Stu Macher X Billy Loomis - Tumblr Posts
You don't understand how much I need old yaoi stuilly.
They didn't commit any murda
Wdym??/j
They're just silly gays doing silly gay things<3
I have no witty caption just Billy and Stu
Ah, yes. My favorite duo in scream
sometimes i come back to reality from my alternative universe in which i think i would be able to make billy motherfucking loomis and stu BUH-GA macher fall love with me enough to start a poly relationship, keeping me alive as their final girl with me being a-okay about the murders; and only then i realize i'm fucking delusional.
Billy Loomis x Stu Macher: The Horror of Our Love.
Words: 1266
Warnings: homophobia, strong period homophobia, internalized homophobia, use of the f slur, father beating his child, abusive household and accurcate descriptions of it. the whole story is like this and the f slur is used A LOT so please if you are triggered by this, don’t continue reading.
Summary: The world blurred before his watery eyes as he walked through the streets, a restlest, miserable soul trapped in an aching body that screamed for help. One step, another step, step — everything he could hear was the screaming of his infuriated father, all he could see was his angry red face contorted in disgust.
Author's note: OKAY SO MY SCREAM OBSESSION IS STILL STANDING, and i’ve been writing in ao3 instead of in here because i wanted to get away from my responsabilities and numerous dodge mason request. sorry, i got overwhelmed, but i’m back, and i’m bringing all of my pieces in ao3 with me. here you go. you can find the link to ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40767120 also go ahead an listen to the horror of our love by ludo, great song, very scream vibey.
Criticism is appreciated and request are open! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The world blurred before his watery eyes as he walked through the streets, a restlest, miserable soul trapped in an aching body that screamed for help. One step, another step, step — everything he could hear was the screaming of his infuriated father, all he could see was his angry red face contorted in disgust.
The cut on his lip stung, a bruise was developing strongly around his right eye, and Billy was able to feel every single hit his father had thrown at him. But what hurted the worst were the words — faggot, faggot, faggot, FAGGOT, FAGOT, FUCKING FAGOT! Billy couldn’t stop trembling, the voice of his dad still in his head, screaming that terrible word at him while kicking his ass.
His mind was fuzzy from the beating and the humiliation, and Billy hadn’t found a better option other than going to Stu’s, and he felt terribly bad about that. Him and Stu were the reason his father had found out that he was… that he liked men, and now, after being called names that he loathed, he was going back to the man that he… He had nowhere else to go, though. If Billy had stayed in his house, maybe his father would have killed him.
Billy thought he could pass out once he saw he was already close to the Macher’s house, and he blabbered under his breath, as he kept walking, for Mr. and Mrs. Macher not to be home, because he was completely sure he wouldn’t be able to climb to Stu’s window — not when his head hurt like that, not when he could barely see what he had in front of him because of the tears that he was still holding back from his eyes.
My own son! A… homo! He didn’t know how he did it, but Billy managed to make his way into the Macher’s porch and press his hand against the door bell for maybe too long, but he couldn’t care less. Billy pressed his head against the door frame, holding back a sob and biting down on his lip. He tasted his own blood, salty and warm, and when the door opened he couldn’t bring himself to look up.
“Billy!” Stu exclaimed, and by his tone, he knew he was smiling widely. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight, man, if I had… Billy?”
With a shaky breath, Billy forced his head up and locked eyes with Stu. He was barely able to hold back the tears. “Can I—?” His voice was hoarse from screaming, and he had to clear his throat. He had tried to get his father to stop. Stu looked terrified. “Can I stay here? Please.”
Stu nodded, speechless, and he slid his hand against Billy’s, to hold it carefully. Billy shook violently when he felt Stu’s touch, and when Stu was ready to move his hand away, thinking he shouldn’t have held it in the first place, Billy squeezed it for reassurance. Fucking fagot.
Although Billy knew the way, Stu guided him through the set of stairs and the hallways, taking him to his own bedroom. It wasn’t like Billy had the strength or confidence to do it by himself, anyways. Stu was extremely careful while holding his hand, and he helped Billy sit at the foot of his bed as the smaller one hissed, then scrunching down before him so they could be at the same level.
Billy’s eyes didn’t meet Stu’s, instead he was staring at the floor, spacing out, terrified, hurt. Stu’s heart ached just because of that sight. He had never imagined he would ever see Billy so hurt, and not just physically.
“What happened?” Stu’s voice was barely a whisper, a plea for him to talk to him, to open up — his father would hate him for it.
As an answer, Billy pursed his lips together, not wanting to say anything. He shouldn’t — he couldn’t. Not to Stu, not to anyone. Stu sighed softly. “Alright, babe.” Fagot. Stu got up and looked down at Billy. “Imma search for something to patch you up and some ice for those bruises, okay? You sit tight.”
Stu stared at him, wanting for a sign of confirmation that he had heard him, and he didn’t move until he caught the way Billy nodded his head, almost minimally.
Billy stood there, without moving, finding himself just a little bit calmer than he was before arriving at Stu's. Everything still hurt, of course, and now that he was sitting he identified the pain on his ribs — he knew his father hadn’t broken any, or else he wouldn’t be able to deal with the pain. It wouldn’t have been the first time he broke a rib.
Stu came back with everything he had said he was going to get and with a beer, which Billy guessed it would be to calm his nerves — a hypothesis proven when Stu took a quick sip of the can before sitting next to him in the bed, the items he will be needing displayed by his side.
“Here, hold these against your eye.” Instead of an ice pack, Stu had brought frozen peas. Billy barely registered the detail, though, because he slowly picked up both bags of peas and put one against his eye and the other one against his left side, the one that hurt the most.
Billy knew Stu was trying to be the most careful his goofiness would allow him in order to clean his wounds and scratches correctly, but it still stung every time he pressed cotton and alcohol against the open ones. He tried not to whine or complain, but he couldn’t stop from trembling from time to time. The silence was something Billy actually thanked, because he did not want to break down crying when Stu asked again what had happened.
It was also in silence the way Stu made him get up to surround the bed and lie down in it, alone until Stu joined him from the other side of the bed. His long arms wrapped around Billy with ease, and the familiarity of his scent calmed Billy’s mind as Stu pulled him closer to his body, to shield him from the world and anything that can hurt him. Billy could have started crying, but because of the love and care in Stu’s actions.
“You’re safe now.” His voice was soft, caring, smooth. Stu’s blue eyes shone brightly when he looked down at Billy, clinging closer to him for comfort. “I’ll take care of you. You know I love you, right?”
Every single word made Billy flinch, reminding him that his father is right. He is… he… — but at the same time, all he wanted was to hide in Stu’s desk and never come out ever again. When he spoke his voice sounded all muffled, but Stu understood what he said. “My father found out.”
Stu’s smile faltered for some seconds. The idea of Hank Loomis beating his own son’s ass just because he likes a boy made him want to go absolutely batshit crazy right in the spot, but instead, Stu took a deep breath and nuzzled his nose against Billy’s forehead.
“You can stay here as long as we want.” Stu said, honesty flooding through his words. “That’d be actually great because I just rented some horror flicks, y’know.”
He didn't say anything particularly funny, but Billy laughed softly. Stu smiled against his jet black hair when he heard Billy laugh, and for some seconds, Billy felt okay. Like nothing wrong had happened, like everything would be alright.
I want Stu Macher to fuck me until i fucking pass out
hello stuilly enjoyers *feeds you*