slaps his hand away “Fuck off Macher, I just forgot about it. There wasn't an actual fire, was there? I’ll open the windows and it’ll be like nothing happened”. “Man, that's not the point! You been weird all day. Not even the fun weird. You okay?”

Billy hates that. Such a stupid waste of time question. When's he ever been able to answer honestly?. People like him can't, not unless they wanna get locked up in some padded hole somewhere. “I don't know. Probably.” Billy answered, more honest than he meant. Stu looks at him like he gets it, this serious expression on his face, like the one he gets when he's real focused on landing a trick on his skateboard. Then he grins, all teeth, and turns to leave the kitchen. “I got an idea! C’mon kid!” Stu yells from the garage door, and Billy’s stunned enough to follow.

Stu’s parents are some of the few people on the planet who actually have useful junk in their garage. All power tools and fishing equipment and snow gear. Billy thinks about the rubbermaid bins in his parents shed out back, baby clothes they're never gonna touch again and tchotchkes pushed on them by a dead relative. Billy’s fiddling with a golf club when Stu emerges from further in the garage, some hard case in his hand. “Check it out! My mom got me this for Christmas. Not time yet, but what she don't know won't hurt her.”