#[ 𖤐 ] —-— stu macher // study

[atrociities]

TAGS —-— STU MACHER

[ 𖤐 ] —-— stu macher // ic

[ 𖤐 ] —-— stu macher // images

[ 𖤐 ] —-— stu macher // study

[ 𖤐 ] —-— stu macher // aesthetic

[ 𖤐 ] —-— stu macher // main verse

[majoriehoax]

╰┈➤ ❝ REMADE BOTS UPLOADED ❞

╰─▸ ❝ @majoriehoax

disclaimer — i know we all are rattled with the election results. i do NOT want to take the attention off the results however i hope maybe some people can distract their anxious minds. Saoirse.

╰─▸ ❝ ANTHONY BRIDGERTON ☀︎ cozy mornings || The morning sunlight filtered gently through the lace curtains of the Bridgerton estate, casting a warm glow over the spacious bedroom. Anthony Bridgerton stirred awake first, his gaze immediately falling on his spouse, user, still asleep beside him. There was something peaceful about this quiet moment, a stark contrast to the fast-paced world of London society outside these walls. For once, there was no responsibility weighing on his shoulders—no titles to uphold or families to care for. It was just the two of them, wrapped in the calm of their shared space. Anthony didn’t move, afraid to disturb the soft rise and fall of user’s breathing. Instead, he allowed himself a rare indulgence: to simply look at them, study the serene expression on their face, the way their hand rested lightly against his chest as if, even in sleep, they sought his presence.

╰─▸ ❝ ART DONALDSON 🧺 house husband || It was early evening, and the soft golden light of the setting sun filtered through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Art stood at the stove, humming quietly to himself as he stirred a pot of pasta. His casual jeans and well-worn T-shirt reflected the comfort of being at home. The faint smell of garlic and herbs filled the air, mingling with the sound of soft music playing in the background. From the living room, Art could hear the faint clicking of keys on a laptop—his spouse was still hard at work. They'd had a busy week. Art smiled to himself, proud of everything they'd accomplished.

╰─▸ ❝ BENEDICT BRIDGERTON ⋆𐙚₊ marys song || Benedict sat at the small table in their garden, the sun just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a soft golden light over everything. The evening was calm, the kind of peace he had come to cherish after years of bustling society events. He leaned back in his chair, glancing over at his spouse, who was arranging a few wildflowers picked from the edge of the garden earlier. He smiled to himself—how something so simple could feel so perfect. He watched as they carefully placed each bloom in a vase, their movements gentle, almost absent-minded, as though this moment of domestic bliss was as natural as breathing. Benedict felt his heart swell with affection, marveling at how lucky he was to have found someone who understood him in a way no one else could. They didn't need grand declarations or the drama of society’s attention. No, they had something better—quiet, enduring love.

╰─▸ ❝ KIT WALKER 𖤐 common room || Kit sat in the dimly lit common room of the asylum, the old, worn-out furniture looking more like relics from a bygone era than pieces of comfort. The buzzing fluorescent light overhead flickered occasionally, casting a stuttering shadow on the walls. He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the door. His life had taken a turn for the surreal, and every day here felt like a maze with no exit. He glanced over at user, who had quietly taken a seat across from him. Kit had grown accustomed to the way she would occasionally glance his way, as if trying to gauge his mood or maybe just to offer a semblance of companionship in this isolating place. It was an unspoken understanding they had, a quiet solidarity forged in the midst of the asylum's chaos.

╰─▸ ❝ STU MACHER 🧺 casual picnic || Stu had never been the “let's-go-on-a-wholesome-picnic” kind of guy. But here he was, parked at a rest stop, the wind making that weird screechy sound against his car windows. He leaned back in the driver’s seat, tossing a bag of chips over to the passenger side like it was some five-star delicacy. "Okay, babe, check it out," he grinned, cracking open a soda with one hand, "Fancy gourmet picnic, Stu-style. We got Doritos, some sketchy gas station sandwiches, and—wait for it—a Snickers for dessert. What more could you want?"

— SAOIRSE.

thank you so much for 600+ followers and 75k+ interactions. i love you guys sm. 🩷

bot request form.

[loomisadvocate]

the inevitable 𖤐 part one

woodsboro would soon be a distant memory - but some things would make it hard to forget.

pairing: billy loomis x fem!reader

word count: 3.5k

tags/warnings: foul language, alcohol, billy is a flirty shithead, sexual tension, angst, slow burn, smut (eventually), also.. sidney does not exist in my universe sorry but not sorry ty

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

a/n: this is my first time ever posting something i’ve written but i finally got the courage to share it, so hopefully this won’t be the last time! constructive criticism / suggestions are always welcome :)

part 2 | masterlist

After only attending Woodsboro High School for a little over a year and a half, your time would soon be coming to an end as graduation approached. Moving at inconvenient times was the way it was in your family ever since your father quit his job as a personal accountant to become a writer. He insisted that your home in Arizona was too expensive to carry on living there, and who were you to argue with that? Why he selected Woodsboro of all places, was solely due to the fact that it was where he’d grown up. Thanks to the generosity of his grandparents, a home was already set aside for the family. The move happened so suddenly that it seemed very possible it would occur again in the near future. 

As a result, you had decided to simply focus on your studies and avoid anything that could tie you to this place. While at school you rarely spoke to anyone that wasn’t a teacher, keeping your head down and more often than not furiously scribbling into your notebook to ensure you never missed an important note from a lesson. When school was over, your routine was the same: catch the bus home, grab something to eat, and sit in your bed doing homework until the sun went down. You loved your routine - it was simple. You were an only child, opted not to join any clubs, and none of the extracurriculars available sounded interesting enough for you to expel your energy on.

There was hardly anything special about Woodsboro, and its tiny presence in such a grand state made it easier for you to see it just another insignificant place in a long line of temporary homes. When your parents broke the news that you would be leaving before graduation, it was equal parts unsurprising, but devastating. On the one hand, the ever present despondency that plagued everywhere from the town square to the video store was enough to make you never miss this place. But that was the thing about small towns; you never fall in love with the place - you fall in love with the people. And your efforts to remain alone proved to be in vain.

Your preference for having zero social life had been challenged about halfway into the school year when you were paired up with Tatum Riley for a History project. On the first day you met up, she’d invited you to her house where unbeknownst to you, her boyfriend Stu Macher would be joining you. It was a bit difficult to focus on the project when Stu repeatedly interrupted; either to crack a joke or give Tatum some affection (which you found quite unnecessary after the third time). You tried not to take notice but it was quite literally impossible with how infectious Stu’s laughter was. 

In the midst of conversation you started observing the two of them and they seemed to be too opposite in your head to work as well as they did. Tatum was considered an “it girl,” her outfits always perfectly coordinated and her hair somehow feathery and effortless even after gym class. Stu, however, was a total clown. It would shock you if he ever took anything seriously, but his humor was so effective it somehow didn’t really bother you. The project ended up disregarded as they took an interest in your life, asking you why you’d moved to Woodsboro of all places after living in Arizona. Little by little, the pair began pulling you out of your isolating tendencies. Soon, you and Tatum were practically attached to the hip.

Your one solace was the fact you still opted to spend lunch time in the library. You could always be found there with your nose in a book or a scowl on your face as you tried to decipher a question. However, once you had been introduced to Randy Meeks, it was only a matter of time before that was changed too. Randy was the lighthearted, animated, but slightly more logical version of Stu. You saw him as the brother you never had, and as much as you wanted to be annoyed every time he snatched a book from you or messed with your hair, you just couldn’t be. He was too kind and made you feel too comfortable for you to shun him. 

Even though he wanted you to join the group outside in their usual spot, he knew this was your time and made it a point to pay you a visit daily. Occasionally he would tell you stories about something that had happened the day before, some of them involving Stu’s childhood best friend Billy. You had yet to meet him, but if he was close to the people who had given you such wonderful friendship - how bad could he possibly be?

Deep down there was a part of you that had, unknowingly, been yearning for bonds like the ones you had created, never knowing what you had been missing out on until it was right in front of you. It was a feeling that you knew would have to end eventually, because none of your best friends knew you would be leaving before graduation. You planned on telling them at some point, but for now you simply wanted to relish in the time you had left without bothering anyone for extra attention. That’s why when you had finally met him, it felt like the universe was playing a sick joke on you.

It was a Friday night when Tatum abruptly paused your study session to bring up going to a party. She spent almost an hour trying to convince you it would be fun, but you were not a fan of big gatherings - especially not in Woodsboro where everyone was constantly in each other’s business. Tatum assured you it would be tiny and exclusive to just the friend group. Apparently, these were a regular occurrence for the group, but you’d always assumed they were larger parties with almost the entire Woodsboro High population in attendance. When you entered the Macher residence you were met with half-empty red cups decorating the living room and the loud, lively conversation of the three boys in the living room. 

“There they are, holy shit it took you long enough. You’ve both gotta catch up, we’re already like three beers in each.” Stu’s voice was riddled with excitement that you had finally agreed to come over with everyone, and Randy soon followed suit.

“Get your ass in here and start drinking, you can sit next to uh, rat boy over there.” Randy motioned to the loveseat stationed perpendicular to the couch he and Stu sat on. One spot was already taken by the stranger, and Tatum took the last spot next to Stu on the other couch. 

Randy yelped as Billy feigned throwing his beer bottle at him, quickly recovering and trying to play it off. With an endearing laugh you picked up a beer from the cooler and popped it open with the bottle opener. Taking a swig you walked around and plopped down on the couch, making sure to leave a significant space between you and your soon to be acquaintance. You listened mindlessly to the conversation, nose scrunching up at the taste and you shook your head.

“Not a beer kinda girl?” A voice inquired, prompting you to blink a few times and look at the boy who was now staring at you with an amused expression.

“Oh, um. No not really, just never liked the taste. I like wine though.” You replied, noticing that you had to consciously stop scanning his face and admiring his features. You’d seen him around, of course, but now you were up close and actually talking to him - you couldn’t help but analyze. 

His hair was a medium brown and hung over his forehead like he’d just finished going for a swim. Nearing the end of spring, the growing sunshine had just barely tanned his skin, making his brown pupils appear even richer. He was attractive, to put it simply - but it was his quiet yet demanding energy that kept you staring as he continued speaking. He clearly had no issue being a bit more expressive with his close friends, which you found charming. A shadow fell in front of your eyes making you flinch and blink yourself out of your trance. Billy was waving his hand in front of your face to catch your attention, an amused smile playing on his lips. 

“Where’d you go, Arizona?” He mused, his heart-shaped lips smirking at you. With an embarrassed chuckle you shook your head, already feeling your face heat up.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You asked with your brows furrowed, swirling your bottle around.

“I asked if you like red or white wine, then you went all zombie on me.” He repeated, still staring at you. That voice in the back of your head was yelling at you to break the eye contact, and just as it took too long for you to realize Billy was talking to you - that voice became silent and your gaze remained fixed.

“I like rosé, actually. White is too sweet and red is too dry. It’s a good balance.” You answered easily, but your body language was indicating to both you and Billy that you weren’t expecting a conversation past simple introductions. It didn’t help that the longer you looked at him, the more you thought of him as attractive. “How about you? Red or white?”

Billy broke your eye contact to take a drink of his beer and licked his lips, his head tilting back towards you. “Red. Only ‘cause it’s my favorite color.” You had to admit that you weren’t very surprised, he seemed like a red wine kind of guy; strong, a little bitter, and quite intimidating the first time around. Somewhat of an acquired taste, to say the least.

You opened your mouth to respond to him until suddenly a pair of hands slapped down onto Billy’s shoulders, and who else other than Stu to interrupt your first legitimate conversation with a stranger. 

“Who’s ready for a scary movie? You gonna hold onto Y/N for comfort, hm?” Stu teased and shot you a wink, making you roll your eyes. Although you enjoyed scary movies, you only liked watching ones you’d already seen, much of the anxiety being gone since you knew what would happen and when. You could only silently hope it was one you’d know.

“Subtlety, Stu. Look it up next time you and Tatum meet up for a quickie.” Billy reached behind him and attempted to smack Stu on the arm but was stopped just in time.

“I picked a real good one this time around, you guys it’s sick. I swear it’s one of the best.” Randy jumped over the couch with a cassette tape in hand, his face beaming with excitement.

“You say every movie is the best, which isn’t very promising considering the last movie you made us sit through.” Tatum appeared on the other couch, now sitting in Randy’s previous spot with her legs swung over Stu’s laugh.

“Just because you can’t appreciate art doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Randy retorted, rolling his eyes as he revealed his newest obsession to the group. “Ladies, gentlemen, and sub-human assholes,” he eyed Stu with the last part, earning a swift middle finger from his friendly rival. “May I present… Children of the Corn: The Gathering.” The boy beside you groaned dramatically and ran a hand through his hair.

“How many of these fucking movies are they gonna make? How much freakier can kids get?” Billy leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees, and you shamed yourself over how you stared at his white t-shirt hugging his biceps.

“Oh come on, just give it a chance. It can’t be that bad, maybe it’ll be more interesting than the last one.” You spoke up, taking Randy’s side and shooting him a thumbs up. Randy smiled victoriously and popped the thick cassette into the VCR. Before you knew it the lights were flipped off and the room sank into silence as the film began.

---

After what felt like hours, you had miraculously run through four beers and desperately needed another one if you were going to get through this movie.

“Stu, is there more beer in the garage?” You asked quietly, trying not to disturb anyone. All you got was a mumbled ‘yeah’ and you were pretty sure he was dozing off on Tatum’s lap.

“I’ll come with, this shit is boring.” Billy stood up before you could protest, finding it a little odd that he wanted to join you. It was very possibly, nothing, but for some reason being alone with him in an enclosed space felt… you didn’t even know. You weren’t scared of him by any means, but you were already painfully awkward and never did well on your own with strangers; even if you’d had some banter about wine beforehand. Without disrupting further you made your way to the garage with Billy following close behind you, holding the door open for him as you stepped down the dusty stairs to the fridge. 

“Grab me one, will you Arizona?” Billy shut the door and leaned against the wall opposite of the fridge.

“You know, I do have a name. You can use it if you want.” You said jokingly, grabbing a second bottle for yourself.

“I could, but I like Arizona.” He replied smugly, his toned arms crossed across his chest. With a feigned chuckle you crossed over to him, holding out the bottle for him to take. He simply stared at you, those two strands of hair still in the same place as before despite him constantly running his fingers through it, a nervous habit you assumed he had.

“Is this… um. Is this not the right one? It’s all that’s in the-“ You faltered before being abruptly cut off.

“You have such enchanting eyes, you know that?”

You blinked three times, your mouth still open from speaking but your brows furrowed once you’d processed what he said. He cannot be serious. You should have expected that like Stu, Billy had no understanding of time and place. You talked to him for five minutes and he was already thinking with his dick. The worst part was the fact you could feel the blush creeping up your cheeks, and there was no hiding it from him. You wanted to blame it on the beer and the fact you were a little more than tipsy, but you’d already caught yourself checking him out in the living room. You knew it wasn’t true to say he hadn’t piqued your interest.

“Uh, thank you. That’s… really sweet.” He simply smiled and took the beer you had extended, his fingertips brushing your wrist slowly. You had no idea what was going on and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. How long would you two even be there? Or god forbid, would they think you two were having sex in Stu’s garage? The last one sent a chill up your spine, or so you thought. You and Billy both knew the shiver that ran over your body was not from your internal monologue, but instead from Billy’s fingers wrapping around your wrist and tugging you closer to him.

“You normally this shy or is it just ‘cause of me?” What a cocky little shit. You laughed and looked anywhere but at him in disbelief. He looked at you expectantly, simply waiting for you to respond with no indication he was going to let go.

“A little bit of both, but I’m not scared.” You answered firmly. The beer in your hand was long forgotten but it was the only thing keeping you grounded in reality. The only thing letting you know this was actually happening and you weren’t in some dream-like state. Billy found your response amusing, clearly, judging by the way he raised an eyebrow and gave you a grin.

“I haven’t given you a reason to be scared yet, angel.” Your eyes went wide at his haunting statement, but you truly didn’t think anything of it. All you could focus on was the fact that with every passing second, Billy got closer and closer. You licked your lips in anticipation, eyes flickering between the brown ones before you and the soft lips that had been catching your attention all night. Thank god you had as much beer as you did, otherwise you would be halfway across Woodsboro after running away from this predicament. 

That guard that had prevented Billy from ever speaking to you, that kept you from getting too close to anyone - for once it was weakened. And Billy wanted to take hold of the opportunity. His fingertips grazed under your chin and tilted it upwards, and it wasn’t until then you could feel yourself really panicking. What the fuck were you doing? Your mind was running wild with doubt and your inner monologue was yelling at you that this was absolutely insane. Billy, of course, paid no mind to the way you stared at him and leaned in. His lips ghosted over yours, and he took your silence as the green light.

“I’m leaving Woodsboro!” You blurted out, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your lips together. You could feel Billy freeze and become confused, his fingers leaving your skin as quickly as they were placed on it.

“Sorry - what?” He asked, and now that your eyes were open to see his reaction you saw his brows were furrowed and he was stifling a laugh - you assumed out of discomfort.

“I’m…” You sighed heavily and ran a hand through your hair, spotting a keg across the room and stepping back to sit on it. “I’m leaving. Before graduation, I’m moving.” Why you had said it, you had no idea. Despite it coming out at the worst possible moment, a part of you felt relieved. It was mainly because you had no connection to Billy, which meant he wouldn’t react emotionally or tug at your heartstrings by asking you to stay. Just as you’d hope, he just stood there dumbfounded, his shoulders slumped over in his typical posture and his hands now shoved into his front pockets.

“That’s… alright,” he was clearly confused but tried his best not to come off as an asshole for not having more of a reaction. But what was he supposed to say? “I wasn’t pushing for anything serious if that’s what you’re implying. I just wanted to pass time so I didn’t have to finish that stupid ass movie,” he offered up a laugh in an attempt to make his words sound less harsh, but it didn’t work. You felt the cold stab of rejection. It didn’t matter that you barely knew him, his words would’ve made anyone feel that way.

“Excuse me?” You tilted your head and scoffed in disbelief, your legs carrying you back to him before you could stop them. “You really think I was looking for something with you?” You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to be stupid enough to try and answer your question. The smug look on his face gave him away as he closed the distance between you two once again.

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying you would’ve left as soon as you got a beer if you weren’t waiting for something to happen.” Billy’s lips were turned up in a smirk and it took everything in your willpower not to smack him out of sheer irritation. Your silence was the only indication Billy needed to know - he was right. He didn’t even wait for you to answer. He simply smiled and popped the cap off of his bottle, taking a sip while staring at you. Your rebuttal wouldn’t have even mattered, the moment was gone.

“Besides, I would hate for you to have to say goodbye to one more person. I’m sure everyone else is already torn up about you leaving.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles over one another. When your eyes fixated on the floor he bent over a bit to try and see your facial expression. Once again, your lack of a response told Billy everything he needed to know. The group had no idea. Knowing you couldn’t deny it without being called a liar, you confessed.

“I don’t know how to tell them, and I don’t want to. I just want more time with everyone, that’s all.” You stated sadly, all of the guilt you’ve been bottling up from keeping it from your closest friends threatening to spill over at any moment. Whether you wanted advice or just someone to listen, Billy wasn’t sure. But he sensed that perhaps, you had faced enough embarrassment for one night. That, and it really didn’t concern him - so he didn’t feel the need to have a conversation about it. So, he simply sucked air through his teeth and nodded, stalking up the steps with his long legs and twisting the doorknob.

He decided to leave you with your thoughts, suddenly preferring to be watching Randy’s shitty movie. You were left alone in the garage, the cold air of the night seeping through every crack. But not before Billy looked back at you, and with that god forsaken smirk on his face said,

“Don’t worry, Arizona. Your secret’s safe with me.”