Heyyyy

Heyyyy

Could you do Billy Loomis being a dad to his and the reader's kids?

I explained that weird but you get it lol

❝Billy Loomis as dad❞

Be part of the tag list and posting schedule - TAG LIST E SCHEDULE

★ Understanding Dangerous Situations: Billy helps his children recognize potentially dangerous situations. He encourages them to trust their instincts. Perhaps learning how to use a knife, gun and even the basics of wrestling will become frequent as they get older;

★ A Protective Father: Billy is an extremely protective father when it comes to his and the reader's children. He may have a dark past, but he will do anything to ensure the safety and happiness of his family;

★ Fun Days: Billy makes a point of spending quality time with his children. They have their own special days, where they go out for bike rides, picnics in the park or family games. He values these moments and tries to make up for any lost time;

★ Serious Conversations: when his children have difficult questions or are facing problems, after all this boy in my perception was depressed, and nothing changes that in my mind, then Billy is always willing to have serious and honest conversations with them. He believes in the importance of open communication and never wants them to feel alienated or afraid to talk to him;

★ Present Father: despite his own traumas, Billy makes a point of being present in his children's lives. He takes part in parents' meetings at school, attends sporting and musical events, and is always there to support them in their passions and interests;

★ Special Father's Day: Father's Day is an important date for Billy. He doesn't expect expensive presents, but appreciates handmade cards and special family moments. He strives to be a positive role model for his children and is determined to do his best for them;

★ Supporting you: Billy is also there for you as a partner and father. He shares parental responsibilities and strives to create a loving and stable environment for his family;

★ Horror movie tradition: Billy shares his passion for horror movies with his children. They have regular movie nights at home, where they watch classics of the genre together. These evenings are an opportunity to teach his children about the world of cinema and also to create special bonds;

★ Halloween decorations: Billy's house is famous in the neighborhood for its incredible Halloween decorations. He takes this festivity seriously and, when October arrives, the whole family gets involved in decorating the house with pumpkins, ghosts and skeletons. Billy turns his garden into a real horror movie set, but in a fun and scary way;

★ Scary Board Game Nights: Billy's family also love horror-themed board game nights. They have a collection of games like "Mansions of Madness" and "Betrayal at Baldur's Gate" that they play together on special nights. These evenings provide fun and laughter, even with the spooky atmosphere.

❝Echoes, Shadows and Resolutions❞

feel free to request any headcanon here 🠒 headcanons list ★ forgive any mistakes, English is not my native language, and this is so metaphorical, I'm not sure if you'll like or understand the meaning, but still, enjoy, my loves ♡

Amber was bombarding her phone with messages once again, probably for the hundredth time in half an hour. You had ignored her calls and messages all day long; you were hurt and needed some space for yourself. But of course, she didn't like that at all – she never did. You knew you should reply to her, provide explanations, or perhaps thousands of apologies. After all, the blame was all yours, always had been and always would be, or at least that's what she made it seem like. But dealing with her now was tiresome, like wasting words that would fall into the abyss of her mind without even being thought through and rationalized. It was like playing a soft melody in a noisy environment, where the tune gets lost in the chaotic noise – what's the point if, when carried by inertia, it loses its purpose of being appreciated? You immersed yourself in your work, desperately seeking temporary salvation, an escape from the shadows that threatened to engulf you. Each typed key was a blow against your own pain, an attempt to overpower the emotional cacophony surrounding you. Yet, even in the refuge of concentration, her memory lingered, hovering like an invisible ghost, a presence refusing to completely fade away.

The guilt, always finding shelter in the darkest corners of your heart, weighed like an anchor dragging you to the depths of the ocean of sadness. The words you should have said, the actions you should have taken, all turned into ghosts that now danced around you, whispering endless laments and questions. The pain of knowing that the disconnect between you was growing like an irreparable crack in the glass of what once was love had transformed into a silent whisper echoing within the walls of your being.

"To argue; to dispute; to quarrel; to misunderstand" – different words with similar meanings that, in a general context, describe the act of defending an opinion contrary to another, often associated with feelings of revolt. So simple, words that students occasionally encounter in the dictionary, words we frequently use when reading news or when nosy old ladies tell you about a scandal involving your neighbors while you're not at home – such simple words, words that are also actions and attitudes. When our actions are not thought through with humanity, they hurt like a silver dagger to others. Any action can become torturous, even a small one. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last, that you and Amber argued. Of course not, it was persistent, like removing a sticker from a jar or, more poetically, like the moth that dances around the light – your soul is drawn to it but also burned by the intensities of persistence. But at some point, in a split second between the narrow hands of the clock, you grew weary, how could you not?

Amber was paranoid, suspicious, perhaps confused…

She was also a star, bright and fiery, your star obscured by thick mist, clarity fading into the confusion of suspicion, leaving the mind at the mercy of shadows, but perfect, so perfect. And you were imperfect, not enough, like an unfinished painting where flawed strokes reveal the beauty of imperfection – that's why she constantly accused you of major "mistakes."

And you, being imperfect, in your tormented mind, it was more than logical that you were betraying her, even though she loved you. You didn't deserve her trust, and that's why in the darkness of the night, while tired bodies rested and melancholic minds surrendered to the flow of memories, darkness provided a space for words as sharp as a silver dagger to be thrown at you, freely and harshly piercing the labyrinth of your heart.

"I can't believe this! Do you really think you can fool me? I saw the messages, saw the evidence. You're cheating on me!"

"Amber, stop acting like everything is true. There's no cheating happening here."

"How dare you deny it? I read the words, saw the proof. You're deceiving me behind my back!"

"This is a misunderstanding, Amber. Things aren't what they seem."

"Don't give me your flimsy excuses. I never thought you were capable of this. You're a liar and a traitor."

"I'm not a traitor. I don't know how you came to this conclusion, but you're completely wrong."

"Wrong? There's no mistake here. You're cheating on me, and you thought you could get away with it."

"I'm trying to be honest here, but you're being irrational and don't want to hear the truth."

"The truth? The truth is, you're stabbing me in the back and trying to manipulate me now."

"Manipulate? You're acting impulsively and not willing to consider the possibility that there's more to this."

"I don't want to hear anything else coming from your lying mouth. You've destroyed everything."

"I won't accept this false accusation. I refuse to be vilified for something I didn't do."

"Save me from your theatrics. You're a traitor, and there's nothing you can say or do to change that."

"I won't keep trying to explain to someone who's so closed off in her distorted view. I really need time, and so do you."

"Get out! Get out of my life and never talk to me again. You're not worthy of my time."

You knew when you left for the library, walking hastily and light-footed through the damp streets, surrounded by the scent of freshly ground coffee, that she would still come after you, calling and being like a pebble in your shoe. Even as you tried to ignore and continue walking, at some point, she became painful and distressing, making you stop to remove her. As exhausting as it was, you still cared for her; after all, she was your girlfriend, your love, your golden light at the end of the day. And she loved you; think about all she had done for you. Why leave her alone and even more desperate? Yes, she said terrible things, did terrible things, she was completely unstable. But now, you had restored your peace and tranquility with the completion of your work, at least for now. So why not stop being a selfish, petty person and explain things to her? After all, it was your fault. Why didn't you listen to her? Why didn't you apologize and resolve this? Just wait an hour, wait for the hands of the clock to roll again, for your mind to sort itself out once more.

The clock of circumstances advanced with heavy steps, like a meticulous clockmaker etching marks on the fabric of time. An hour passed like a calm river, its waters carrying away the waves of indecision and doubt that filled the space between you and Amber. The echo of your thoughts resonated within the walls of your mind, like a chorus of restless voices.

Then, like a lone star twinkling in the darkness of the night sky, you felt the urgency to try once more. The phone became a magical artifact, a portal to a realm of possibilities. With trembling fingers, as if tracing a seal that could unlock the doors to the depths of the unknown, you dialed the numbers.

And then, the waiting ended. The sound of the ringing phone echoed like a call through the mists of uncertainty. Each ring was like a drumbeat in time with your anxiety, a prelude to the imminent encounter with destiny. The tension in the air was palpable, like a thread of electricity connecting

you and Amber, each vibration amplifying the anticipation that filled the room.

Finally, her voice emerged from the other end of the line, like an echo from a hidden place deep within the forest. It was a sound that carried with it shared memories, the good and the bad moments that now seemed to teeter on the balance of uncertainty. Her words were a distant echo resonating in the cavern of your emotions, creating a painfully beautiful symphony.

"Amber," you said. "I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"Yeah, right," she said. "You're just sorry you got caught."

"No, I'm serious," you said. "I just needed some time to think."

"Well, you had your time," she said. "Now come back home."

In the twilight of reconciliation, like two stars emerging from the veil of night, you and Amber finally agreed to return to the abode of tranquility. Home became a symbol of refuge, an oasis where emotional storms could rest and calm down. It was as if you were about to embark on a journey of self-discovery, exploring the hidden caves of the human heart.

The hours slid by like sand flowing through an hourglass, each moment a grain of possibility. The conversation that unfolded was a symphony of words and silences, like an intricate dance of intertwining souls. The unspoken words were like rays of sunlight filtering through the cracks in the curtains, revealing truths that had been hidden in the shadows.

Apologies were like keys that unlocked the doors to your hearts, releasing the guilt and anguish that had accumulated. Each word of remorse was a raindrop falling onto the dry soil of the relationship, nurturing the seed of mutual understanding. You were like lost travelers who had finally found their way back home, guided by the beacon of reconciliation.

The promise to improve communication was like a gentle breeze sweeping through the dry leaves of autumn, carrying away the remnants of the past and preparing the ground for new growth. It was like a sacred vow etched in the stars, to be more truthful with yourselves and each other. You were mapping emotional territories, where vulnerability and authenticity would be the compasses guiding you.

It wasn't an easy journey, but you and Amber navigated the treacherous waters of resolution. The road to reconciliation was strewn with sharp stones and treacherous currents, but you moved forward hand in hand, like fearless adventurers exploring the depths of the human heart. The winds of change whispered promises of renewal, yet also warned of the fragility of the achieved balance.

And yet, even as the anchors of harmony were being secured, there was a shadow, a dark cloud of uncertainty on the horizon. You felt it, like an unwavering clock, reminding you that the path to redemption was paved with unexpected challenges. The past "mistakes" were not isolated incidents; they were question marks lingering above you, waiting for the right moment to trigger a new cycle of turmoil.

Thus, even as the light of reconciliation shone, you couldn't ignore the shadows dancing in the corners of the future. It was as if reconciliation itself were a fragile shell, surrounded by the tumultuous ocean of uncertain destiny. The commitment to be more honest with each other was there, but you knew that the challenge of keeping that promise would be an ongoing battle against the tides of time and circumstances.

solidão

não é sobre estar sozinho é sobre não pertencer a lugar nenhum (nem a si mesmo). a.

mas eu ainda acredito que a parte mais triste foi ter que abrir mão do amor porque não era recíproco.

céu de júpiter em: tudo que eu poderia te dizer, mas você jamais entenderia.

3.1.24 - writing resources for the new year

isn't lovely to feel like you have the opportunity to start fresh again? here are some fo the resources I'm using going into the new year!

flocus is a pomodoro app with pretty backgrounds, availability to be customized, and it also tracks your productivity streaks, which is definitely a motivational booster

in addition to this, flocus' newsletter, the flow, is a weekly email on how to be more productive! it's one of the things I like to tuck away in my inbox and read.

calmly is a blank page. all you need to do is bring the words.

medium doesn't necessarily focus on creative writing, but it's an interesting place to find similarly interested people and all kinds of articles

characterhub is a website community that promotes interaction among OCs (and is great for artists also!)

poetry foundation has an enormous collection of writing that's great to read for fun, or inspiration, or if you're in a slump

and not necessarily writing related, but here are other things that I've been trying out:

via li's youtube channel. something about it radiates warmth and I listen to her videos like podcasts.

baking! it's so comforting and I love seeing the results. smitten kitchen has the best recipes.

also knitting. not necessarily specific sites, but I have these ideas of all the things I want to make.

and that's all for now. however I did up my wordcount! I hit 15k today, so hopefully by next monday I'll have everything I need done. I'm working on deadlines for the first time for a project, and I can definitely feel the pressure.

tag any other websites below and I'll be sure to reblog them!

k.

todo mundo vai embora. as vezes é o que eu penso depois que você se foi. e talvez eu não encontre, de imediato, uma resposta. talvez a tentativa seja uma maneira de autoengano. talvez as partidas sejam necessárias para o nosso amadurecimento. mas a verdade é que todo mundo vai embora, não importa se a mesa esta posta ou não. não importa se o abraço aquece ou a presença conforta. todos sempre vão embora. e não importa se a distancia é curta ou longa, ou se os dois ainda sentem o mesmo. não importa se as memorias são boas ou ruins. ou se você prometeu que iria ficar…. todo mundo vai embora, contudo, há quem ainda volte nem que seja para pedir perdão, reestabelecer laços, falar das memórias ou apenas contar histórias, mas também há quem vai embora para sempre. você já foi embora. eles já foram embora. a questão é se o “para sempre” não existe por que insistimos em tentar? céu de júpiter e poetologia em: tudo mundo vai embora