Know That Things Are Gonna Get Better - Tumblr Posts

hi!! i'm not sure if you'd be comfortable with this, but would you be able to do something with billy loomis x reader where the reader is possibly plus sized and has old sh scars? if you're not comfortable with the last part i understand.

Billy Loomis x Reader: draw stars around my scars

Warnings: Swearing (probably), self-harm topics, self-harm scars, reader did self-harm but now is better, bad reaction at first, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE TOPICS ARE GOING TO TRIGGER YOU.

Tags: healing, reader can be read as plus size, reader has stretch marks, reader has self-harm scars, projecting heavily

Reader pronouns: Non stated.

Word count: 1122

Summary: Billy sees Reader's self harm scars for the first time, on accident.

Author’s note: hi, thank you for requesting! this was healing to write, to be honest. as someone who dealt with self-harm for very long years, all i can say is that it does get better, you have to believe for a better way out for yourself and be very focused on your goal on staying clean. no one deserves to hurt themselves, i promise. if any of you reading this is at a very bad moment, if you self-harm, please know that my inbox and dms are always open for you to rant, even if we've never ever talked before. you can send whatever you want, do it with anonimity if you want through my inbox. but please, know that you're not alone. please, you need to do your best to get help, and if you can't, you must believe in yourself.

i never got help, and i'm still here, and honestly, i thought i would have ended all of this more than two years ago. please, please, stay strong. find your passion, stick to it. i'm leaving this my chemical romance song, because they really got me through my worst times, and the lyric "I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scars. Give a cheer for all the broken. Listen here, because it's who we are." really resonated with me and made me believe there was more than hurt. i'm always here for you <3

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

Having Billy over wasn’t weird, in fact, you had grown so used to him sleeping around and staying until very late hours in your bedroom, that not having him there sometimes got lonely and awkward. You didn’t know much about the situation between his parents other than they had been fighting a lot lately, but that was enough, and you didn’t need to know more to offer a place for him to stay.

That night, you had just come out of the shower with the warm towel around your body when you heard some sounds outside your window. They were the kind of sounds stones made against wood, the kind of sounds Billy made to let you know he was outside, but you still got closer to the window to check if it was him. You saw him outside, with his denim jacket closed around his torso and his hand holding little stones he had gathered around your garden, waiting for you. When he saw you, he waved slowly and gestured to the window, for you to open it.

Making him a sign to wait, you stepped away from the window and hurried to put some clothes on before opening the window for him to climb and enter your bedroom. You settled for a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts, leaving the towel on top of your bed so you could finally let him enter.

Once you opened the window, you stepped back knowing he would climb up without any difficulty — he had really grown to master the art of climbing through your window. Billy was fast, and no longer holding the stones since you had finally realized he was outside, he appeared by your window and jumped inside with ease. 

“I’ve been outside for fifteen minutes.” He grunted as he cleaned his palms against his jeans, then pushed the rebel strands of his black hair away from his eyes.

“I was showering, I didn’t hear you.”

That made him look up, that little but still sweet smile of his appearing in his lips because God, did he like being with you — and it disappeared when his eyes landed on a particular place on your thighs, and you knew what he was looking at as soon as his eyes snapped back onto yours, something close to rage filling them up.

You had always been so careful hiding your scars. Lately, it was more because of not wanting to have difficult and awkward conversations and not because of being a constant in your life — the self-harming had stopped some time ago already, you had outgrown it, realizing that hurting yourself was something that you did not deserve. The scars were tricky to see, considering they were placed high on your thighs, and even if you wore regular shorts they were almost impossible to see, but these cotton shorts were shorter than usual. 

“Billy—”

“Tell me you’re not doing any of that shit to yourself.” He demanded, and his voice sounded as cold as ice, as hard as steel. Billy wasn’t going easy on this, and you didn’t expect less out of him.

“It was a long time ago.” You said, your voice remaining calm. It was for a few seconds, but your eyes followed him in the path to your thighs, to the scars matching the stretch marks. They were part of you now. “I’m alright now.”

The breath that Billy let out was shaky, which surprised you. He got a step closer to you, then regretted and backed away slightly. You knew his eyes were now scanning your arms, and you knew that, if he looked hard enough, he could also see the ones there — that, or you were the only one who could see the invisible traces the razor had carved into your skin in your worst moments, which was also possible. Some sights were impossible to forget.

“You are okay?” Billy asked softly, with a reason to doubt you. You had been dating him for months, being friends for years, but you still hadn’t told him — you had let him figure it out, by accident. 

You nodded. “I promise. I am. I’m clean, I’ve been clean for more than a year.”

Billy nodded slowly, almost like he wasn’t paying attention — but you knew he was. His steps were quick when he walked towards you and pulled you into a swift, loose hug, his chin resting on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms tight around him. You wished you could go back and show that moment to your past self, as a promise that everything would work out, that you deserved better. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked in a whisper, and if you didn’t know him better, you could have sworn his voice was strained with emotion. It was. “I could’ve… fuck. Don’t ever do that again, please.”

“I know, I know, it was just…” You shook your head and let yourself hug him a little bit tighter. “It was difficult, bad timing and all… I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry I wasn’t there—”

“Billy, it’s not your fault.”

Billy pulled back slightly from you, looking into your eyes in earnest. “It’s not yours either.”

You smiled softly, and caressed his cheek with tenderness written all over your face. You hadn’t loved anyone more in your whole life. “I know.” You said, nodding your head, and it was true.

Billy watched you again, carefully, from head to toe, and only closed his eyes once he convinced himself that you were alright. It wasn’t something violent to see, it was calming — his worry for you, although at first rather rough and unmoving, healed the open wounds in you that always tried to lead you back into your old ways. The sickness of the addiction had been the worst, wanting to stay clean but slumping again, and again and again, but you were better now. You should have believed when you had heard that things would get better.

In silence, Billy pointed at your bed with his head, as his hand slid into yours firmly but softly. You only nodded, and put the towel away before you two slid into your covers. His hand wrapped around your hips, and it took you a little to realize that his fingers were deftly tracing your scars around, small tickles caressing your skin.

“I’m okay.” You muttered with a little smile on your lips, looking up to him.

Billy hummed lightly, and his lips came to your forehead, kissing you tenderly. You searched for his free hand and shifted around to find a comfortable position, snuggling against him, and feeling calm for the little, incoherent drawings his fingers made into your skin.