Is It Just Me That Sees Eddie As An "awkward But Flirty Guy"?

Is it just me that sees Eddie as an "awkward but flirty guy"?

For example I see it like, venom is very flirtatious and Eddie is too but when Eddie says something flirty then V comes back with something and Eddie is like: wh- but- i- ahh o-ok.

Example:

*Venom red*

"And after this there is a huge ass explosion!"

"Emphasis on huge ass V😏"

"I may have a huge ass Eddie, but that's not the only thing that's huge😏😏"

"I uh- wait- uh- i-i well- um- s-shut up parasite!"

🥲❤

But like ahfurjhrg-

YES.

2023

1. BECOME 50% MORE GOTH

2. HANG OUT WITH FREAKS

3. ABANDON THE FEAR OF LOOKING STUPID

I was thinking about this yesterday while playing "y0ur b0yfriend"

lovesick/obsession writing prompts🌹💌

Trigger Warning!!!! Mentions of manipulation, g0re, bl00d, etc. (Potential yandere themes)

Sorry for posting this haha 😬

dialogue prompts:

"I'll be yours, no matter what."

"How did I ever get so lucky…?"

"I'm in such pain every second we're apart."

"Thinking about you is my favorite hobby..."

"I would hurt myself much more if it meant you would take care of me."

"I need you more than I need air to breathe."

"I will love you until the day I'm dead."

"After I'm done with you, your thoughts will be plagued by me."

"You deserve the entire world's attention!!"

"I've completely dedicated myself to you, why can't you do the same?"

"I actually went to see you last night… you didn't notice, but you looked so cute!"

"I don't want to hurt you, honey."

"If they ever become a problem, let me know. Okay, love?"

"The emotions you make me feel are too special, we must be destiny."

"The next time they touch you, I'll cut their wretched limbs off."

"I want to tell you how much I love you until my throat starts bleeding."

"All I want is to see that smile!"

"I would only hurt you if you really wanted me to."

"Take out all your anger on me; as long as I get your attention, I don't care!"

"I want to be yours, hold me tightly forever!"

"I'm always willing to go further with you..."

"Nobody needs to know."

"I'll gouge your eyes out myself so that the last thing you see is my face~!"

"Don't you dare leave me alone."

"Your blood looks so pretty…"

"Don't say such things about yourself, you angel-!"

"I know all there is to know about you, my love."

"I am jealous. I'm so horribly jealous."

"I will change into the person you desire… you deserve the best."

"I want to taste you, to breathe you, to be smothered by you…!"

"Please, make me bleed."

"Controlling all these emotions is just too hard."

"I can't lose this feeling, I can't lose you!"

"Isn't it romantic~?"

"Hit me. You'll feel better."

"I feel like I'm losing my mind-!"

"I can't calm down."

"My heart just won't stop p-pounding."

"I'm madly in love with you!!"

"I'm drowning in your scent…"

"Beautiful baby! So lovely, so breathtaking! Captivating! Alluring!"

etc:

Staring, watching, fantasizing

Confusion, denial, refusal

Worship, hopeless devotion, smothering

Endless praise, compliments, obsession, hyperfixation

Vulnerability, weakened senses

Choking, emotional manipulation

Decapitated body parts, explicit gore

Praise, idolization, drugging

Crying, struggling, infatuation

Stalking, hunting, trespassing

Erotomania; delusional disorder that causes a person to believe that their fate requires a certain relationship

Possessive, violent, clingy

Sobbing, begging, pleading, praying

Starving, craving, aching

Ughhh I can't wait for the next one lol

Play It Cool (Part Nine)

He decided to cook you breakfast.

Though not before staring at your sleeping face for a while.

You looked so peaceful, so content as you nuzzled into his chest. You fit so perfectly in his arms, felt so warm and soft. The little noises you made and the way you clutched him closer, murmuring his new name in your sleep, made him feel as though his heart would burst out of his chest.

He didn’t want to let you go.

But he had to, because your stomach was grumbling in your sleep. He knew you hadn’t eaten much that day, aside from the milkshake at the diner. Too busy completing course work, too busy working, too busy trying to survive another day. You weren’t afforded any time to take care of yourself.

It made him ache, thinking of how much you’ve been suffering. It made him want to cry, thinking about how unhealthy you were.

It made him hate.

Hate your boss, your teachers, your landlord, your whore of a roommate for making you push yourself like this. All those people surrounded you, all those people who supposingly cared for you and none of them even tried to help you? To relieve some of your burdens? None of them cared, despite how utterly perfect you were?

It made his blood boil. It made his hands itch with the need to grab a knife and --

You let out a pained whimper. He snapped out of his thoughts to find that he had clutched you a bit too tight to his chest.

He immediately relaxed, whispering apologies to your unconscious form, rubbing soothing circles on your back. Your face smoothed out, becoming peaceful once more, entangling your legs with his.

“Honey…”

God. He really didn’t want to get up.

But he forced himself to, gently and slowly untangling himself from your arms. You didn’t like that at all, your hands subconsciously grasping out towards him, chasing his warmth, your face set in a heartbreaking expression that made him want to get down on his knees and apologize.

He settled for kissing you. On your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, your neck. His teeth grazing your tender flesh, causing you to shiver and blush. You slumped back into the sheets, overstimulated even in your sleep.

So adorable.

Maybe you made another mess? You got so excited, so quickly. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge.

He licked his lips, his fingers trailing down your clothed body. The sheets, your clothes were still stained. Maybe before he cooked you breakfast, he should clean it up for you? He didn’t want you to wake up feeling uncomfortable after all.

He leaned over you, his eyes darting to your face every now and then to see if you’d wake up.

His tongue unfurled. Just a little taste…

Afterwards he lovingly tucked you in, running his hands through your hair one more time before heading to the kitchen.

Hopefully he had something in his fridge…

---------------------------------------------------

The moment you woke up, you felt a deep ache in your chest.

And when you sat up, and looked around at the empty room, you realized why.

He wasn’t here.

Maybe he was in the living room? Maybe he went to the bathroom? Maybe he was just outside, in the hallway?

You checked everywhere, looking through closets, checking under beds, underneath the couch. You left no stone unturned and he wasn’t there.

Did he leave me?

No, he couldn’t have. He would’ve kicked you out of the apartment if he didn’t want you here.

He could be with someone else.

No way. He was so interest in you --

Maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s humoring you because he’s sorry your such a desperate freak.

He wouldn’t do that. Honey’s too sweet, too kind and nice to do something like that to you. He wouldn’t hurt you like that.

Right?

Maybe he didn’t leave by himself.

What if someone took him?

No.

No, there’s no way someone could’ve taken him, because if they did --

What if he’s hurt?

What if he’s dying right now?

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no --

Then you saw something out of the corner of your eye. A note taped to the door.

Went out to buy breakfast! I’ll be back in thirty minutes!

Love you darling,

Honey~

The surge of pure relief you felt put you on the floor. You cradled that note to yourself like it was a teddy bear, like it was a lifeline, like it was a priceless, one-of-a-kind jewel that you lucked out into having.

He was just getting breakfast.

He didn’t leave you.

He was fine.

You freaked the fuck out over nothing. Again. Just like you did last night (or was it early morning?) when you tried to fucking tie him up in his sleep.

You carefully set the note aside before cradling your head in your hands and screaming.

Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell were you thinking?! What the fuck possessed you to do something so stupid and illegal and wrong and -- and --

He would’ve hated you. Absolutely, one hundred percent, would have wanted nothing to do with you after that. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

But if you kept him to yourself --

How? How the fuck would you have kept him to yourself? There’s no way you would’ve gotten away with it. It was totally a spur of the moment, dumbass, let’s-risk-everything-on-this-poorly-thought-out-decision fuckup! All it would take was him screaming to his neighbors and it would’ve all been over.

But if you planned it out…

If you found a better place…

If you took your time…

You hesitated.

...no. No, no, no, you were not thinking about it. It was wrong and fucked up.

The things you were feeling, the things you were doing, were already bad enough. It was insanity, it was obsessive, it was wrong. And if you crossed this line, if you went this far, then you’d be a monster.

Would that be such a bad thing?

You picked up the note, tracing the words with your finger.

Love you darling

He said he loved you. He said he loved you.

That -- that had to mean something, right? You had to be in a good spot with him, right? The relationship must’ve been going good.

So far.

So you didn’t need to kidnap him. You didn’t need to do something monstrous just to keep him.

Yet.

You rubbed the note against your palms. You could almost feel his fingers trailing across the page, his mind mapping out the words even as his pen wrote across the paper.

Fuck, maybe you should frame it? Keep it hanging up in your room so you could stare at it, forever.

Or maybe you can get it laminated. That way you could lick the page without worrying about the paper getting torn up or the ink running.

You pressed the note to your nose and sniffed. God, you could just about smell him and --

You carefully folded it and put it in your pocket. Then you slapped yourself.

God, get your shit together! Stop being such a fucking freak!

KNOCK KNOCK

You jumped, panic filling you at the thought of Honey seeing you act like such a freak. You immediately started making excuses. “I-I-I wasn’t sniffing your note Honey, I swear!”

KNOCK KNOCK

It was coming from the front door. You breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t see you.

KNOCK KNOCK

You smoothed out your clothes and tried to fix your hair. Shit, you should’ve straightened yourself out earlier! What if he was disgusted because of how much of a fucking mess you were right now?

KNOCK KNOCK

“C-coming!”

You opened the door. “H-hey! Thanks for --”

You stopped. It wasn’t Honey.

“Oh I… didn’t know Peter had guests.”

It was a woman. Young, in her twenties, just about your age. With bright red hair, freckles, red glasses, a heart shaped face, and a fairly curvy figure that all together, would’ve made you think she was cute.

If not for the huge, slashing scar across her face.

From the upper corner of her face, crossing diagonally towards her chin, going through her eye, nose, and lips. Like someone had taken a knife and tried to cut her face up, but settled for simply slashing right through. Who knows, someone might have.

“Um…”

You blinked. Oh shit, did she catch you staring? “Sorry, I --”

Then what she said registered.

Peter? Was that Honey’s real name?

Holy shit. You knew his real name!

Peter.

Peter.

Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter Peter

Fuck, that’s such a good name. Way fucking better than Honey. Would it be weird if you started calling him that?

But he really seemed to like it when you called him Honey…

“Oh, it’s fine.”

Oh, she was still talking. Shit, you shouldn’t be ruder than you already were --

“I just wanted to give him these.” She said, holding out a bag. “I left them by his door, but I don’t think he noticed.”

It was a bag of cookies.

In the shape of hearts.

And it wasn’t fucking Valentines Day. Wasn’t even close to February.

So that meant --

You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes laser focused on the cookies. On the ugly bitch that was holding them.

She was saying something but you couldn’t find it in yourself to give two fucks because it was taking everything you had not to strangle her right then and there because look at her.

Look at her.

Look at this freckled fuck.

Giving him cookies, knowing his real name, showing up at his door like a fucking hooker.

You should've known from the moment you laid eyes on her. Shouldn’t have answered that fucking door.

Fuck, what if Honey (Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter) had been here? Would she have batted her ugly, filthy eyelashes at him, pressed her flabby breasts against him, and tried to take him away?

Had she done that before?

For all you knew… she could be his ex. She could have --

touched him kissed him hugged him talked to him cradled him fucked him

The surge of rage and hatred you felt filled you so quickly and so suddenly that you had to hold the door to keep yourself steady. You could feel your vision blacking out at the edges, could feel your entire body shaking, trembling with the need to --

rip tear crush stab bash slice break hit kill kill kill kill

Because she wanted to take him from you.

Take Honey, your Peter, the love of your life, the one who made you feel, truly feel for the first time in forever. The one you feel in love with, the one who made you feel so happy, so content, the one that filled your dreams, filled your every waking moment with joy and ecstasy.

This woman -- no.

This fucking ingrate wanted to take what was --

mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine

“...seen him? I just wanted to give these to him before I got back to work.”

You snapped back to reality.

The bitch was staring at you, her ugly, scarred face showing an uncertain expression.

Your fingers flexed. You took a step forward.

I want to kill her.

You heard a door slam. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone step out of their apartment. A man, fiddling with their phone.

He glanced towards the two of you.

Fuck.

It was like you got splashed with cold water. The rage and hatred was still there, but controlled. Contained.

You had to hold it together. You had to keep your cool. Because if you hurt this woman -- if you got caught, which you absolutely would -- then he would know.

And he’d never, ever want anything to do with you again.

You tried to smile. “He’s… not here right now. Just -- just give them to me. I’ll make sure he gets them.”

Her expression fell. “Um --”

You snatched the bag from her hands. “Who are you? What was your name again?”

“Uh, I’m Lizzie Bee,” she said, pointing to herself. “I’m Peter’s landlord.”

Landlord?

Fuck, then you really couldn’t kill her. You’d be putting Honey/Peter out of a home.

“Right. I’m Y/N.” Your smile might’ve turned into a snarl, but who the fuck cared? Not you. “Peter’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” She didn’t look the slightest bit concerned. The whore. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

You resisted the urge to slam the door on her face. “Likewise.”

You watched her walk away, disappearing around the hall. You made sure to take note of where she went before slamming the door.

Without her in front of you, taunting you with her presence, you could feel your rage and hatred subsiding. The urge to kill was fading with every second you got to breathe and collect yourself.

You couldn’t kill her.

You couldn’t kill her.

It was too risky wrong. It was wrong and you knew it was wrong, because you were a normal person.

What normal person falls in love at first sight?

What normal person becomes murderously possessive over someone they’ve only met for a couple of days?

What normal person considers kidnapping the one they love?

Shut the fuck up.

Your hands trembled as you ran them through your hair. You had to make a plan. Had to figure out what to do to deal with that bitch.

You couldn’t lose him to someone else. Just the thought of it was --

no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no

please

please God don’t let anyone take him away from me please

You felt tears pricking your eyes. You swallowed back a sob, trying to ignore the ache in your chest.

You would figure something out. You had to.

But first, you needed to flush every single one of these cookies down the fucking toilet.

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