Animated Old OC, Finally I Did It X)

Animated old OC, finally I did it x)

aaaaaaah

"do you hate me ?" "No" he said. "why ?" he soflty smiled and responded "why would I ?" "you're lying" and that was it.

With these last words, i decided to break up with him. Why ? I don't even fucking know but god how i fucking hate myself for it. But he was gonna leave me one day, i juste... Kind of made it happen quicker. Yeah, i'm an asshole. But i'm the one crying right now, he's probably living his best life, now. Without me. I always thought i was the kind of people who preferred to be alone, or at least, i always forced myself to believe that.

I'm not really... Pretty. In fact, i have nothing for myself. I'm quite stupid and not funny. But hey, that's alright. If someone like him could have loved me, I may not be as dumb as I thought I was. Well, if he really loved me in the first place.

I do not have friends, i do not go out like others peoples do. I'm just... Here. Staying all alone by myself. But that's okay, i'm not feeling anything anymore. So hey, i'm cool. Well, i think i'd be if i could.

Tomorrow, i'll have to go in class. I'll see him. I just know it. Since our breakup, i did not went back to school. It's been two months now. Aha, i'm so fucking dumb, so so so fucking pitiful. I'll probably won't even graduate this year. But that's alright, I've already disappointed my parents, they won't be surprised.

Despite the fact that I left him, i think that if i see him with somebody else, my body will not support it. I'll probably die right away before his eyes. But that's alright, he won't have to deal with me anymore in the future.

I miss him, really really much.

Toxic Ethan Landry as a bf

Can I Request As Ethan Landry As A Bf? Thanks!

bro why is he so pretty. i could stare at this gif for hours

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

Thanks for all the request you've been sending me! I'm working on them don't worry.

TW/CW: ghostface Ethan, murder, manipulation, stalking, voyeurism, obsession, sickness, throwing up, food poisoning

I hope that's what you wanted. I have difficulties with headcanon because I feel they're all the same? I don't know how to explain but it's hard to find new ideas that no ones ever mentionned before. Still, i liked writing this. (27/07/2023) (2 232 words)

Toxic Ethan Landry who has access to all your private life on your phone. It's his morning journal at this point, he just kinda read what you liked, retweeted or sent.

He'll spend minutes filtering the accounts you follow to see if you started following someone he doesn't know. Or if someone followed you, which is worse in his opinion. Most of the time, it's porn account with big tits but Ethan still doesn't like it because he's scared you'll fall in love with them. (he knows they're fake accounts, he doesn't care)

Toxic Ethan Landry who already thought about sending you a dick pic to see what your reaction would be. (he never did it, he probably never will either)

Toxic Ethan Landry who made multiple fake accounts to dm you on different social media to test your loyalty. And you, on the other hand, tell him how you're confused because you usually don't get any dm?? And suddenly you get plenty ? You don't even have a profile picture on some social media and you still get dm?

"The world finally understands how pretty you are!" he tells you. But it's him, him and only him. He blocks every guy he deems too pretty so you never see them. So you never get tempted to leave him.

He's happy you don't answer to any of his dm and sad because that also mean you don't answer him.... He's confused.

Toxic Ethan Landry who made a 'fan account' of you just to see how you'd react to someone with as much devotion, to test the water. You have no idea it's him and when you learn about it, you're a little creeped out because what the fuck ? A stranger did that ? And it's just picture of you in your classes from different point of view. You looking at the board, you writing, you dozing off.

Of course your boyfriend would help you file a complaint. He goes to the police station with you, supporting you. And, oh, detective Bailey is in charge of your case ! He's so nice with you, asking you to calmly explain him the situation and he even lets your boyfriend stays in the room with you. You don't understand why a detective and not a normal cop is taking your complaint but you're happy someone is simply even taking it.

And when you go back home hands in hands with your boyfriend, you feel a little better because you have hope you're protected. And your tension lessen thanks to Bailey who didn't judge you and stayed patient.

"I'm happy you like him, love." Ethan tells you fondly and you don't quite understand but you just think he's happy you feel at ease.

While Ethan is just really fucking happy he finally introduced you to his family and is delighted you like his father.

Toxic Ethan Landry who saw the text Mindy sent you. Because he reads every one, and especially those you send Mindy, of your messages. She was trying to prove you Ethan was Ghostface, she didn't have any proofs, he knew that. But you've been friends with her longer than you've been with him, she had that advantage in which you'd trust her if she was convincing enough.

And she was reminding you about how weirds things keeps happening to you ever since he's in your life. Some of your friend's contacts in your phone have been deleted, you lose your keys at least once every week just the day where your roomate isn't here and you have to go sleep at his place instead, he keeps giving his opinion on things that are directed to you. It's not even big things, it's Tara asking you if you saw one certain film and if you want to go see it and Ethan's all like "I heard this movie wasn't really good! Don't worth seeing it." And Mindy always snaps at him because "damn, nobody asked you?"

And that, right now, is why her fucking girlfriend fucking died.

Mindy keeps insisting that he's weird, that sometimes you can't make it to your friend's parties because he's all clung to you and keep begging you to stay. Or she mentions how you told her you felt bad because you always lose your homework and you often end up copying on your boyfriend. Her main argument is that he's using "passive control" over you.

"Never trust the love interest" she'd repeat. "you won't dare leave him because he's making it look like he's nice and you'll feel bad for leaving him when he's a literal demon"

And Ethan starts to freak out because you genuinely start to see everything she highlights. But he still has times, because he knows you love him. You're simply starting to have questions.

Questions Ethan can't answer.

Toxic Ethan Landry who know you want to have a good, serious conversation with him. He knows you'll ask him about the deleted numbers, he knows you'll ask him about the lost homework, or simply all the things you lost in general. And you lost damn lot of things because of him.

And each time you come back home, ready to talk, Ethan's already here. You guess your roomate let him in. He's always doing a chore before you, doing laundry, cooking, vacuuming or sometimes he just sleeps (well, he makes it look like he does anyway). And you always feel bad for wanting to talk to him when he's so nice to you.

Because he doesn't have to clean your home, it's yours, not his. But he still does it. Because he's your perfect boyfriend.

"Ethan, I wanted to... you say, setting your bag on the nearest table. You have to talk to him, it's been haunting you for days ! He looks at you, eyes bright. He came back from his classes two hours ago and he's cleaning your windows. The floor, you noticed, has been vacuumed and mopped. He only wears a shirt and a boxer, because he knows it alters your concentration and just eases your anger in general when you see his ass. Even more when he's doing chores, he looks like he's your husband. -Yes sweetheart ? Something bothering you?" with a bright smile as he's always happy to see you get back home, and he knows he won again because you change subject.

Toxic Ethan Landry who, strangely enough, never argues with you. Because somehow, he's always agreeing with you. Or, at the end of the day, you changed your mind.

"I want to take somes vacation", you'd say. And Ethan despises your idea because that mean you'll leave him alone for some time. But he won't tell you, because he's your perfect boyfriend.

"Yes, that's a good idea. You deserve a break."

But suddenly, you can't go because your roomate announces you that they won a prize on internet on a contest they don't even remember participing in. And they won a ticket for a trip to another country. So you can't leave because you'd leave the apartment empty, something you can't do in such a big city like yours. So now you have to wait before leaving.

So you announce the new to Ethan, a few hours later. He already knows it, of course. He's the one sending the damn ticket and he's the one putting a mic in your phone.

But you look so sad when you can't go on vacations so Ethan reassures you, telling you that as soon as your roomate comes back, both of you'll leave on vacations for a week, just the both of you. And you want to leave so badly that the idea of Ethan bringing you in another country is making you dream so you agree.

Or when you're on the verge of leaving because Ethan couldn't prevent you to do so sooner, bad news are thrown at you. You're trying to do one last laundry to put one or two clothes more in your baggage when the washing machine stops working. Then the fridge is acting weird, the TV is disconnected and if everything does not prevent you of leaving, you're being robbed while you're out.

Now, you just can't leave. That'd be too dangerous to leave your apartment (your roomate!) alone, even for a week, especially for a week.

You're angry, of course. Insulting whoever decided to break into your house and Ethan supports you throught it all. You're telling him how it's always hard to leave a few days because you have the strange impression the fate against you. And maybe you're right.

Ethan is happy because that mean he gets to sleep at your place more often, 'just in case someone try to break in again'.

Toxic Ethan Landry, who, hates when you go to parties. You always offer him to come with you but he refuses. He hates parties because everyone is always drunk out of their minds and they're just all semi-naked and he hates the thought of you seeing someone else's body.

He does come, of course. He wouldn't think of leaving you alone.

Well, Ethan Landry doesn't come, Ghostface does. He's anrgy enough of thinking you'd leave him alone while you're out with your friends to kill whoever is on the way. He's mad at you, but he can't be for long. He grabs the first fucker aside form the group he sees and plunges his knife in him withtout waiting. All he needed was a witness to run away telling everyone what happened, so you'd have to leave the party.

And that's what happens. Everyone runs everywhere, they're pushing each other yelling, and he hopes no one hurt you because other wise the night will be much longer than expected. He already hid his costume in the bag in his car by now. He searches for you and eventually, he finds you.

You're with your friends, you don't understand what's happening but you're leaving too. It warms his heart seeing you here. It's as if you're seeking refuge in his presence. So he endulges you and joins you, your friends recognize him so they just let you go. You're drunk. He knew you'd be as you don't go out much, so when you do, you completly let go. He still doesn't like it but it eases him the work. He won't have to explain why he's already here when you haven't even called him.

After that, everything is back to normal. You're both in pajamas, cuddling in bed. You're fast asleep and Ethan loves it. And when you wake up the next morning, he simply tells you that your friends called him to come pick you up. That he doesn't know what happened but he's happy you're safe.

Toxic Ethan Landry who, when thinks you start to avoid him just a little too much, is pissed the fuck off, and is obligated to poison your food. Because your stupid little friend Mindy is always in your fucking business when she should be crying the death of her fucking girlfriend and leave you both alone. And she's telling you that Ghostface attacked again, that your boyfriend's behaviour is just too weird and Ethan doesn't realize it but he fully death glare her when she talks now. Because you always defended him until now, he thought he was safe.

But you start having doubts.

And if it wasn't for his damn family's plan Mindy would be long gone by now. Because she just loves ruining your life, right ? But he'll talk about her to his dad later, because you're calling him. For the first time in three days. Three only (or three too much) because he didn't last long being ignored by you and he decided to act.

Food poisoning, a classic he must say. But it works. He's already packing his bag to come see you when he answers your call.

"Hi Ethan, I didn't want to bother you but do you have medicine? He hates that you didn't want to bother him, because before you'd have called him because of a headache or because you're hungry. He knows by now, your stomach hurt like hell and you probably threw up once or twice. He's sorry but it was the only option. "Aw, you're sick baby ? I'm coming. you can hear him move in the other side of the phone, you're assuming he's putting some clothes on. Did you eat ? I bet you didn't. I'll find you something to eat, okay ? Try to sleep, love. I won't be long."

When he arrives a few minutes later, he feeds you, gives you medicine and ensures your fever doesn't increase. He doesn't like seeing you in pain. But he's glad you called him. Because you were distancing yourself from him. And you know damn well you just can't do that.

And he hates to think like that but somehow, you deserved it. Because you should trust him and not her. Because he's your perfect boyfriend who'd never do harm. Because he's the love of your life.

But it'll taught you how you can't live without him. He thinks he'll have to change plan now. It seems being too nice makes you think he's weak.

But he's everything but weak, especially when you're concerned.

Me and My Husband

✤ summary: [Calvin & reader] It seemed like every fibre of your being was written just for Calvin.

✤ word count: 1.4k

I recommend listening to Me and My Husband, or any Mitski songs, while reading this! This is a bit different from my usual fics, so please lmk what you think. <3

𝄥𝄞────────── 𝄇

❝I steal a few breaths from the world for a minute and then I’ll be nothing forever, and all of my memories, and all of the things I have seen with my eyes, with my body, with me.❞

Calvin was the ideal lover. He always swept you off your feet, making you feel like the most important person in the world. It was like you were written to be right for each other. Star crossed lovers. Inseparable.

Here and there, he mentioned his previous relationship. A girl named Ruby Sparks. Whenever she was bought up, Calvin spoke about her with a deep loving, it was evident from the look in his eyes that he still longed for her. His eyes would shine with a kind of passion he never showed for you.

❝But me and my husband, we are doing better.❞

You couldn’t remember exactly how you and Calvin met. The memory was hazy, like a dream you can’t quite recall. You asked him about it and he always blew it off.

“It doesn’t matter how we met, what’s important is we’re together now.”

Even constantly being in Calvin’s presence, you were lonely. No friends. No family. There was no one else you could hang out with other than Calvin. Your isolation was nothing but a “temporary issue”, as Calvin called it, but temporary had been months, bordering on years.

❝It’s always been just him and me together.❞

It didn’t help that Calvin locked himself away in his office. Though he hated being called it, he truly was a genius. His style of writing was lyrical and poetic. The words would dance across the page as you read them. Calvin’s novels would become classics, you were sure of it.

You celebrated every achievement together. The two of you were always going to countless award shows, book signings and parties. He encouraged you to try make friends at the party, but everyone there was so different to you. Previously, you loved parties but one day, you didn’t. It was if someone had rewritten your code, changing your programming and you’re very being. Now it felt like everyone at those parties were complete strangers. Strangers who led successful lives. You couldn’t relate to them any less. You had nothing to your name. Calvin had everything.

❝So I bet on that furrowed brow and at least in this lifetime, we’re sticking together. Me and my husband, we’re sticking together❞

It was late at night, Calvin has spent all evening writing, hurled up in his office and practically ignoring your existence. He kissed your cheek before he went to bed but you couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning, every position you laid in felt uncomfortable. The lights on the clock flickered. 3:08am, the read numbers read. You glanced over to Calvin, who laid peacefully at your side. You knew things had been hard for him. Writing was no easy task and you felt guilty about taking that time away from him. You softly kissed his forehead and got out of bed, quietly tiptoeing through the hall to his office.

The harsh brightness burnt when you flicked the light on. His office was fairly tidy except for the occasional empty coffee mug left around. Calvin always forgot to put them away which left coffee stains on all the furniture. You made a mental note to clean them in the morning. With a yawn, you sat down in Calvin’s office chair. He didn’t let you read what he was currently working on. That was the case with most writers though, so you never took it personally but you couldn’t help your curiosity.

You hesitated whether you should read the pages or not. It was Calvin’s private work but the curiosity itched at your skin. You sighed and grabbed them, beginning to skim over the first few pages and immediately you felt deja vu. In front of you, laid out in crisp black ink, was your entire life. Every word, every letter. It was your life. Had Calvin been writing about you? You knew he did the same about Ruby, maybe it was just a habit he had with all his partners. As the pages flicked by, his writing changed. His previously lyrical writings changed into short, blunt sentances.

“[__] doesn’t hang out with anyone other than Calvin. He is their only friend.”

You felt sick. Yours hands shook as you continued turning the pages. All your little habits which had came and gone were all laid out in front of you. Your personality changes and actions, even the smallest things had all been recorded. You shuffled the pages back in order and placed them back down on his desk in the exact spot.

❝ And I am the idiot with a painted face. ❞

You ripped open the draws, going through them in search for some kind of answer. Tucked away, was a black leather journal. You peeked up at the door to make sure Calvin wasn’t watching you. You began to read the journal. Day by day, your entire relationship with Calvin had been written down and analyzed by him.

“Tuesday, May 16th,

Tonight is the 6 month anniversary of my second novel’s release. The publisher is holding another party and inviting everyone. I know I said I would stop, but I wrote about them again. Ruby was supposed to be a one of phenomenon. So when I thought up another person and they appeared all the same, I couldn’t just get rid of them. It’s not the same as with Ruby. I’ve learnt since then. I’m not completely altering their personality but I did change something small today. [__] used to love parties. It was exhausting. So now they’ll just stand in the corner. Have I done the right thing? It would just make me feel more at peace if they weren’t chatting to other men. They found it again last night. Once again they were snooping around my office and found the pages. I wrote that they forgot it an everything is back to normal. This keeps happening. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up for.”

❝ In the corner taking up space.❞

Silently, you put the journal back. You couldn’t bare to read any more. What did he mean you had found out before? Surely, you would’ve remembered it. You didn’t know what he was doing but whatever it was, he did it to Ruby and now he was doing it to you too. You felt numb as you returned to bed. Calvin woke up when you laid down.

“Where did you go?” his voice was hoarse.

“Bathroom,” you whispered and he went back to sleep.

You didn’t sleep that night. In the morning, it was difficult to pretend that everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. Calvin had betrayed you. Anxiety bubbled up in your chest as he went about his day completely normally. He went upstairs while you distracted yourself with breakfast.

Calvin sat down with a sigh, moving the empty mugs off his desk and onto the shelf. He played around with the typewriter, fixing the paper and giving the keys a few test clicks. The crunching of paper under the chairs wheels grabbed his attention. He leant down and picked up the crumbled page. The black text read:

“[__] hates parties. They don’t relate to the kind of people that go to them.”

Calvin instantly knew you had been in here. Frantically, he crumpled the paper and slammed his fingers against the keys as he began typing. When you heard the familiar echo of the typewriter you ran upstairs, about to scream at Calvin that you knew. You knew everything. He was writing about you and lying to your face about it.

But as you stepped into the door, your mind blanked. Whatever had been worrying you floated away. You stared at Calvin in confusion.

❝ But when he walks in,❞

“Why was I coming up here?”

Calvin shrugged with a smile. You let out a chuckle and walked over to him, giving him a forehead kiss. He pulled you onto his lap, squeezing you tightly and making you giggle.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“I love you too,” you responded, getting up off his lap. “You need to stop leaving mugs in here.” You took the dirty dishes downstairs and left Calvin alone in his office.

❝ I am loved. I am loved.❞

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vitzi9

1 year ago

I hate family gathering so much

1 note View Post

vitzi9

2 years ago

130K notes View Post

vitzi9

2 months ago

Okay hear me out, Eddie nervous on your first valentines day together wanting to make it special and only knowing how to valentines from what he's seen at school and he panics and is very eddie about the whole thing 👀

please my heart almost couldn't take this. i swore nothing over 1k but nervous and panicking eddie being all cute?? yeah i couldn't help myself. this isn't edited, sorry in advance. no warnings, just fluff.

wc: 2.2k

Okay Hear Me Out, Eddie Nervous On Your First Valentines Day Together Wanting To Make It Special And

He feels stupid.

It's the only thought ringing through his head as he sits at the Munson's dining table, scraps of construction paper strewn over the worn wood, glue stick drying out to the side and scissors digging into his knuckles.

It had started as a prophetic vision after a few hits from his blunt; it was quickly souring into the most ridiculous thing he’s ever done.

The high had worn off, Eddie had glued his fingers together thrice now (seriously, how was this glue stick approved for children?), and the end product…. Well, he hated it.

The card was tacky. The flowers were uneven. He didn’t even have the willpower nor time to make a full bouquet as he had originally wanted to while under the influence. Pink glitter was now overtaking the trailer, and he’s never seen his uncle look so damn entertained.

“Boy, what on God’s green Earth are you going?”

Normally, the twang of Wayne’s accent would be comforting. But right now, all Eddie could hear was held back laughter choking up his old man’s throat, and a glint in his eye that felt a lot like a taunt, and he felt the farthest from comforted in a very long time.

“Mind your business, old man,” Eddie grumbles, tongue sticking out as he tries to reglue a corner of a paper heart he had cut out, needing it to stick down properly. He probably should have purchased glue, in hindsight.

“Where did you get all this paper?”

“I said mind your business.”

“Is that pink glitter?”

“Don’t you have work?” Eddie huffs, grabbing at the Valentine card he was attempting to salvage, cheeks blushing more vibrant than any of the arts and crafts supplies spread about.

He didn’t want to admit how embarrassed he was. He didn’t want to give anyone else the satisfaction. It was his own damn fault, really – he had offered for your nightly diner dates to be on him one too many times this last month, and entirely forgotten to put away any extra cash to get you a proper Valentine. And this was his last resort.

He’d tried to convince the local florist to discount the flowers missing one too many petals for him, he’d tried to scope out the cheapest cards available at Melvald’s. He’d begged and bartered with every option in town to simply get you something for the day of love, and in the end, he’d simply fallen short.

So now, all he had was a palm full of gritty glitter and homemade items that looked worse for wear.

One of the kinder ladies that lived two trailers down had been happy to offer Eddie some of her scrapbooking papers, throwing in the glitter for good measure, and he still had an old glue stick from when he’d built one of his custom tabletop maps for a D&D campaign. With five hours and a dream, he was now the not-so-proud creator of three handmade paper roses, and a card hardly large enough to fit in his palm.

When he took a step back to look at it all, Wayne was right to be snickering on the couch over it all.

“They’re going to hate it,” Eddie laments, glaring down at his creations, “They’re going to hate it, and I’m going to get dumped on our first Valentine’s day together.”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, son,” Wayne tries to genuinely comfort Eddie now, leaning forward to get a better look at his last five hours of work, “I’m sure they’re gon’ be happy that you just thought of the-”

“My life is over,” Eddie interrupts, walking over to the couch to collapse dramatically.

Wayne stops him, however, throwing up a hand, “Nope. You’re not gettin’ that damn pink glitter all over my couch. Go mope in your room.”

After a brief stare-off, a whole ten seconds wasted when Eddie could be wallowing in his self-pity, Eddie does exactly that.

He hopes Wayne is right, for all their sakes. There’ll be bigger things to worry about than just glitter if you really do hate Eddie’s attempt at a sincere Valentine.

—

It takes nearly a full minute of knocking on the Munson’s trailer’s front door before Eddie opens it for you – that’s your first sign that something is terribly wrong.

Your next sign is when Eddie hardly adds any enthusiasm into your welcome kiss, so reserved, as though he might be in a constant state of cringing; a constant state of preparing for the worst.

“Is something the matter?” you ask innocently enough, toeing off your shoes and shifting your bag in hand. You’d picked up a few movies for the night, a variety of cheesy rom-coms Eddie expressed a slightest bit of interest in along with a few more up his alley. A horror film that neither of you had seen that looked to have a budget of $10 and a dream, and Labyrinth.

The latter, you’d both already seen. Neither of you would pass up seeing David Bowie in his full glory, though.

“It’s fine,” Eddie huffs out, still refusing to meet your gaze, “Want me to put on some popcorn?”

You can’t help but light up as you follow him in his rush to the kitchen, “God – yes, please. I also got some sour patch kids, your favorite, and-”

You cut off when you catch sight of the dining room table.

Eddie doesn’t glance back as he reaches up to the cabinet holding the stash of popcorn he keeps around for your movie nights, “And?”

“Eddie…” you slowly draw out in a questioning tone, looking at the mess before you, “What, uh, happened here?”

It’s an explosion of quintessential Valentine’s day. Pink paper hearts, strips of deep reds discarded messily. A shimmering glitter covers the table, and you can’t recall any DIY projects of Eddie’s for Hellfire that might involve that.

“What?” He’s quick to turn around at that, and you watch as all the blood drains from his face, “Oh, fuck, I-” he launches himself back around the kitchen counter frantically, grabbing at any piece of paper he can find, “Shit, I meant to clean this up earlier, I’m sorr-”

“What were you making?”

Eddie pauses all movement, glancing up at you in fear.

You’re not even sure what he’s afraid of. All you can do is furrow your brows, twist your lips, scrunch your nose.

Was it meant to be a surprise of some sort?

He swallows hard, standing up straight as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet, “I….”

When no words follow, you raise a brow, trying to silently encourage him to continue on.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And oh, he’s such a bad liar. A pretty one, but a terrible one.

There’s no sign of the stellar poker face you’ve seen him wear during Hellfire sessions, no impeccable cockiness to cover up the obvious. His wringing hands draw your attention to his knuckles, all the drying glue and glitter peeling off bit by bit.

“You sure about that?” you press, grin slow spreading as you take a step closer to him, eyeing the mess he tries to shift in front of to block from your sights.

“Positive.”

“Has anyone told you you’re an awful liar, Munson?”

“I’m not ly-”

You scooch around him effortless, dropping your bag in the process and making him yelp out as he tries to catch you. His arms are quick to wrap around your waist as you try to get a clearer view of what he had been so desperate to conceal, but even his best efforts can’t stop you.

It’s all a bit childish from the outside. Reckless giggles, flailing limbs – even Eddie is smiling in his panic.

“Let go of me!”

“Then leave it alone!”

“I wanna see what you made!”

Each screech between the two of you is overcome with laughter as he pulls you flush to his chest, caging you in and yet failing to cover your eyes.

You spot what he was trying to hide, and all attempts to escape his hold cease.

“Are those…” you start, a little breathless as you stare in awe. You swear, you could burn up from the warmth blooming in your chest. When his arms go the slightest bit limp, you have your answer before finishing the question, “Are those for me?”

A small jar, one that had once held some of Eddie’s pick collection, now holds three handmade paper roses. Mingling petals of two different shades of red, with tightly rolled pieces of green paper servings at their stems. Two even have leaves, cut jagged and true to nature.

Leaning against the small paper flower display is a card.

It’s a messier ordeal than the flowers, but you’re still prying Eddie’s forearms from your stomach in a rush to grab it.

“Hold on,” he rushes out, no longer laughing as you get a hold of the card, “Wait, listen, I can explain. I just- I spent most of my money when we went to Benny’s for shakes last week, and I forgot I wouldn’t get any more cash before today, and I just-” he’s stumbling over his words, a mess of flying hands and wide eyes as you turn to face him, “I… I’m sorry, okay? I swear, they’re just placeholders until I get you a real gift for Valentine’s Day.”

You’re hardly listening to him as you look down at the small paper, folded over fairly impressively to mimic one of the fancy cards from Melvard’s. It’s thinner, sure, but you’re mesmerized as you trace over the heart cut out of the center. It’s filled with pink glitter that clings to your fingertip as it passes, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

And then you open the card.

The outside was plain white save for the heart, but the inside is gorgeous. Hand drawn vines and flowers fill the empty space inside. Roses, mums, lillies – every flower you can think of is amongst the bunch. All etched out in ink, an ink you recognize from Eddie’s favorite pen, and every gentle line sketched out to make the larger picture sends your heart racing a few beats faster.

Underneath the glitter heart is a large bee, made with a speech bubble.

“Placeholder?” you laugh breathlessly, biting your lip to stop from smiling like a fool. “You call all this a placeholder?”

Bee mine?

It’s so cheesy, it aches.

Written in makeshift cursive, not quite as neat as it could have been, but clearly a valiant effort from the shy man standing before you. You can’t fathom how he’s embarrassed about this when you look up at him with fluttering lashes and a chest full of fizzling love.

“I thought you were going to hate them,” he hoarsely whispers as he reaches a hand to the nape of his neck.

“Hate them?” you repeat in disbelief, turning your attention back to the handmade flowers. “In what fuckin’ world would I hate these?”

You lift one of the roses from the mini jar, and sniff it on instinct. It should only smell like paper and glue, but it doesn’t – Eddie’s obviously spritzed his cologne onto the flowers.

The miniscule detail has your heart bursting.

He’s still petrified as he stares at you, shrugging hopelessly, “I just know it’s our first Valentine’s together, and people usually go all out-”

“This is going all out, Eddie.”

You can’t imagine being capable of any more love for the boy in front of you. Genuinely – you don’t believe your bones could handle the weight of it, that your heart could take it. You’re filled to the brim with it, buzzing like summertime cicadas beneath your skin from all the vibrant emotions you have for him. For every blemish across his skin and every kink in his curls, for those big brown eyes simply staring at you now. Those knuckles covered in glue and glitter. Those lips that you can’t handle another second not kissing.

And so you don’t. Not another second is wasted as you fling yourself forward, nearly dropping the paper flower in hand as you grab each side of his face, bringing him to you in a hard kiss.

You hope he feels all that love. You hope the weight of it presses down on his shoulders, even if just a little, so he gets it.

“I fucking love it, Eds,” you laugh into the kiss, pressing your forehead, “I- Honestly? I think this is the nicest Valentine I’ve ever gotten.”

“Really?” his eyes pop open, pulling back from you slightly until you simply won’t allow it. You want him close – you need him pressed against you. “Well, shit. I thought you were going to hate them and break up with me.”

“Me, breaking up with you? After this?” you parrot back in disbelief, shaking your head, tip of your nose rubbing against his through the action, “God, you’re an idiot, Eddie Munson. My idiot, but still.”

He finally cracks a smile, and you lose yourself in the dimples that appear as he asks, “Does this mean you’ll be my Valentine?”

“Absolutely.”

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vitzi9

2 years ago

batman did not take a single nap that entire film. man’s surviving off one hour of sleep (from getting knocked out by the bomb), an adrenaline shot, and a crumb he found in his pocket

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